BATTLESTAR GALACTICA/PLANET OF THE APES CROSSOVER
                        by Eric Paddon
    Based on "Battlestar Galactica" created by Glen A. Larson
               And the movie "Planet Of The Apes"
          Screenplay by Rod Serling and Michael Wilson
             Original novel written by Pierre Boulle
                       Posted May 23, 2000

                     Prelude

   "God damn you all to Hell!"
   Taylor's tormented words echoed off the cliffs as he pounded his
fist in the sand and stared at the remains of the once proud and
majestic Statue of Liberty.  Venting his anger over the shocking
discovery that his planet, and his civilization was the one that had
descended into the depths of primitive savagery.
   Colonel George Taylor had been the commander of an historic mission
into deep space called Project Magellan that had left the planet Earth
in the year 1972.  He and three other astronauts, co-pilot Major
Stephen Landon, the African-American scientist Dr. Arthur Dodge and the
beautiful Lieutenant Julia Stewart were to travel 350 light years
beyond their star system and plant a new human civilization on a
distant world.  For Taylor, a lifelong misanthrope with little regard
for his own people, it was a unique opportunity to start afresh, and
escape the problems of a time he had long ago come to loathe.  To
search for something better than man, as he had boasted to one of his
fellow astronauts.
   And then, they had awaken from hibernation in the year 3978 to
discover that they had crashed in a massive inland sea in the middle of
what appeared to be a mysterious desert planet.  And with their
awakening came the discovery that Astronaut Stewart was dead.  Killed
when a leak had developed in her hibernation chamber.
   Together, Taylor, Landon and Dodge had escaped from their sinking
spacecraft and made their way ashore.  Their initial discovery seemed
promising.  After traversing the desert region, they soon stumbled
across signs that the planet contained pockets of life that were
veritable oases.  There was plenty of food, large sections of fertile
jungle, and most importantly a large habitation of primitive, mute
humans who roamed about as if they were mere animals.  It seemed that
gaining control of the planet would be little problem at all.
   Then, the nightmare had begun with the sudden appearance of
leather-clad creatures on horseback taking part in a hunt, with the
humans as their targets.  And Taylor could still recall the feeling of
horror as he'd caught his first look at them.  Apes.  The planet was
run by a civilization of intelligent, talking apes.  A warlike, brutal
race of apes that kept humans in chains and cages.
   After being shot dead in the hunt, Dodge had been stuffed and
mounted for permanent display in an ape museum.  Landon had been
captured, and when the apes had discovered that he was an intelligent
human they had performed brain surgery on him that completely destroyed
his intelligence, forever robbing him of all his memories and his
identity.
   Taylor nearly suffered the same fate.  Only the intervention of the
compassionate ape psychologist Dr. Zira and her husband, the
archeologist Cornelius, had saved him from the corrupt Chief Scientist,
Dr. Zaius, who had seen Taylor as a threat to the established order of
Ape domination.  For Taylor's mere existence proved the falsity of the
"sacred" concept that apes had always been the supreme species, and
that man had never known the ability to think or reason.
   Together, Cornelius and Zira had helped Taylor make his escape to
the desert region beyond the Ape City, the so-called "Forbidden Zone". 
But not before he had insisted on taking the primitive female they had
provided him with during his captivity.  A beautiful woman whom Taylor
had named Nova.  If Taylor was to search for a new hope far away from
the brutality of the apes, he needed to have companionship.  Someone to
care for and to love so that he might be able to keep what was left of
his sanity.
   And now, after journeying up the coastline in search of a place of
safety to settle in, Taylor had come across the remains of a sight he
knew all too well.  And with it, the horrible realization that the
upside-down world where ape ruled over man was in fact his own.
   "You finally did it!" Taylor pounded the sand again as the ocean
rolled over his legs and hands, "All those years of killing each other
wasn't enough!  You just had to go all the way and blow everything up!" 

   He did not care how it had all happened.  A Soviet first strike? 
The Red Chinese?  Renegade elements of his own country?  None of that
mattered to him.  The only fact that stood out was that all the
negative feelings he'd felt about mankind that had compelled him to
travel 2000 years into the future had been vindicated in a hideous
fashion.  But now, there was no hope of ever finding something better
than man.  He'd been forced to see the consequences of what had
happened to his own race.   
   Finally, after several minutes on his knees, Taylor warily rose to a
standing position.  He was too drained to vent his anger any longer.
   He turned around and looked back at Nova who was still sitting on
the horse with a wide-eyed look of concern.  Slowly, practicality began
coming back to him.  His discovery, shocking as it was, didn't really
change his basic situation.  He still had to go about the task of
finding a new home for the two of them to settle in.  The important
thing for now was to move on.
   Taylor let out a sigh and mounted the horse, planting himself in
front of Nova.
   "It's all right Nova," he said quietly, "We'll be fine."
   He paused and turned around so he could look into her innocent brown
eyes. 
   "I envy you, Nova," Taylor sighed, "You're almost lucky to not
comprehend what seeing that whole thing means."
   There was still no response from her.  Small wonder.  There wasn't a
single human on this planet other than himself who could talk.  Nova,
like all the rest of them, was little more than a creature of the
jungle.  More docile than others of her kind perhaps, but still with
more of the instincts of an animal than a rational being.  From a
mental standpoint, Nova and her kind represented total regression on
the evolutionary scale.
   But as Taylor prepared to take hold of the reins and move on, he
suddenly felt Nova's arms go tightly around his waist.  And then, he
felt the gentle tousle of her dark brown hair as she buried her head on
his shoulder.
   Slowly, a glimmer of hope came back to him.  He could sense feeling
and emotion inside Nova.  Was it possible that there was more he could
do for her?  Educate her.  Teach her to talk.  And from there...
   He tried not to let his mind race too far.  Already, he was fast
trying to cope with the realization that this was his planet he now
found himself on.  And that whatever happened to him and Nova carried
ramifications far greater than he could ever have imagined.
   He slowly turned the horse around so he could look back at the
Statue of Liberty one last time.
   There lay the remains of what mankind had once been.  Noble and
proud enough to build a statue symbolizing a commitment to liberty and
freedom.  And foolish enough to forget those values and destroy the
statue and themselves.
   Further back, he knew that Cornelius and Zira had returned with Dr.
Zaius to Ape City.  The symbol of what mankind had degenerated into.
   Ahead of him lay an unknown path.  A path that was sure to be
fraught with all kinds of perils and dangers if he was to survive.  And
yet, he couldn't help but sense that somewhere along that path lay an
ultimate answer to why he, a lonely misanthrope from the 20th Century
had been thrust into this incredible position he found himself in.
   Taylor finally turned away from the statue and pulled the reins. 
With that, the horse resumed its lonely journey up the coastline.

                   Chapter One

   The scene was an awesome display of brilliant white light, just as
Apollo had remembered it.  Twice before, he knew he had visited this
place, though his memory still held gaps on some of the details
surrounding those visits.  But he did know that aboard this wondrous
vessel of light were the most remarkable beings known to exist in the
universe apart from the Almighty Himself.
   "Step forward, Commander Apollo," the rich, luminous voice that
Apollo remembered from that first visit filled the cavernous chamber. 
"There is much to explain in so little time."
   Apollo's mind was totally oblivious as to how and why he had come to
be here, aboard the Ship of Lights once again.  The only thing he felt
at that instant was a feeling of total serenity.  The faith that his
father had passed down to him had grown stronger with each passing
yahren, and that faith alone was enough to tell him why he was now
here.
   He stepped forward towards the other side of the chamber and then
saw a human-looking form emerge.  Apollo already knew from past
experience that it wasn't a real image.  It was but a projection made
by one of the Guardians so they might be able to communicate more
easily with him.  The Guardians themselves were totally luminous.  Far
beyond the need of normal human appearance.  Apollo still didn't know
if that was because they represented the next advanced stage of human
evolution, or if it was merely the form bestowed on those chosen by the
Almighty after death.  When he had asked them about their nature once,
their answers had been suitably ambiguous so that either conclusion
could be reasonably inferred.
   Instantly, he recognized the form as John, the Guardian who had
recruited Apollo so many yahrens ago to stop the fighting on the planet
Terra.
   "Hello Apollo," John smiled brightly as he came up to greet him, "It
is good to see you again."
   "I am ready to listen to what you have to say, John," Apollo said
with total deference and respect.  Now that he was a much older and
wiser man, he had reached enough conclusions about the Guardians that
he didn't need to get upset over their tendency towards reticence and
ambiguity in how they explained things.
   "Good," the Guardian nodded, "Because what I have to say is
uncharacteristically blunt of me.  On this very day, the quest that
began for your people twenty-five yahrens ago will come to an end.  You
will find the planet Earth at long last."
   Apollo's mouth fell open in amazement, "You mean---"
   "I mean exactly what I say, Apollo," John said firmly, "Your quest
is over.  When you send a patrol out to investigate the next solar
system ahead of you, they will find a system of nine planets orbiting a
class G-2 sun.  Only one of the planets is capable of sustaining human
life and contains lifeforms.  That planet is Earth."
   Apollo felt numb with exhilaration, "John, what can I say except---"
   "Say nothing," the Guardian abruptly cut him off and held up a hand
of warning, "There is nothing more I can say to you at this point.  I
offer you no information as to what kind of planet Earth is.  Only the
assurance that what you will find is the planet you have sought.  And
it will be incumbent upon you and your people to make use of what is
there to insure the survival of your civilization."
   Apollo opened his mouth to try and say something, but he hadn't
begun to form the first syllable of his words when John lowered his
hand and suddenly everything went totally black.....


   He came to and found himself lying in the bed of his spacious
quarters aboard the Galactica.  Sheba lay curled up next to him,
sleeping blissfully.
   Apollo rubbed his temples as he quickly relived every detail of what
he had just experienced.
   A dream, he thought.  They appeared to me in a dream, because they
know I don't fly vipers anymore and they can't abduct me to make
contact.
   Without giving it any thought, he quickly nudged his sleeping wife
so he could tell her what had happened.  Once she was awake and had
given him only a gentle rebuke for rousing her, Sheba believed him the
instant he told her what he had experienced.  It was the kind of story
that one might not believe at first hearing, but Sheba had no reason to
doubt what her husband had said.  For she too, had known the experience
of seeing the Guardians firsthand, and understanding the power they
held.
   When it officially became morning by the Fleet Chronometer, which
had run according to Caprica Standard Time ever since the beginning of
the Exodus twenty-five yahrens ago, Apollo wasted little time in
summoning his best friend, and both of his children to his quarters.
   It was not for the idle reason of sharing good news with the people
who meant so much to him.  The meeting would be in the context of
Apollo's official capacity as commander of the Galactica.  A position
he had held since the death of his father, Commander Adama five yahrens
earlier.  Amazingly enough, Apollo had been able to step into the role
of commander with virtually no charges of nepotism from the Council of
Twelve or any of the dissident factions known to exist within the
Fleet.  Apollo's stature as a warrior had passed into the realm of
Legend by this point.  A stature not known to have existed with any
warrior since the days of Commander Cain.
   It was not a stature that the ordinarily introspective Apollo had
wanted or desired.  But both Adama and Sheba (whom Apollo had married
not long after that mission when he and Starbuck had infiltrated the
lone Cylon baseship) had urged him not to resist it.
   "People need heroes," his father had said, "You'll find in later
yahrens that the stature of a Legend will serve you well."
   That had turned out to be all too true when Adama spoke to him for
the last time, a mere sectan before his death, and revealed that he had
chosen his son to be his successor.
   "More than anyone else, Apollo, you understand the real purpose of
what lies behind this quest we have followed all these yahrens for
Earth," Adama's voice was showing signs that the end was not far off
for him, "That is why it is imperative for you to lead us the rest of
the way."
   He had protested, saying that to take command would be perceived as
a slight to Adama's long-time executive officer Colonel Tigh.  He had
also been concerned over the specter of his father showing overt
favoritism toward one of his two remaining children.  But Adama had
allayed those fears right away by having Athena and Tigh come visit so
they could assure Apollo that they agreed with the Commander's
decision.
   And as Adama had predicted, Apollo's stature as a Legend among
warriors had made the people conditioned in advance to accept the idea
of him as the new leader.  Even though there were still times when
Apollo wasn't sure he could believe it himself.
   On this day though, he knew that total inner confidence was needed,
as he sat back in his chair behind his father's desk and saw Starbuck,
Boxey and Hera enter.
   Starbuck was well into middle age now and had not bothered
concealing some of the signs of that process.  His blonde hair was
still full but had turned steel-gray in color.  That, and a perpetual
two-week stubble of beard lent Starbuck the grizzled, weather-beaten
air of a veteran pilot who had seen everything, and now that
twenty-five yahrens had passed, was regarded as one of the best there'd
ever been.
   His two children were total opposites in appearance.  Boxey, despite
not being his biological son had somehow managed to turn into a young
version of himself anyway.  He had his father's black hair and the same
bearing and temperament.  And he had also idolized Apollo to the point
where his career choice of viper pilot was all but preordained.  Now,
he was a five yahren veteran of Blue Squadron and had already made
Lieutenant.  His career had not been filled with any of the spectacular
feats that had made both Apollo and Starbuck famous, but it had been an
exemplary career up to this point that had done his father proud.
   Hera, his daughter born two yahrens after he and Sheba had married,
was the total image of what her mother and her maternal grandmother
Bethany had looked like at the same age, except for her hair being
lighter and more blonde than brown in color.   She also had the trace
of her maternal grandfather Commander Cain in her as well, with a
quick-edged, decisive temperament that had earned her the highest marks
of all the cadets in her graduating class from the Warrior Training
School.  After only four sectars on active duty as an Ensign, she
already had shown signs of  determination to become the best warrior of
her generation.
   As he had with Sheba, Apollo explained the details of what he had
experienced in his dream. 
   "I think this is the confirmation we've been looking for," Apollo
said, "For the last five sectars we've been getting one gamma signal
after another that's clearly of Earth origin.  I think what they were
trying to tell me is that the next planet we find that has any
lifeforms is Earth, and that we don't have to go through any of that
anxiety wringing our hands over whether this is or isn't the planet
we're supposed to settle on."
   "Apollo," Starbuck said as he chewed on an unlit fumarello, "You
don't need to do any convincing of me, but what do you say to the rest
of the people when you tell them that we're going to find Earth today?"
   "I rest on my laurels and the fact that they trust me implicitly on
all things related to Earth," the commander smiled wryly, "I think all
those gamma signals ahead of time have already prepared public opinion
to accept the fact that Earth is near, and it's not impossible to
accept the idea that we find it today."
   "Too bad we can't understand a word of them," Boxey spoke for the
first time, "Just a few blurry images of a human making a journal
entry, saying garbled things I couldn't even begin to figure out."
   "And yet in at least two of those transmissions, we heard that human
say the word 'Earth.'" Apollo said, "Which was all the proof we
needed."
   "Not that it's stopping Boomer from spending eighteen centars a day
trying to clean up the audio on them," Starbuck smirked, "Good thing he
loves his new line of work."
   "And one thing I know about you, Starbuck, is that you'll never find
a new line of work to love," the commander returned it.  Because of all
the experiences they'd shared down through the yahrens, he allowed
Starbuck considerably more leeway in addressing him than others would
for the Commander, "Starbuck, get your viper ready and prepare to take
Hera and Boxey out on patrol.  If you keep following the track ahead of
us, you should run right smack into the solar system containing Earth. 
When you find her, take a quick scan for general readings and bring
them back here.  We'll go over the data and then be able to make a
decision on which contingency plan to put into effect."
   "Okay," Starbuck rose, "I guess we get started then, right pilots?"
he flashed a smile at the two warriors who had looked up to him as a
favorite uncle as they'd grown up.
   "Not yet, Starbuck," Apollo held up a hand, "I want Boxey and Hera
to stay a few centons.  You get down to the launch bay and make the
final preparations."
   The grizzled captain nodded in understanding and left the room,
leaving Apollo alone with his children.
   Apollo took a breath before he began.  Already, the young warriors
sensed that he was going to be speaking to them as their father, and
not as their commander.
   "If someone were to accuse me of resorting to nepotism in having the
two of you accompany Starbuck on this patrol, they'd be correct," he
said.  "It means a lot to me that the both of you, be the first of our
people to actually see Earth."
   Their father sighed and began to pace about behind his desk, "The
only reason why we've made it this far is because your grandfather, at
the blackest centon in human history, received the wisdom and strength
to conceive this idea and put it into effect on such incredibly short
notice."
   "And he had to do it when he'd suffered a lot himself," Hera spoke
up.  She had long been familiar with how the night of the Holocaust had
killed two relatives of hers that she had never known.  Her grandmother
Ila, and her uncle Zac.
   Apollo nodded, "I've never told this to anyone before except your
Aunt Athena.  I was with your grandfather that terrible night, and he
and I both went down to the surface of Caprica to see what had happened
to our house, and to see if your grandmother was still alive.  We found
only a burning, smoldering wreck.  And it was the only time in my life
that I ever saw your grandfather seem lost and helpless.  In fact, it
was the only time I ever saw him break down and cry."
   This information amazed both Boxey and Hera.  Both of them had
vivid, unchanging memories of Adama as totally strong and unflinching
in the face of any potential danger.
   "And yet only a few centons after he'd gone through this terrible
experience of seeing everything that he'd spent a lifetime building up
destroyed, he had already conceived of the idea that we needed to band
together and seek out Earth.  Overcoming that kind of personal
adversity that would have destroyed a lesser man, to provide the answer
that saved human civilization tells you a lot about how great a man he
was."
   "It's too bad he couldn't be alive for this," Boxey said with a tiny
air of sadness.
   "I know," Apollo nodded, "But I can think of no better way to honor
his memory, and acknowledge his part in carrying us this far in having
both of his grandchildren go on this patrol."
   Boxey and Hera both seemed too touched to say anything.
   Apollo pulled out two objects from his desk.  One of them was a gold
medallion on a chain with a pyramid shaped design at the center.  The
other was a gold ring with several ornamental jewels affixed.
   He handed the medallion to his son, "Your grandfather wore this Seal
of the Lords to denote his power as a member of the Council of Twelve,"
he said, "He also used this medallion to officiate the sealing
ceremonies when I married your mother and your stepmother."  he paused,
"I'd like for you to be wearing it while you fly the patrol."
   Boxey was still at a loss for words as he took the medallion and
with some hesitation, put it around his neck.
   Apollo then turned his attention to Hera and handed her the ring,
"This was a gift to your grandmother Ila when she retired from her work
at the Caprica Fine Arts Institute," he said, "It was one of the few
things of hers that your grandfather saved from the wreckage of our
house.  He always cherished it as a reminder that though she was gone,
her spirit was making the journey to Earth with him."
   With the same hesitation her brother had shown with the medallion,
Hera slipped it on her finger.
   "This way, I can feel secure that though neither of them are here, a
part of them did finish the journey," Apollo said, "And I know that
both of them are glad that they've left a precious legacy in the both
of you to help lead us in this next important phase of human history."
   He could see the tears glistening in his daughter's eyes as Hera put
her arms around him.  A few microns later, Boxey had joined them to
share in the collective embrace.
   Finally, Apollo released them both, "I'm proud of you both," he said
with all the tenderness he summoned, "I may not get a chance to say
that as often as I probably should, but I want you to always know
that."
   Hera wiped her eyes and slowly regained her usual bearing of
military decisiveness, "You and Mom have never had to say it all the
time, Dad," she said, "We know."
   Boxey still felt too moved to say anything himself.  Again, that was
part of his more introspective nature.  His sister was always the one
who felt more comfortable finding the right words for the occasion.
   "Okay," Apollo smiled, "Now get down to that launch bay and make
this a day they'll be reading about thousands of yahrens from now."
   
   
   One centar later, the three vipers had launched and were well into
their patrol. 
   "This is Blue Squadron patrol, reporting to Galactica," Starbuck's
tone was uncharacteristically one of dead seriousness,  "We have
reached the outermost periphery of what appears to be a solar system
that matches the correct description.  Nine planets.  One sun, class
level G-2."
   "Good," Apollo's voice came through his helmet, "Scan each planet
for lifeforms and atmosphere readings."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded and then switched frequencies so he could
talk to the rest of his group of three vipers, "All right Blue Group. 
Peel off and start checking out those planets and transmit all
telemetry data back to the Galactica."
   "Mind if I take that big one with the rings, Starbuck?" Boxey's
voice came through, "It sure looks funny."
   "Be my guest Boxey," Starbuck grinned.
   "You've got no imagination, Brother," Hera chimed in.  "The bigger
one with the red spot looks far more interesting."
   "That's because you always had a thing for boys with large red
freckles, right?" he retorted good-naturedly to his step-sister.
   "Maybe," her tone matched his, "So long as none of them reminded me
of you."
   "Okay kids, Uncle Starbuck has to step in and restore order,"
Starbuck cut in, trying to suppress a chuckle.  He knew that the
put-downs between Boxey and Hera only masked the deep bonds of
closeness they felt to each other.  "We need to summon total dignity if
this turns out to be the day we find Earth."
   "Aye aye sir!" Boxey said with an edge of mock seriousness, since
they already knew the answer to that question was not if but when.


   Aboard the Galactica, Apollo sat in the command chair on the upper
level of the bridge with his fingertips together in contemplation. 
Although he had been commander of the great battlestar for more than
five yahrens, it had only been in the last few sectars that he had
finally felt comfortable enough to sit down in the chair that had been
his father's for so long without any ill-at-ease feelings or
discomfort.  Events had taken on such a dramatic turn-of-events in that
time, that he knew that his inner inferiority complex had to be swept
aside for good.  He needed to act with more confidence in his own
abilities or else he knew that he risked the lives of all the people in
the Fleet.  And one way to do that, was to start thinking of the
Galactica as something that was now his, and not some perpetual
extension of his father.
   "Feel nervous?" the executive officer spoke up from beside his
chair.
   Apollo looked up at Sheba and smiled, "Like a cadet on his first
solo flight."
   "I know what you mean," his wife looked out the main viewing screen,
"I'd give my right arm to be out there and be the first to see Earth."
   "That'd be a tragic waste of a very pretty right arm," Apollo got to
his feet.  Very seldom did he allow any intimate words to pass between
them when they were both on duty, but this day seemed different from
others.  On this day, they would finally reach the end of a journey
that had began twenty-five yahrens ago when Commander Adama had
gathered 70,000 survivors of human civilization in search of the
legendary thirteenth colony, the planet Earth.
   "Anyway," the commander went on, "If we couldn't be flying our
vipers, it's only fitting our children performed the honors."
   Sheba smiled back and brushed away a lock of her shoulder-length
brown hair.  There was so much she wished she could say at that moment
how it was often hard for her to think of Boxey and Hera as
full-fledged warriors.  Boxey, whom she had raised and loved as though
he were her own, had become a young version of his adoptive father. 
What he had not been able to inherit from Apollo by genetic instinct,
he had inherited instead as the result of studying his father's
techniques and following all the advice Apollo had given him down
through the yahrens.  Even though Hera was the total opposite and had
truly inherited all of her mother's characteristics in appearance and
temperament, there had never been any clashes or conflicts between the
siblings.  Strangely enough, the fact that they were both so different
in their approaches to being warriors had only served to make them feel
closer to each other as brother and sister.
   Then again, she mused, that had also been why Apollo and Starbuck
had been so inseparable down through the yahrens when they had flown
together.
   "First telemetry reports coming in, Commander," Major Omega looked
up from his console, where he had been a steady rock of stability from
the very beginning of the Galactica's journey, "The outer planets, save
one, are all gaseous giants filled with atmospheres totally unsuitable
for any life as we know it.  Patrol is now proceeding toward the inner
planets but they have to navigate through a large asteroid belt first. 
It'll be ten centons before they can start taking readings."
   "Thank you Omega," Apollo said, "Keep their channel opened direct to
me."
   "Well, we should find out soon if the Ship of Lights is still
reliable like they always have been," Sheba sighed, "If Earth really
isn't there, then a lot of people are going to lose their religion very
fast."
   "It's there," Apollo's tone was firm and resolute.  "There's no
question that Earth is there in this system.  It's only a matter of
what kind of Earth we find."
   Sheba looked down at her husband, "What kind of Earth are you hoping
for?"
   "I've never let myself think about that for one micron," he said
flatly, "Something my father told me a long time ago.  Don't fill your
mind with any expectations about what we might find on Earth.  Accept
the will of the Lord and work with what you're given.  That's why he
had us draw up action plans all those yahrens ago for dealing with a
society ahead of us, equal to us or far behind us."
   Sheba decided not to press the point.  Inside, for twenty five
yahrens she had harbored a dream inside of her that Earth would be a
technological miracle.  A colony that had flourished on the same order
that the Twelve Colonies had.  And strong enough to help their brothers
turn the tide at long last in the fight against the Cylon Empire.
   She had never liked to think of the prospect that Earth was nothing
like that at all, even though as executive officer she was privy to the
details of the action plan for dealing with a primitive Earth.  She had
no doubt that as a professional warrior who needed to do her job, she
could rise to the occasion and help put such a plan into effect.  What
she doubted was her ability to handle the prospect from a purely
emotional standpoint.  For if Earth was totally incapable of helping
the survivors of the Colonies fight back against their sworn enemy,
then what hope was there left?  The whole journey across the stars that
had taken so much sacrifice, and had seen so many brave souls like
Giles, Greenbean, Bojay and Commander Adama lose their lives, would
seemingly have been all for nothing.
   As she stood next to her husband and saw the medium-sized star that
contained the planets her children were now investigating, Sheba felt
herself praying with all her strength that the solution to turning the
tide would be found somehow.


   "That asteroid field was tougher than I figured," Starbuck's voice
was slightly subdued as the three vipers left the large quadrant of
rocks and meteors behind them and streaked toward the inner planets.
   "I had no trouble with it," Hera said.  "I've seen obstacles in a
simulator that were tougher than that."
   Either Hera is being naturally boastful, or I'm starting to get too
old for this, Starbuck said to himself.  But as far as he was
concerned, he intended to keep flying his viper until he was a
doddering old man of a hundred yahrens, and even then they'd have to
force him to give it up.  He'd long ago vowed that moving to bridge
duty as Apollo and Sheba had done was something he'd never let himself
get pushed into.  Unless he had an accident like the kind Boomer had
which had forced him out of the Service and into a new job as Dr.
Wilker's successor
   "First inner planet coming into range," Hera checked her scanner,
"Thin atmosphere.  Not capable of sustaining human life without normal
pressure suits.  No lifeforms."
   "Okay Boxey, you've got the third one coming up."
   "Affirmative Blue Leader," Boxey moved his viper into a slow bank
toward the next planet in the system.  "She has one moon.  My scanner
shows signs of some non-natural objects dotting the surface. 
Preliminary indications are that they're the remains of some crafts
that have landed there.  There's a lot of them all over the place."
   "That's a good sign," Starbuck said, "That indicates penetration of
the satellite by lifeforms.  Keep pouring it on."
   "I'm headed for the third planet," Boxey moved past the
crater-strewn landscape of the moon.  "Preliminary scan looks good. 
Definitely an atmosphere sustainable to life.  And....jackpot!" his
voice rose to an excited crescendo, "Lifeforms clearly indicated!"
   "That's it then," Starbuck grinned as he adjusted the communicator,
"Blue Leader to Galactica.  We have found Earth.  It's the third planet
in the system."
   "Terrific!" Apollo's excited voice came back, and Starbuck could
hear the sounds of cheering erupting on the battlestar's bridge from
all of the crewmembers on duty.  "Keep a low profile and take only a
cursory scan.  As soon as you have it, return to the Galactica
immediately."
   "Will do," Starbuck nodded, "You hear that, Boxey?  Take enough of a
reading to give us something we can work with, but don't attract the
attention of anyone down there who's watching."
   "Just need a few more microns," the brown haired lieutenant said,
"I'm starting the.....wait a micron."
   "What's up?"
   "Starbuck, Hera, I've got a contact registering in delta one-two
quadrant.  It seems to be on a trajectory headed right for Earth. 
She's moving very slow.  Barely moving at normal sub-light speed."
   Starbuck activated his scan beam toward the heading Boxey had
mentioned.  He could see the tiny blip registering on his grid.
   "I've got it," the grizzled captain said, "Hera, you picking this up
too?"
   "Sure am," the young ensign said. "Boxey, can you get a visual
contact scan of her?"
   "I'll need to move in a little closer," her brother said as he hit
his turbo and assumed a new heading.  "Should have it any micron now."
he flicked several switches on his console and then looked ahead
through his canopy.
   At first it was only a dim speck, totally indistinguishable from all
of the other stars in the background.  But as Boxey's viper drew closer
it began to grow larger and take shape.  Within microns, the dim speck
had become the shape of a spacecraft.
   The craft was long and sleek, silver-white in color and narrowed at
the front into a triangular point where the windows indicated a cockpit
region.  Markings covered the ship at various points from bow to stern,
but they spelled out words that meant absolutely nothing to Boxey, Hera
or Starbuck.  Above some of the words were colorful looking emblems of
red and blue that suggested some type of symbol indicating the craft's
origin.  Again, it was not of any design that struck a chord with the
three warriors.
   "Blue Leader to Galactica," Starbuck radioed with a cautious tone of
voice, "We have made visual contact with what appears to be an Earth
spacecraft.  Are you getting our telemetry?"
   "Affirmative, Starbuck," Apollo said.  There seemed to be an edge of
spellbound fascination in the commander's voice.  "Getting any life
readings?"
   "Just one micron.  Boxey?" he called over to the viper that was
closest.
   "I've got it," the young lieutenant nodded, "Scanner shows there are
three lifeforms aboard the craft.  98 percent probability that they're
human," he paused, "Scanner also shows that the occupants are in some
kind of state of suspended animation or sleep mode."
   Starbuck let his words sink in and suddenly started to laugh.
   "Oh boy," he chuckled, "Apollo, did you get that?"
   "I did," Starbuck could almost hear his friend's wry smile through
his helmet, "Haven't we been through something just like this once
before?"
   "I think we have," Starbuck said as the memories of a ship from the
planet Terra and her four passengers in hibernation that had caused so
many difficulties when they'd been taken aboard the Galactica for
observation briefly came back to him.  "And I don't think I need three
guesses to know that your order is to leave her alone and do nothing
that will disturb her mission."
   "Starbuck, you just went to the head of the class.  Don't even lay a
finger on that ship.  It's probably some deep-space expedition that's
finally coming home."
   "Got it.  Okay Boxey, resume trajectory for Earth and get back to
that planetary scan."
   "Just starting it up," Boxey said with crisp professionalism as he
felt the tingling exhilaration from seeing an Earth spacecraft wear
off, "Okay, atmosphere check.  Perfect.  Clear indications of human
life presence.  And....." he trailed off and then frowned, "Well now
that's funny."
   "What do you see?" Hera chimed in as she drew closer to her
brother's position.
   "I'm getting.....oh come on, this doesn't make any sense," a feeling
of disbelief started to come over Boxey.
   "What is it?" Starbuck noticed it.
   "Starbuck, I'm getting no signs of technology or major industrial
centers at all.  It's as if nothing on that planet's been developed."
   "You've got to be kidding," the grizzled captain said, "How can you
pick up an Earth spacecraft one micron, and then a planet with no
technology the next?"
   "I don't know but that's what I'm getting.  There's nothing down
there but lifeform readings."
   "Starbuck, he's right," Hera jumped in as her viper pulled up
alongside her brother's, "My scanner shows the same thing.  Lifeforms,
yes.  Technology, no."
   For one of the few times in his life, Starbuck was at a loss for
words.
   "Galactica, are you reading all this?" he finally decided he had to
turn for some advice.
   "We do Starbuck," the same edge of disbelief had entered Apollo's
voice, "And that's a combination of factors that doesn't add up.  If
we're looking at a primitive Earth, there's no way they could have the
kind of spacecraft we're seeing on the telemetry."
   "Unless that ship didn't come from Earth?" Boxey ventured as he
tapped into the frequency.
   "That wouldn't explain the presence of humans on that ship, Boxey,"
his father said.  "There are no other human settlements from here all
the way back to the planet Terra.  That's not a Terran ship, and it
certainly didn't come from the Colonies."
   Starbuck pulled up alongside the vipers of Hera and Boxey.  Ahead of
them, the shining blue planet was growing more and more visible,
showing off its continents and oceans like a beckoning signal to them.
   It was too tempting for Starbuck to pass up, "Commander, request
permission to have us proceed to Earth and investigate things on the
ground.  At this point, a simple telemetry scan isn't going to answer
any of the questions.  We need to check this out from ground level."
   There was a brief silence as the three vipers awaited a response
from the battlestar.
   "I don't like the idea, Starbuck," the commander said, "The risk of
something going wrong in a premature contact is high."
   "Commander, I promise you we'll keep a very low profile and just
look.  We won't do any mixing with the natives."
   He could hear Apollo slowly exhale in resignation, "All right
Starbuck.  Use your best judgment, and be on your guard."
   "We only need a few centars at best and we should have all the
information we need," Starbuck said, "We'll be back in no time."
   The three vipers started to ease back on their turbos as the blue
planet drew closer and closer.  The preparations for landing had begun.


   On the bridge, the early euphoria that had erupted was gone
completely.  Replaced by an air of somewhat pessimistic caution and
uncertainty.
   "No technology," Sheba felt stung by the words she'd heard, "That
doesn't bode well at all for us."
   Her husband tried to remain philosophical, "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Once
they're on the ground and do some investigating we should have a better
inkling of what we're up against."
   She looked at him with amazement, "Can you really be so calm?  If
those reports are correct, then Earth doesn't have anything that can
help us."
   "Those readings don't explain that spacecraft," Apollo cautioned,
"That's the one thing that's keeping me from implementing our action
plan for dealing with a primitive Earth. There's something down there
that knows how to build a spacecraft that's capable of making
deep-space travel.  Until I know just what that is, I'm not about to
concede that we're up against our worst case scenario."
   "You might as well break out the manual for it though."
   "Not until we have more information," he rose from his chair and
then went over to the railing where he looked down at Omega, "Omega,
send the telemetry tapes of that spacecraft to my station.  And notify
the Electronics Ship to have Boomer get over here immediately."
   "Yes Commander," Omega nodded and went to work on carrying out the
order.
   "You think Boomer can figure out something from that data?" Sheba
asked.
   Apollo half-smiled, "Well, he's been studying all those gamma
signals that led us to Earth.  I want to see if this spacecraft
remotely matches anything he picked up in those transmissions."
   He noticed the concerned look on her face, and quietly reached over
to squeeze her hand.
   "Hang tight, Sheba," he kept his tone low and gentle, "The Lord
hasn't led us this far across the galaxy just to come to a dead end."
   Sheba looked her husband in the eye and for the first time managed
to smile.  But inside, her uneasy apprehension was only increasing.


   For many months, there had been only stark, empty quiet aboard the
silvery-gray spacecraft that continued on its slow trajectory toward
the Earth.  The three men who ordinarily would have been at their
consoles to operate and guide the spacecraft had spent the last nine
months in a state of hibernation to conserve their resources and
prepare them for arrival at a destination that was totally unknown to
them.
   The computers guiding the spacecraft were programmed to keep the
three crewmen in their sleeping state until final landing took place. 
The only exception to that, was in case of a potential danger from
collision emerging.  If that contingency ever happened, the automatic
override to the commander's hibernation chamber would kick in, and the
crew would be awaken in time to take quick action.
   When the viper craft of Boxey passed within a mere five miles of the
spacecraft, a yellow alert siren shattered the nine-month silence and
numerous computer programs sprung to life with rapid action.  Within
thirty seconds, red flashing lights were blinking brightly above the
commander's chamber as the wake program was initiated.
   Ten seconds later, the commander's eyes started to flutter open.  It
took two blinks before he had all of his faculties back.  He put a hand
to his cheek and felt the scraggly growth of a nine month old beard
that had grown during his hibernation.  With the other hand, he pressed
several buttons above him, which quickly went red and activated the
glass case that had kept him protected all this time.
   The case slid open and the commander got to his feet.  Immediately
he directed his attention to the cockpit windows, expecting to see the
sight of a strange new planet.  Instead, he frowned when he saw that
the spacecraft was still flying in space.
   Even stranger still, were the sights that took up the view in both
windows.  He could see three objects that clearly had the contours of
being fast-moving space vehicles moving rapidly toward a blue planet in
the foreground.
   That explains the alert siren and why I'm awake, the commander said
to himself.  Those things got close to us.
   He rubbed his eyes and strained for another look.  Those unknown
craft were rapidly dwindling to tiny points of light as they drew
closer and closer to the planet.  They were evidently headed for a
landing.
   That really opens up a lot of strange possibilities, he thought as
he sat down in the command chair and activated some of the switches on
the console in front of him.  After silencing the alert siren, he
turned his attention to the most critical thing he needed to know.  He
needed a readout on the trajectory they'd been following for the last
year and a half since they'd launched.  If the trail was still hot,
then the first phase of the mission was about to come to an end, with
total success.
   The computer monitor printed out its information and the commander
grinned.  Everything was in order.  The trail they'd been following led
straight to the nearby planet.
   He rose from his chair and went back to the hibernation chambers
where his second-in-command and navigator remained oblivious to
everything in their state of sleep.  Like him, their beards had fully
grown in over the last nine months, making them both look
uncharacteristically different from their standard, clean-cut military
images.  Allowing himself a slight chuckle over their appearance, he
activated the switches that would bring them awake.
   Once again, the noise of computer systems kicking in filled the
interior as the commander went back to his seat at the forward end of
the spacecraft.
   "Ohhh...." the second-in-command was the first of the two to come
round as he absently put his hand to his cheek.
   "Okay gentlemen," Colonel Philip Rollins, ten year veteran of the
United States Astronaut Corps and commander of the American spaceship
Magellan II grinned wryly, "Rise and shine."
   Major John Brent, the expedition's second-in-command got to his feet
and stumbled forward slightly toward the cockpit area, "Have we
landed?" he rubbed his temples which were throbbing slightly.
   "Not yet," Rollins said as Brent settled into his chair on the left
side of the ship.  "Fowler, you awake?" he craned his head back.
   "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," Captain Donald Fowler, the navigator who
had done most of the pre-hibernation flying mumbled as he got to his
feet and also made his way toward the forward part of the spacecraft,
"Christ, they didn't tell me that hibernation would feel that bad."
   "Simulators never have anything on the real thing," Rollins said as
he turned his attention to another console.
   "So how do we stand?" Brent asked with equal parts concern and
anticipation, "Are we still locked on Taylor's ion trail trajectory?"
   The commander nodded, "Still locked on to it.  There's no question
he ended up on that planet right in front of us."
   "Where exactly are we?" Fowler sat down in the chair behind the
other two, "And what time is it now?"
   "I don't know yet about the former," Rollins punched up some more
information, "As to the latter, you'll have the answer in a few
seconds."
   The three American astronauts shifted their attention over to the
ship's chronometer.  On the left side, the monitor for SHIP'S TIME
denoted the amount of time that had elapsed for them since they'd
lifted off from Cape Canaveral.  It read June 18, 1977.  For Rollins,
Brent and Fowler, only eighteen months had elapsed.
   On the right side, the monitor for EARTH TIME was recalibrating
itself.  And when the numbers came up, all three of the astronauts
stared in wide-eyed amazement.
   "Congratulations gentlemen," Rollins grinned, "You are now among
that select few who can say they have lived to be 2000 years old."
   Fowler shook his head in incredulous disbelief, "June 12, 3979."
   "Welcome to the 40th Century," Rollins shifted his attention back to
his console, "Hopefully, we won't have to spend much time dwelling on
that.  If all goes well, we lock on to where Taylor landed.  Pick him
and the others up and bid a quick retreat back the way we came to Earth
and the 20th Century."
   "Assuming we can make it back," Brent couldn't take his eyes off the
chronometer.
   "We can make it," Rollins ignored the edge of concern in his voice,
"We've just proved the first half of Dr. Hasslein's theories about
traveling through time.  That means his chances of being right about
performing the reverse are more than good for my purposes."
   "I hope," Fowler sighed, "But you'd think that if the Magellan made
it this way with no trouble, they'd have figured out how to get back
themselves."
   "Our comrades had no reason to think they could try to get back,
Fowler," Rollins took out a paper cup and helped himself to some water
from the dispenser next to his main console, "That's why we've come
after them on this rescue mission."
   The sandy-haired Brent had finally taken his eyes off the
chronometer.  He was trying not to let the reality sink in that he now
occupied a place in time and space where everything that he'd known and
loved no longer existed.  His fifteen year old daughter, whom he'd
shared an emotional last night with just before he'd left for Florida
and the mission.  His ex-wife.  His parents.  His friends.  They were
all dead and forgotten in this time and place.  It made him shudder
inwardly and only reinforced his desire that the sooner they found
Taylor and the rest of the Magellan crew, and got themselves back home,
the better he'd feel.
   "I thought we were programmed to wake up only after we landed,"
Fowler was still trying to readjust himself to his surroundings.
   "We got buzzed by some UFO's," Rollins sipped his water very slowly,
"That caused a yellow-alert situation and woke me up."
   "UFO's?" Brent looked at him, "You mean some kind of meteor
activity?"
   Rollins turned and flashed another wry grin, "No Brent.  I mean
UFO's.  Flying craft of some kind that evidently came from that planet. 
I got a clear look at them, and they were headed for a landing.  That
means in addition to Taylor, Landon, Dodge and Stewart, there's also
some additional company down there."
   "Alien life," Brent shook his head in amazement, "Somebody tell me
I'm dreaming."
   "You sure weren't for the last nine months," Rollins quipped as he
finished his water and crushed the cup with his bare hand, "Anyway,
from the looks of things we're only a day short of landing.  We might
as well stay awake for the rest of the journey and get ourselves
organized."
   Brent tilted his head back to loosen the stiffness he felt in his
neck and unzipped the top of his white NASA jumpsuit by an inch.  As
Rollins went back to his computer readings and Fowler helped himself to
an aspirin and water, the second-in-command returned his attention to
the blue planet that loomed in the distance.  There was a heavy amount
of cloud cover that obscured more than half of the surface from view. 
Only small patches of brown continents occasionally poked their way out
from under the heavy white streaks.
   Brent leaned forward in his chair and stared intently at the planet
for several minutes.  If he didn't know better, he could have sworn
he'd seen something familiar.
   "Skipper!" he raised his voice.
   Rollins looked up from his instruments and frowned at him, "Yeah?"
   "Is it my imagination, or does that planet look a lot like the
Earth?"
   Rollins gave the planet a cursory glance and shrugged.  "It
resembles it a bit."  
   "Skipper, I think that is the Earth!"
   "That's crazy, we've been going at light speed for almost eighteen
months away from Earth and----"
   Abruptly, Rollins broke off and his jaw fell open when he saw some
of the cloud cover lift, exposing the unmistakable shape of the North
American continent.
   Fowler had leaned forward to get a better look, and he too could see
it.
   "Holy shit," the red-haired navigator said under his breath.
   "We've come home, Skipper," Brent said, "Somehow, Taylor's
trajectory took him all the way back home."
   "How could that be?" Fowler couldn't believe it.  "It doesn't make
any sense."
   "You're right," for the first time since he'd awaken, the wry grin
had been wiped off the commander's face, "It doesn't seem possible,
unless...." he trailed off.
   "Unless what?" Fowler prodded.
   "Unless somehow, the computer failure knocked the Magellan  into an
elliptical heading.  Like the path of a comet that comes back to Earth
every thousand years or so, but...." he shook his head still finding it
hard to believe that a journey that was meant to travel hundreds of
light years into deep space had ended up back where it started.
   Brent felt the queasy sensation return to his stomach as he kept his
eyes locked on the Earth.  Many times, during his flights back from the
moon he had seen the Earth from this position and it had always
produced a sensation of warm reassurance in him.  Now, it produced just
the opposite.  The thought of having to face what the future was like
at home was the most terrifying thing he'd ever pondered.
   Abruptly, a warning light went off on Fowler's console.
   "What the--" the navigator hurriedly consulted some readings
   "Fowler, what's going on?" Rollins demanded.
   The red-haired astronaut looked at the readings in frustration,
"Sir, we've lost the ion trail.  It's dissipated completely."
   "Try getting it back!"
   "I can't sir, we were barely holding on to it.  We haven't lost our
bearing, the trail just dissipated.  There's nothing I can do about
it."
   "Great," Brent rolled his eyes, "Now there's no way of knowing the
exact spot the Magellan touched down."
   "Maybe not," Rollins tried to regain some optimistic initiative in
his voice, "But if we just keep going on a perfectly straight heading,
we ought to be sticking to the contours of where the trail line was. 
We might not land in the exact spot, but we should be roughly in the
ballpark."
   "Which can mean hundreds of miles on a planet the size of the
Earth," Brent felt the queasiness inside him increasing, "We'd have to
search the planet for God knows how long, and have to deal with an
entirely new civilization that would never believe for a moment who we
are and where we came from."
   "We'll just have to take that risk, Brent," Rollins said firmly.
   "Should we?" Brent raised his voice, "Sir, if I may make a
recommendation, I think we ought to abort the mission and start making
preparations to get back to our own time as quickly as possible."
   A look of incredulous anger came over the commander's face, "You
what?"
   Fowler was also taken aback by Brent's words, "Hey come on Brent,
there's no need to panic yet."
   "I'm sorry, but I think we're getting into dangerous territory if we
move on with this," Brent held his ground, "I don't think it's good for
us to have a sneak preview of what the future is like."
   "What are you afraid of Brent?" Rollins looked at him
disbelievingly.
   "Plenty," the sandy-haired astronaut looked at the Earth again, "I
just....Jesus, I don't want to know what the future is like.  Don't any
of you realize the burden we'd be putting on ourselves if we went back
to our own time knowing everything that happened for the next 2000
years?"
   "Brent, we're not even going to have time for finding out how
everything turned out," Rollins said patiently, "All we do is find
Taylor and the others, and get out quick."
   "Do you really think it's going to be so simple?" Brent felt on the
verge of losing control as he got out of his chair and started to pace
back and forth, "It might take weeks for us to figure out where they
are, especially when we've got a whole planet full of people to find
them in.  And by then we'd have learned too much."
   "What do you mean 'too much'?" this from Fowler.
   Brent glared at the navigator, "By the time we got back to our own
time, they'd be hounding us for all the information on what the future
is like.  Every unscrupulous politician, businessman and general will
want to know all the details to try and profit from that information. 
We'd end up....Jesus I can't begin to think of what that would mean for
us and our families."
   Fowler, who had a wife and a seven year old son, pursed his lips and
allowed Brent's words to sink in.  An uneasy flicker passed over the
navigator's face.
   Rollins, a widower with no children and no other family, saw it and
immediately gave Fowler a withering, angry glance that caused the
navigator to slink back in his chair.
   "What the hell are we conducting here, a goddamned philosophy
class?" the commander angrily snapped as he got to his feet and assumed
the most erect command posture he could muster, "Major Brent, let's get
a few facts in order.  We are on a mission with orders to find and
rescue the crew of the Magellan because of the shocking revelation six
months after they left, that Consolidated Dynamics, which furnished all
of the computer systems that were going to take our friends across the
stars to a habitable planet in Betelgeuse, installed a navigational
system that wasn't worth a crock of shit.  It was going to take them
totally off course and conceivably to a planet or system where they had
no chance of survival.  So that's why the three of us volunteered to
use the Magellan II to follow the trajectory they took and rescue
them."
   "I'm aware of that, sir," Brent tried not to look intimidated as he
assumed a posture of attention.
   "And you should also be aware that at this point, the mission has
been a total success.  We've traced the Magellan's trajectory to a
place where we know that Taylor and the others have to be alive.  That
means we go ahead, no questions asked and I don't care if it's the
future Earth we have to search.  Unless of you course, you and Captain
Fowler decide to stage a little coup d'etat."
   "No sir," Brent said summoning all the respect he could, "No sir,
not at all.  I just think that if we continue with this mission, we'll
end up regretting it."
   "I'll be the judge of that," Rollins said with an air of contempt,
"In the meantime Brent, I suggest you remember that those four people
are your friends as well as mine."
   Not exactly, Brent thought to himself.  Of the four astronauts from
the original crew, Brent only regarded Landon and Stewart as close
friends.  Dodge had been one of the non-military astronaut scientists
that he'd always been leery of and never tried to make friends with.
   And Taylor.  By God, Taylor had the biggest chip on his shoulder of
any man he'd ever met.  Always a surly loner who never liked to
fraternize with any of his colleagues away from the rigors of astronaut
work.  Forever complaining about the miseries of war, environmental
disaster and starvation afflicting the world.  Forever looking to the
stars and wondering if somehow, somewhere, another race existed that
had been able to do things far better than man had.  He came off as so
unlikable, that Brent always made a point of avoiding Taylor like the
plague when they weren't working together on mission-related matters.
   "I'm going back for a quick shower and shave," Rollins headed toward
the rear of the spacecraft, "Fowler, make sure we stay on an absolute
straight line relative to where the trajectory was heading."
   "Yes sir," the navigator seemed a bit subdued as he settled into the
commander's vacant chair, "ETA to landing in twenty hours."
   Brent sighed in resignation and returned his attention to the Earth,
which now took up the view in the entire right side of the cockpit
windows.  He could see the peninsula of Florida, where their journey
had begun so long ago.  He could also see the Gulf Coast and could make
out Texas.  Somewhere down there was Houston.  Where he'd spent so many
happy years with his wife and daughter before the pressures of
astronaut life had destroyed his marriage and left him unable to enjoy
watching his only child grow up.   
   Brent had no way of knowing how this mission into the distant future
was going to turn out, but he was already certain of one thing.  If he
got back home, he was turning in his resignation from the Astronaut
Corps as soon as he could.
   Since he was committed to going ahead with the mission though, he
tried to shift his attention away from his own personal demons to the
enigma of the man they were searching for, Colonel George Taylor.  The
more Brent thought about it, he did have a tinge of curiosity about
what Taylor's reaction had been when he found out he was still on
Earth.  And what there was about the Earth of the 40th century that the
perpetual misanthrope had found to complain about this time.
   In only twenty hours, he would find out for himself if the future
held something worth complaining about.

                    Chapter Two

   The three vipers had penetrated the upper atmosphere of Earth and
were fast descending toward the surface.  Since they'd made the
decision to proceed, there'd been little conversation between the three
pilots.  All of them felt the same edge of uneasy tension about what it
was they might find on the planet that had been at the center of their
hopes and dreams for most of their lives.
   In Hera's case, it had taken up an entire lifetime since she had
been among those born in space, and hence had no memory of what life
had been like in the Colonies.  Indeed, very seldom had she ever heard
stories of what the Colonies had been like from her parents, or from
people who'd been adults at the time of the Destruction like Starbuck,
Cassiopeia, or her Aunt Athena.  For the most part, there was a
tendency among adult survivors of the Holocaust to never talk about the
Colonies, because it too often proved to be a painful reminder of
wonderful things that had been taken from them forever in just one
terrible night.
    It was different for those who'd been small children at the time,
like Boxey.  Because of the reticence from her parents, Hera had
frequently found herself asking her older brother about the memories he
had of living on Caprica.  Of what it was like to know the joy of
living in the open space of an entire planet as opposed to the confines
of a ship floating in space.  To her delight, Boxey was willing to
oblige her.  He would tell her of the times when his late mother Serina
would take him on trips to Caprica's southern regions and he'd end up
wading into the warm ocean waters of the Eastern Sea waiting for the
waves to come in with the tide, and not wanting to come out of the
water until Serina was literally forced to drag him out.
   Her brother's stories always left Hera with the hope that she'd
experience that same kind of joy and freedom some time in her lifetime. 
As a result, she wasn't as concerned over the apparent lack of
technology on Earth as Starbuck and Boxey were.  For her, she was
willing to take any kind of planet to settle on as a wonderful new
experience.
   "Penetrating the atmosphere," Starbuck said as they passed through
the cloud cover, "We should have some visual contact with ground
level...now!"
   The pilots looked down and saw the clouds lift and the sight of land
beneath them.  It was the strangest mixture of topography that Starbuck
had ever seen on any planet he'd visited.  He could see the clear blue
waters of a large lake bordering some towering, rugged desert mountain
peaks.  But to the horizon, the Galactica warriors could see the
mountains and desert level off abruptly into the fertile green areas of
forests and jungle. 
   "Almost looks like a whole mixture of climates in this one area,"
Boxey finally broke the silence.
   "Yeah," Starbuck nodded, "And this definitely backs up that absence
of technology you scanned.  Can you pinpoint where the lifeform
readings are centered?"
   "No great surprise there, Starbuck," Hera said, "My scanner shows
all the lifeforms concentrated back in that jungle area.  That's the
place we've got to check out."
   The grizzled captain grinned, "As always Hera, you have such an
instinctive grasp of the situation, that you deny me the chance to give
the order myself."
   The three vipers glided over the desert peaks and saw the brownish,
barren terrain change over to a lush, fertile green.  As soon as a
clearing came into view, they brought them down there.
   As Starbuck popped open the canopy of his viper and looked about the
field, he felt his second flash of deja vu of the day.  Setting down in
the open field, bordered by a dense forest of trees put him in mind of
another time long ago, when he and Apollo and Sheba had landed in an
open field of a lonely planet.  And within a short period of time,
found themselves introduced to the most enigmatic figure they would
encounter in any of their lifetimes: a mysterious man in white robes
calling himself Count Iblis.
   All that's missing is the red glow and it's as if it's twenty five
yahrens ago, Starbuck mused as he dropped to the ground.  From the
other side of the field, Boxey and Hera were making their way over to
him.
   "Well, here we are," Starbuck said, "Not exactly the scenario I
envisioned for the first landing on Earth, but it seems like we have to
deal with it and find some answers."
   Hera, once again showing her sense of restless initiative, had
already pulled out her micro-scan device and activated it.
   There's no mistaking the command instinct inside her, Starbuck said
to himself.  She's not going to remain an Ensign for long.  Indeed, it
wouldn't have surprised  Starbuck a bit if Hera ended up outranking her
older brother someday.  There was no doubt that Boxey was a good
warrior who'd paid his dues and gone through his share of combat
opportunities since receiving his commission five yahrens ago, but the
grizzled captain felt that Boxey seemed to have just a tinge less
determination and fire than his younger sister did.  It was a
difference that would only become noticeable over the long haul though.
   As Hera activated her micro-scanner it didn't take long for the
machine to start emitting a series of beeps.
   "Lifeform contacts indicated just over one thousand metrones through
that first cluster of trees," Hera motioned her arm.
   "Okay," Starbuck said, "Have weapons ready at low stun setting only. 
The last thing we want to do is cause trouble.  If we can keep
ourselves hidden, we'll be a lot better off."
   The three warriors made their way forward toward the forest
perimeter.  Once they entered, they had to constantly brush away
numerous branches and leaves to keep moving.  The density of the
foliage was so great that for Boxey, it reminded him of his childhood
days playing hide and seek with his classmates inside the agro-ship. 
For Starbuck, it almost reminded him of the dim memories of wandering
through the Thorn Forest after the Umbra disaster that had left him
orphaned.
   After pushing away more thick clumps of leafy twigs, they could see
the glare of sunlight in the distance indicating that they were close
to another open field area.  The beeping on Hera's micro-scanner was
starting to intensify.
   "There are definitely people on that other side," Hera said, "These
preliminary readouts are correlating to human lifeforms right down to
the last detail."
   "Doing what?" Boxey snorted, "What in Kobol goes on in a planet
where you have no apparent technology yet still have the capacity for
spaceflight?"
   "We'll know soon enough," Starbuck said as he stepped in front of
them to assume the lead position, "And let's start keeping our voices
down."
   Starbuck reached the end of the forest perimeter and crouched sown
behind the last row of leafy bushes.  He slowly pulled out his laser
pistol from his holster and then cautiously pushed the branches aside
so he could peer out into the field.
   The veteran warrior saw what looked like a well-cultivated field of
maize plants.  The sweet golden vegetable had always been one of the
more expensive and rare food items in the Fleet's stock of plants and
crops aboard the agro-ship.  So rare that even a regular visitor to the
Rising Star's Main Dining Hall was forced to pay more than two hundred
cubits to enjoy a full serving with his dinner.  Seeing a large
abundance of the crop was by far, the first encouraging thing Starbuck
had seen since landing.
   If there's loads of maize on this planet, I've hit the jackpot, the
perpetual wheeler-dealer side of him was once again kicking in.  They
say it makes the best sweet ale you ever tasted.  I'd get the Black
Market guys to pay me a thousand cubits a pound for this stuff.   
   "What do you see?" Boxey whispered.
   Starbuck turned around and smirked, "Loads of maize.  Looks like
we've stumbled on to some kind of agro-community."
   "What about people?" Hera asked as she muted the sound emanating
from her micro-scanner.
   "Don't see anybody yet," Starbuck turned his attention back to the
field.
   "I've got field-magnifiers with me," Boxey said as he detached an
object from the left side of his holster.
   "Then you take a look," Starbuck stepped aside and allowed the
black-haired lieutenant to push away the foliage of the bush so he
could see.  Boxey then brought the magnifiers up to his eyes with the
other hand and focused his attention on the center of the field.
   "I think I see some movement going on," he said in a low tone,
"Those plants are moving, and I don't think it's the wind." Boxey made
a quick adjustment to the magnifiers and squinted through them to catch
the clearest possible glimpse of what was causing the plants to move.
   Finally, he saw it.  First one, then a second, then another, and
finally a whole cluster of them.
   "I see them!" he whispered in exhilaration, "A whole bunch of them,
and they're human all right but----" abruptly his voice trailed off and
he frowned.
   "What?" Starbuck touched his arm.
   Boxey shook his head, "Those are the strangest looking humans I've
ever seen.  They don't look like agro-workers."
   "Let me see," Starbuck took the magnifiers from Boxey and focused
his attention on the maize field.
   He could see what looked like twelve to fifteen humans aimlessly
wandering about through the field.  What amazed Starbuck was their
primitive, unkempt appearance.  The men and women were all golden in
complexion with shaggy manes of dark brown hair that fell past their
shoulders, with the men all sporting enormously thick, scraggly beards. 
All of them were practically naked, wearing only small loincloth type
garments that seemed to be made from a coarse bark material rather than
animal skin.  But what amazed Starbuck the most was the posture and
bearing of the humans.  They seemed to slouch and move about in a
haphazard, reckless manner, some of them plucking an ear of maize from
the field, others just thrashing about the tall plants.
   The magnifiers suddenly gave him a close-up of the face of one of
the men, and Starbuck suddenly realized what it was that disturbed him
the most about these humans.  It was the eyes.  Vacant.  Devoid of any
sense of reason or rationality.
   The longer Starbuck's eyes lingered on them, the more he began to
realize that these humans reminded him more of animals than people. 
The way some of them picked at the maize almost put Starbuck in mind of
watching a bovine grazing in a pasture.  But the disheveled, primitive
appearance of them suggested something more savage than a bovine.
   "Well?" Boxey asked, waiting to hear the veteran warrior's analysis.
   Starbuck lowered the magnifiers and shook his head, "They look like
a group that escaped from the Nuthouse.  Whatever they are, they're not
the ones we eventually make contact with."  
   "Captain," Hera was still looking at her micro-scanner, "I'm now
getting an indication of more lifeforms coming this way.  But the
scanner says they're not human."
   Before Starbuck could respond to her, the three warriors heard a low
rumbling noise that seemed to he headed towards the maize field from
the area to their left.
   "Sounds like a herd of equines," Starbuck said as he focused his
magnifiers to the left of the maize field.  Right away, he could see
that his hunch was correct.  The four-legged animals that held much
symbolism in the history of the Colonies (and had also been the logo of
the Battlestar Pegasus's flight squadrons) were quite distinct.  Not so
distinct were the riders.  Even with the magnifiers, they seemed too
indistinct, though Starbuck could make out what looked like thick,
leather clothing covering a dark body.
   "Looks like the agro-workers are arriving to deal with them,"
Starbuck lowered his magnifiers.
   "What workers?" Hera frowned, "Starbuck, my scanner isn't reading
any humans entering the area."
   The captain looked at her dubiously, "What do you mean it's not
picking up other humans?  There are people riding those equines so your
scanner has to show them."
   "Well it isn't!" Hera angrily thrust the device at the captain, "All
I'm getting are animal contacts."
   "For crying out loud," Starbuck shook his head in disbelief and
handed the magnifiers to the sandy-haired ensign, "Look Hera, see for
yourself."
   Hera stepped forward and raised the magnifiers so she could look out
into the maize field.
   Five microns later, she abruptly dropped the device.
   "Lords of Kobol," Hera staggered back two steps and whispered in
horror.  A tone of horror that Boxey and Starbuck had never heard in
her voice before.
   "What?" Boxey came over and put a hand on her shoulder, "What do you
see?"
   "Those aren't people riding them," she whispered and wildly gestured
her hand, "Look."
   Starbuck and Boxey both peered out through the bushes and their jaws
fell open in shock when they saw clearly the figures riding on the
equines.
   "Siminoids," the captain whispered under his breath.
   Only Starbuck had ever seen a siminoid at one time in his life. 
When he was ten yahrens old and living in the orphanage set up for the
Umbra disaster survivors, he'd been taken on an outing with the other
children to the Caprica Animal Preserve, located deep on the southern
continent as an untouched shelter for rare and endangered species of
animals to roam free.  The one group of animals he'd seen that had
scared him the most, even from the safety of an air tram overlooking
the Preserve, were the class known as siminoids.  Because siminoids
were the one known class of animals that had physiologies similar to
human beings in general terms, the young Starbuck had found their
repelling appearance reminiscent of the deformed monsters he'd see in
his childhood nightmares.  That was especially true of the siminoid
class known as 'gorillas.'  The smaller siminoids called 'chimpanzees'
and the orange colored ones dubbed 'orangutans' came off as slightly
more docile, but the sight of the wild gorillas going on a rampage
through the Preserve and slaughtering several other animals with their
brute strength for food proved to be unnevering for most of the
children riding the air tram.  Starbuck could still remember burying
his face in his hands to avoid looking at the sight, and then becoming
fearful that the tram would suffer a mishap that would cause them to
crash into the Preserve and be terrorized by the gorillas. 
   The creatures riding the equinians were clearly of the gorilla
class.  And what made them more frightening then the beasts Starbuck
recalled from childhood were that these gorillas had the proper dress
and bearing of normal human beings.  To the three Galactica warriors it
was a scene that suggested a total reversal in roles.
   Neither Boxey nor Hera had ever seen a siminoid in person at any
time in their lives.  The decision had been made during the hasty
period of the Exodus from the Colonies not to take any specimens with
them, since it was deemed that they served no useful purpose for
humans.  But the uneasiness they had produced in humans remained a part
of Colonial culture.  Many books and entertainment stories that spun
tales of colorful, hideous monsters frequently used the siminoids as a
starting point for their graphic descriptions.  In time, the younger
generation of children who had never seen a live siminoid, had come to
think of them as something that only inhabited their nightmares.
   The stunned horror on Starbuck, Hera, and Boxey's faces only
increased when they saw that the gorillas were carrying long guns that
they recognized as ancient numos, which fired metallic projectiles from
a compressed air mechanism.  And as soon as they converged on the
humans roaming the field, the gorillas immediately cocked their numos
and began to open fire.
   As the warriors saw two humans fall to the ground, Hera turned to
Starbuck, seething with anger, "Aren't we going to do something?"
   Starbuck was in a state of shock.  The order was to avoid all
contact with the natives, but this was one scenario that no one had
ever envisioned in a million yahrens.
   "We probably should," he drew out his laser pistol, "Those are
brothers of ours getting slaughtered.  Maybe some laser fire will scare
them off."
   "I agree," Boxey pulled out his own laser pistol and flicked the
switch that increased the setting from light to heavy stun.  Hera and
Starbuck though, went one step further and adjusted the setting to
kill.
   "Okay," Starbuck said over the crack of the numo shots as he moved
into position by the edge of the bush, "On my signal, charge out and
open fire."
   Starbuck poked his head through the bushes and saw that there were
six gorillas in all riding equines, four of them armed with numos, the
other two riding side-by-side and holding what looked like a giant net. 
As they bore down on a cluster of fleeing humans, he instantly realized
that it was meant to trap them in the same way a fisherman would catch
fish from the sea.
   "NOW!" Starbuck shouted as he darted out of the bushes and into the
clearing.  Boxey and Hera were right at his feet.  The grizzled captain
promptly took aim at one of the gorillas holding the net and fired. 
The red streak of laser fire sailed across the field and struck the
siminoid right in the chest.  Instantly, he fell off his mount to the
ground causing the net to go slack.
   The flaming red streak and its powerful impact was a sight that none
of the humans or apes had ever seen before.  It caught them completely
by surprise at first.  When the gorillas saw where the red streaks were
coming from, looks of total incredulity came over their faces.
   The primitive humans began to wildly scatter about in different
directions, taking advantage of the confusion that had set in.  As the
gorillas tried to regroup, Starbuck, Boxey and Hera kept up their
barrage of fire.  Two more gorillas were knocked off their horses and
collapsed to the ground.
   And then, it was the warriors turn to be shocked when the lead
gorilla suddenly shouted in the clearest sounding voice, "Regroup! 
Regroup!"
   The sound of normal speech emanating from something they had only
thought of in terms of a savage animal was an even more shocking
revelation for the Galactica warriors.  It caused Starbuck to lower his
guard for just a split second.  A split second that gave one of the
remaining gorillas time to aim his rifle and fire.
   Starbuck felt the lead projectile hit him in the right shoulder.  He
staggered two steps back and dropped his laser into the thick grass
bordering the maize field.  He gritted his teeth in pain as he got down
to try and dig it up.
   Hera and Boxey quickly took time to regroup and got off another shot
at the gorilla who had wounded Starbuck.  His shot struck the horse
inside, and the animal let out a wild sound of pain, throwing its
occupant clear off into the brush.
   The remaining two gorillas managed to get clear of the area and rode
off back the way they had come.  They were soon too far away for the
Galactica warriors to get off any more shots.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted with concern as she and Boxey sprinted to
where he was still clutching his shoulder and trying to find his laser
pistol.
   "I'll be okay," he grunted as he clenched his teeth, "Frack!"
   "I think we've worn out our welcome on our first visit to Earth,"
Boxey said with no mirth as he looked about the field and shook his
head in disbelief, "What kind of a planet is this place?  Talking
siminoids that act like humans, and humans that act like....." he
trailed off and shuddered.
   "That act like siminoids," his sister finished for him.  "None of
this makes any sense."
   Starbuck finally found his laser pistol and reattached it to his
holster.  Feeling the sting in his shoulder increase, he threw off his
uniform jacket.  It instantly exposed the red blood stain on his tunic
underneath where the projectile had penetrated.
   "Is that projectile still in you, or did it just graze off?" Boxey
asked with concern.
   Starbuck shook his head, "It's still in there." he let out a grim
chuckle, "I guess Cassie's going to have to do some old-fashioned
surgery to take care of this."
   "Can you fly?"
   Again, Starbuck chuckled as he tore off a strip of material from his
jacket to use as a makeshift tourniquet, "After thirty yahrens of
getting shot at with lasers by Cylons, I'm not about to let a numo
projectile from a siminoid ground me."
   "Let's get out of here," Hera said, "This is not the time to go
investigating any further.  Not without a whole assault team of
warriors."
   "Agreed," the captain nodded.  "Although how we explain this to the
Commander is not going to be easy."
   They had started to move toward the forest that led back to their
vipers when they heard the low, ominous rumble of equines in the
distance yet again.  They turned back and saw to their horror more than
twenty gorillas charging toward them at incredible speed.
   "Take cover!" Starbuck shouted as the three warriors suddenly
scattered about the field.  "There's too many of them!"
   Hera dashed toward the far side of the maize field where another
stretch of forest loomed.  She heard the crack of numo shots whistling
over her head and felt her heart pumping faster than it had during her
first and only viper combat engagement with Cylon fighters.
   The tall grassy weeds sloped up toward the entry point into the
forest.  Hera threw herself behind a rock directly at the top of the
slope and crouched into a ready position.  She could see two siminoid
riders headed directly toward her.
   She rapidly got to her feet and fired at point blank range.  Her
shots hit their targets, and the two gorillas fell off.
   To her horror, she could see that the maize field was literally
being overrun by more than thirty gorillas brandishing numos and nets. 
It had reached a point where she knew that even with her superior laser
pistol, she and her fellow warriors didn't stand a chance of fighting
them off all by themselves.
   Hera whipped out her mini-comm, "Starbuck, Boxey, do you read me?"
   There was no response.  She strained her eyes down below trying to
locate where they were.  Finally, after a micron she saw Starbuck rise
up from the middle of the field to a standing position where he seemed
ready to open fire on a new pack of charging siminoids.
   "Starbuck!" Hera shouted, "Get out of there!"
   Whether he heard her or not, she couldn't tell.  The grizzled
captain had an air of defiance on his face as he opened fire at the
charging hoard.
   Another shot from the numo then rang out, and Hera saw in horror
that Starbuck had been hit in the shoulder yet again.  He staggered
back two steps slightly and seemed on the verge of collapsing into the
field when two riders brandishing a net suddenly scooped it down into
the field and snagged the warrior in it.
   The horses dragged the net for more than twenty feet, and Hera could
see Starbuck tangled up inside the roped prison, thrashing himself
about.  He had lost his laser pistol and was totally helpless at this
point.
   Hera was on the verge of charging out to shoot the two gorillas who
had captured Starbuck, but she had no sooner gone two feet into the
open when she saw a column of ten gorilla riders holding back.  She
instantly cursed herself, because she now realized that they'd been
waiting for her to expose herself.
   "Get that human!" the lead gorilla, who seemed to be wearing a more
military type of clothing with several epaulets at the shoulders,
shouted at the top of his voice as he pointed toward Hera.  "Don't let
her escape!"
   The young female warrior realized that there was nothing she could
do for Starbuck at this point.  Her first duty was to avoid capture and
find some way of getting word back to the Galactica.
   She saw that the equine from one of the gorillas she'd shot, was
aimlessly wandering about, ten feet away.  As the siminoid riders
started to move toward her, Hera realized that the animal offered her
only chance.
   She sprinted towards it, and managed to leap on to the animal's
back.  It was the first time in her life that she'd ever tried to ride
an equine, since there were so few of them kept in the Fleet and no
facilities for riding them.  But she had played a number of computer
games in the Rejuvenation Center ever since she was a child to know how
the riding principal worked.  Now, all the memories of those childhood
games would be more important to her immediate survival than any of the
things she'd been taught in the Warrior Training School.
   As soon as she was on the animal, she jerked the reins with all her
strength and gave the equine a firm kick in the side with her boot. 
The animal reared itself up and let out a whinny of pain, but then
began to move off at incredible speed.
   Hera almost lost her hold on the animal but held on to the reins
tightly and within microns had managed to settle into a comfortable
riding position.  The equine galloped at a fast pace down the length of
the open field toward a cluster of green covered hills in the distance. 
A quick glance indicated to Hera that the jungle was much denser and
thicker in that area.
   She looked back and saw that at least seven of the gorillas were
still pursuing her.  For the moment, she was maintaining an even pace
with them, which would keep them from catching up.  But how long she'd
be able to do that, she had no way of knowing.
   Above the sounds of the galloping, she heard the crack of another
numo shot.  It only added to the sense of horror she felt that this was
every childhood nightmare come to life.  It took her mind back to when
she was five, she had dreamed of being chased in a dark, empty ship by
a horrific-looking siminoid.  It had been so frightening that she had
waken up crying and screaming, which brought Apollo and Sheba dashing
in from the next room to see what was wrong and then comfort her.  She
could remember her mother holding her tight and whispering tenderly
again and again, "Don't be afraid Hera.  There are no siminoids. 
You'll never be hurt by one for as long as you live.
   As the memory filled her mind, Hera almost felt like laughing.  This
was going to be the most memorable day of her life, but it had turned
out that way for entirely different reasons.
   Crack!
   This time, Hera not only heard the numo burst, she could also hear
the sound of the projectile whistling over her head.  She didn't need
to turn around to realize that the siminoids were getting closer.
   She had to admit the obvious.  She could not outrun them
indefinitely.  She had to make another tactical move if she was going
to elude them.
   She could feel her equine going up the incline of a hill and when it
reached the top, the ground began to rapidly slope downward at an
almost forty-five degree angle.  She realized in an instant that she
was out of sight of her pursuers for the time being.  That meant she
had to make some kind of move before they reached the top of the
incline.
   Hera tugged at the reins to get the equine to slow down.  As soon as
the animal's speed slackened, she let go and threw herself off, making
sure that she'd tucked herself into a roll position that would soften
her impact with the ground.
   Immediately, she got to her feet and sprinted toward the forest
bordering the left side of the field.  She made it inside just as she
heard the pounding hoofbeats of her pursuers come soaring over the top
of the incline.  And then, they slackened off indicating that the
equines had come to a stop.
   Hera tried to keep her breathing under control as she pressed
herself behind a tree and went absolutely still.  The slightest sound
could be enough to tip them off.
   "Where did she go?" she heard one of the gorillas bellow, "Where did
that scum go?"
   "I can't tell, General Ursus," an apologetic voice answered, "It
looks like she's hid herself."
   "Do we keep searching, General?" another voice chimed in.
   There was a brief silence before the gruff sounding voice of the one
identified as General Ursus spoke.
   "No, I suppose we shouldn't waste any more time, since we've already
got one of them.  The sooner we go back and present him to Dr. Zaius,
the better.  Our Chief Scientist is going to have a lot of explaining
to do."
   One of them, Hera thought to herself as she remained motionless. 
That meant they hadn't captured Boxey.
   "I disagree sir," an urgent voice spoke up, "You saw what they could
do with those....those fire guns!  If one of them is allowed to stay
free, let alone two, it could mean disaster for us all!"
   "I appreciate your sense of urgency, Urko," Ursus said gently, "But
I think we should send in some fresh reinforcements to look for both of
those humans.  They won't have much trouble spotting them."
   She heard the equines start to move back in the other direction.  A
moment later, there was nothing but the quiet sound of the wind blowing
through the tall field grass and the occasional chirping of a bird.
   Cautiously, Hera stuck her head out and saw that the field was
empty.  She exhaled with relief and reached for her mini-comm.  But
when she touched the spot on her holster where it should have been, she
felt nothing.  She looked down and saw that it was gone.
   "Frack," she gritted her teeth in anger.  She must have dropped it
or else it had been jarred loose when she had made her impulsive leap
onto the equine's back.  Whatever the case, she was totally unable to
make contact with her brother, wherever he was now.  And she knew that
Starbuck was a prisoner of the siminoids, about to be taken to wherever
they'd come from.
   She knew she had to make her way back to her viper, but at this
point she wasn't sure if she could retrace her steps back to where
she'd landed.  She'd been forced to cover so much ground to get away
from the siminoids that it would probably take a miracle just to find
her way back.  And since the siminoids planned on sending out
reinforcements, it was probably too dangerous anyway to retrace her
steps.
   What then?
   She sat down at the base of the tree as she let out a weary sigh and
stretched her arms out.  She needed to do a lot of thinking about what
her next move was going to be.
   What would you do, Mother?  she idly asked herself.  Or you, Father? 
And what would Grandpa Cain do if he were in a spot like this?  She had
always loved hearing the stories Sheba had told her about her maternal
grandfather's legendary exploits.  About how the warrior known as the
Juggernaut always managed to find his way out of the tightest spots
imaginable in combat.
   But then again, she reflected, it was one thing to try and fight
back against an attacking armada of Cylon fighters and baseships with
smaller numbers.  This was something entirely different.  It was a
scenario where she was truly alone, and left with very little to
improvise an effective counter-move.
   Survival would have to come first.  She needed to make sure there
was food and water to subsist on for the short-term.  For all she knew
she might have to lie low for a considerable length of time before it
would be safe to try and head back.  And by that time, it was
conceivable that their failure to report would cause the Galactica to
send out a search team of their own.
   She lowered her hands and saw that the ring Apollo had given her was
still there.  The sight of it made her chuckle the grimmest chuckle of
her life.  Her father had wanted her to wear it so her grandparents
would find a way of symbolically being there at the end of the long
journey to Earth.  Now it almost seemed as though the greatest
practical joke in the history of the universe had been played on them. 

   Was this what you led us across the universe to find, Grandfather?
   Hera finally got to her feet and realized that asking questions that
couldn't be answered for now was a complete waste of time.  It was time
for her to move on.
   She checked her holster.  She still had her laser pistol, and the
micro-scanner was still in place.  It would certainly come in handy for
now.  She detached the scan device and pointed it toward the heart of
the jungle.
   A blipping sound registered again and she quickly checked the
readout.  She breathed a little easier when she saw that the readout
indicated the contacts somewhere in the distance were all humans.
   But what kind of humans?  Would there be some intelligent ones she
could communicate with?  Or were they more of those savage, primitive
looking ones that the siminoids had been hunting down?
   Knowing that those were questions that could be answered, and needed
to be answered now, she detached her laser and cautiously made her way
deeper into the thick, lush foliage.


   Far away, the daily rituals of life were going on in the community
that General Ursus and the gorillas were making their way back to. 
Here, nearly twenty thousand gorillas, chimpanzees and orangutans lived
in the stone dwellings of Ape City, obediently following the rigid laws
of the Sacred Scrolls handed down a thousand years ago by their great
Lawgiver.  The laws that had become the backbone of ape culture. 
Declaring that apes alone were the only sentient race that had been
given the gift of intelligence and rationality by God, and that they
ruled supreme over all lesser forms of life.  Particularly the hated
beast called man.  
   There were distinctions among the three classes of apes in how they
viewed men.  By far, the gorillas with their warlike instincts hated
man the most.  They saw the beast as a perpetual scavenger that stole
and plundered the food crops needed for apes, and as a result they were
the ones who always went out on the hunts to clear away the scavengers
from the fields.  Although they had orders to bring as many back alive,
they much preferred it when they were able to kill them.
   Orangutans, who constituted the entire Ruling Class of Ape
Civilization, held the same hatred and contempt for man as a scavenger
that the gorillas felt.  The only difference was that they had little
taste for killing for pleasure and sport as the gorillas did.  They
much preferred to let the gorillas do what they regarded as the dirty
work.  So long as humans stayed away and didn't encroach on Ape
territory, they were content to leave them be.  But those humans that
did encroach, could be put to use, so while the gorillas preferred to
shoot them all dead, they preferred to keep humans in cages and have
them perform any labor tasks that their irrational primitive minds were
capable of accomplishing.
   Chimpanzees were the only group of apes that had the remotest trace
of sympathy for humans.  Not that they saw them as anything that could
be potentially as great as an ape, but they did feel that treated with
compassion, the savage instincts of man could be domesticated and
tamed.  If so treated, then ultimately humans could do more for apes
than the mere slave labor tasks that the orangutans only saw them as
good for.  But they only wanted to see humans become pets, not train
them to recapture an intelligence that none of them knew had once
existed in the species long ago.
   Two chimpanzees who knew better about humans, were the psychologist
Zira, and her new husband, the archeologist Cornelius.  They alone knew
firsthand that man did have the capacity to think and reason.  All
because of their chance meeting with a man who spoke and called himself
Taylor.
   Since their return to Ape City after leaving Taylor and Nova to go
journeying up the coastline on horseback, events had moved rapidly
forward in the lives of the psychologist and archeologist.  They had
finally gone ahead with their long-delayed plans to marry and had done
so in a quick ceremony.  And then, they had to prepare themselves for a
trial before the Ruling Class Tribunal, which at Dr. Zaius's
instigation had charged them with one count each of scientific heresy.
   As they sat in the stone-backed chairs and waited for the three
orangutans who comprised the Tribunal to enter, there were different
emotions raging through the two chimpanzees.  Cornelius felt a sense of
resignation that left him prepared to accept anything the Tribunal
would sentence him to.  All his life, he'd carried within him a
perpetual instinct for trying to avoid confrontation and conflict.  It
was the reason why he was so ordinarily reserved in demeanor and so
uncomfortable taking bold steps.  He knew it was why he'd been so
reluctant for many years to ask Zira to become his wife.  And he also
knew why he had been so reluctant to even think of presenting the
evidence of what he had found in the dig inside the Forbidden Zone.
   The dig, he thought with a trace of grim irony.  That place where he
had found traces of a human civilization that dated back far earlier
than the recorded time when the Sacred Scrolls had been written by the
Lawgiver.  He'd been too terrified to think of making his findings
public.  It represented the greatest possible challenge to the codes
that Apes had lived under for countless generations.  It made a mockery
of the sacred idea in Ape religion that they alone had been chosen by
the Almighty to possess the gift of intelligence and rational thought,
and that the Ape had been created in the Almighty's image.  For if
intelligent humans had existed before intelligent apes had, the concept
didn't have any legs to stand on.
   Taylor had forced Dr. Zaius to confront the dig when he had escaped
into the Forbidden Zone with Cornelius and Zira's help.  He had forced
the Chief Scientist to see the evidence that had existed in the cave
alongside the ocean.  The tools.  The artifacts.  The human doll that
talked.
   Dr. Zaius had put up a blustering facade at first, but even he
eventually conceded that he had always known about the truth of what
man was long before Cornelius had told him about the dig.
   "The Forbidden Zone was once a Paradise," he had said with angry
defiance to Taylor, "Your breed made a wasteland of it."
   And so, the Chief Scientist had let Taylor and Nova go off on their
journey up the coastline, giving him the cryptic warning, "You may not
like what you find."  It indicated that Dr. Zaius knew of things deep
inside the Forbidden Zone that far exceeded anything Cornelius had
found in the dig.
   But as soon as Taylor and Nova had gone, the Chief Scientist had
ordered the cave destroyed.  And he had also vowed to have Cornelius
and Zira brought up on charges of heresy.  Not because he believed the
charge, but because he was determined to not let the truth about
mankind get out.  For now, Dr. Zaius's duty as Chief Defender of the
Faith exceeded his duty as the Chief Scientist and promoter of Truth
and Knowledge.  That meant convicting Cornelius and Zira of the false
charge that they had made Taylor a talking beast through corrupt,
experimental surgery on a typical mute human.  That was the only
explanation that could reassure the general ape public that there were
no such things as talking humans.
   The trial had been swift and quick, exactly as the two chimpanzees
had expected it to be.  And now, they awaited news from the Tribunal as
to their sentence.
   Cornelius glanced at his wife and could see the look of anger
boiling up inside her.  Temperamentally, his wife was the opposite of
him.  Zira possessed a sharp tongue, a quick temper and a willingness
to speak her mind whenever she felt like it, no matter how much she
risked getting herself into trouble.  In many ways, her feistiness was
why he had fallen in love with her so many years ago.  But now, he
found himself praying to the God he still believed in (even though he
no longer believed in the truth of the Sacred Scrolls that claimed to
be written in His name) that Zira would hold her tongue on this day. 
If she made any angry outbursts, it would probably mean a stiff prison
sentence and total ruination for them both.
   The door to the far right of the room opened and the three
orangutans who made up the Tribunal entered and sat down at the table
in front of the two chimpanzees.  The President of the Ape Assembly,
the nominal civil government of Ape Civilization, took his place at the
center of the table with the two other members flanking him.  He tapped
his gavel, signaling that the Tribunal was now in formal session.
   "This tribunal has weighed all of the evidence presented against the
accused and has at last reached its decision." he began in that
sonorous tone that had long ago earned him the respect of every
legislator in the Ape Assembly.
   Cornelius felt himself tense and reached under the table to squeeze
Zira's hand. 
   "The tribunal finds you, Dr. Cornelius, and you, Dr. Zira, guilty of
one charge of promoting scientific heresy," the President said
solemnly, "Please rise to await sentence."
   The two chimpanzees dutifully rose from their stone backed chairs.
   "Ordinarily, the sentence for such an offense against our Faith is
two years in prison.  However, at the request of Dr. Zaius, who brought
the indictment against you, the tribunal shall exercise the leniency
that Ape Law is so noted for."
   Zira felt herself almost biting her lower lip in an effort to avoid
making a sarcastic retort.
   "Cornelius.  Zira.  The tribunal suspends the sentence of prison
time.  Dr. Zira, because your heresy stems from your dangerous
interactions with humans, your license to study them is revoked for a
period of not less than two years.  You will continue to receive your
full salary and benefits as a psychologist, but you must now turn your
attention to another species of animal....or your own race."
   The psychologist's mouth fell open slightly in a mixture of anger
and amazement.  Cornelius felt himself fearing the worst, that his wife
would make an outburst that would immediately bring a harsher sentence
against her.  To his relief, she said nothing.
   The President then turned his gaze to Zira's new husband,
"Cornelius, you too shall receive no loss of pay and benefits as an
employee of the Ministry of Science.  However, you are forbidden from
engaging in any future archeological studies and like Zira, are
forbidden to ever speak or mention the name of the mutant being called
'Taylor' to anyone from this day forward."
   Cornelius kept his expression stoic, his bearing firm and erect.
   "Do you accept the judgment of this tribunal, and pledge on the
Sacred Scrolls that you will abide by it?"
   "I so pledge," the archeologist said with only a hint of
resignation.
   "And you, Zira?"
   Zira suppressed an urge to spit on the President, "I so pledge," she
angrily forced her words out.
   "So be it," the President rapped his gavel, "This tribunal now
stands adjourned.  You are both free to go."
   The three orangutans rose and departed, leaving the two chimpanzees
alone.
   Cornelius let out a sigh of relief, "Much less than I expected," he
said, "We should both feel grateful."
   "Grateful?" Zira bolted from her chair and threw a withering glance
at her husband, "Convicted unjustly and deprived of our livelihood, and
you feel grateful?"
   "Would you have preferred prison, Zira?" he looked up at her and
kept his tone patient, "That's not how I would have preferred to start
our new life as a married couple."
   "Always putting self-interest ahead of the truth!" she said in an
angry huff as she sat down again.
   Cornelius kept his attention on her.
   "What do you want of me, Zira?" he asked, "If you're asking me to
become an angry crusader for reform, I can't do it.  As long as there
is a Ruling Class that believes in stifling the Truth, there is little
you or I or any other chimpanzee can do.  If God willing our society is
to reform itself some day, it will have to take place because of change
from within their ranks."
   She avoided looking at him and folded her arms in defiance.
   "Your trouble Cornelius, is that you're like most chimpanzees," she
said, "Always content with your lot.  Always content to be a permanent
second-class citizen in our stratified society."
   "Fate could have picked something worse for me," he injected a tiny
edge of levity into his voice, "I could have been born a gorilla.  Even
you will concede Zira, that as chimpanzees we do occupy the
middle-class of Ape Society.  We enjoy privileges and benefits that no
gorilla will ever know."
   "Gorillas will never know what it means to think!" she spat, "And
we've seen firsthand how perpetually closed-minded orangutans will
always be!"
   Cornelius looked toward the door and then froze in horror when he
saw the orangutan who was Chief Scientist standing there.
   "Zira!" he hissed, "Dr. Zaius is here."
   The psychologist looked up and flushed with embarrassment.
   "You have a very powerful way with words, Dr. Zira," the orangutan
smiled as he made his way over to them, using his cane for support,
"It's a pity that chimpanzees can't serve in the Assembly."
   "Dr. Zaius," Cornelius got to his feet and practically stammered his
words, "My deepest apologies for Zira's conduct.  I hope that----"
   The orangutan raised his cane and smiled disarmingly, "Do not
apologize Cornelius.  All legal matters pertaining to the both of you
are done with.  In fact, were I in your position I would probably feel
the same way."  he sat down in the chair next to Zira.  "But I gave you
my word during our return from the Forbidden Zone that I would see to
it that neither of you spent a day in prison or lost a penny in wages. 
You should have been more trusting of me."
   Zira forced herself to look at the Chief Scientist, "You also gave
us your word that the contents of the cave would be revealed!"
   "Yes, yes, I know," Dr. Zaius lowered his head, "Were I a younger
ape with more faith in my fellow simian, I would have kept my word
about that.  But I am at a stage in my life where I have no desire to
be the instrument of the greatest social upheaval our civilization
would have known in untold hundreds of years."
   "You yourself said that the teachings of the Sacred Scrolls about
Man can be reconciled with the existence of an ancient human
civilization," Cornelius said, "Surely it would not be as great an
upheaval as you fear for Apes to know the truth of that."
   "I am not worried about the preservation of our religion and the
Sacred Scrolls," Dr. Zaius said, "It is the greater Unknown that I
fear.  Of what potentially lies beyond the Forbidden Zone that Taylor
and his woman now seek."
   "Do you know what lies there, Dr. Zaius?" Zira asked pointedly.
   Again, the orangutan smiled and got to his feet.
   "Come to my office in the Ministry," he said, "And to show my
penance for subjecting you to the humility of this Tribunal, I will
share with you something that no other ape has had the privilege of
seeing."
   Cornelius and Zira exchanged puzzled glances with each other as they
followed the Chief Scientist out.


   Three gorillas on horseback continued to patrol the perimeter of the
maize field, keeping a sharp eye peeled for the two strangely dressed
humans they'd been ordered to capture.
   "Anything to report?" a young gorilla captain named Quintus came up
to them.
   "Nothing sir," one of the scouts said, "We've gone over a ten mile
radius to the East and found nothing."
   "Did it occur to any of you that you might be better advised
checking the jungle regions?" there was an air of frost in Captain
Quintus's voice.  "Show some initiative!"
   "Yes sir, yes sir!"  the scout hastily saluted and turned to the
other two, "Investigate the northern forest line.  Then move on to the
southern line.  We'll fan out from there."
   Twelve feet into the southern line there was movement from a pile of
leaves.  As soon as the sounds of the equines had faded into the forest
on the opposite side of the maize field, the clump was pushed aside and
Boxey emerged at last from his hiding place.
   The Lords of Kobol be praised for camouflage survival courses, he
thought as he got to his feet.  And also for siminoids too dumb to
divide up their forces.
   He promptly dashed back toward the other side of the forest.  Back
in the direction of the field where he and Hera and Starbuck had left
their vipers.  As concerned as he was about what had happened to his
sister and the man who had been his mentor and close friend since he
was a child, the first priority was to get in touch with the Galactica
and let them know what was happening.
   As soon as he reached the exit point of the jungle perimeter, he
tripped over a vine and turned his ankle.  He let out a shout of pain
as he crashed to the ground and scraped his knee against the hard dirt
surface.
   Boxey got to his feet and calmly collected himself before moving on. 
His ankle was throbbing angrily and he realized that he could no longer
run.  Fortunately, he knew that didn't pose as much of a problem for
him as it would have had the siminoids still been pursuing him.
   At his reduced speed, it took him almost a half-centar before he
could see the outline of the vipers looming in the distance.  After all
that the Galactica warrior had been subjected to, they were the most
welcome sight he could ever recall seeing.
   He saw that his mini-comm was still on his holster.  He detached it
and activated it.
   "Hera?" he said into it, "Hera do you copy me?"
   There was a burst of static.  It indicated that her comm-line was
active somewhere.
   "Hera?" he repeated, "Hera?"
   Still nothing.
   Instantly, Boxey realized that his sister didn't have her device any
longer.  In all likelihood, she had probably dropped it somewhere.  If
true, then he couldn't dare risk using it again.  For all he knew, it
might be picked up by one of the searching siminoids.
   Stay calm, he said to himself over and over.  Stay calm.  The first
priority is making contact with the Galactica.  Nothing more.
   Even though that would mean having to tell both his father and
mother that he didn't know what had happened to Starbuck and Hera.
   They'll be fine, he tried to reassure himself.  Starbuck's been
through these kind of things more than once in his lifetime. And Hera. 
Well by God, she's so damned good that her instinct for survival is
probably even greater.  But then again, she has Cain's blood in her.  I
don't.
   As the black-haired lieutenant drew closer on his injured leg, the
vipers grew steadily more distinct.
   Boxey then stopped in his tracks and frowned.  He could have sworn
he'd seen some dark shape moving along the top of the viper that was
closest to him.  At first he thought it was just a reflection off the
open cockpit canopy.  But then, he saw it again.  It was clearly some
kind of creature moving across the top.
   "Hey!" Boxey shouted and suddenly began to run again, in spite of
the pain he felt in his leg.
   The creature looked up as soon as it heard his voice.  In an
instant, Boxey saw that it was one of the primitive humans he'd seen
roaming the field.  And in the next instance, he saw to his horror that
the human was holding several cables that he had pulled out of the
viper control panels.
   "Get out of there!" he shouted again and ran toward the craft, "Get
out of there!"
   And then, Boxey felt an intense fury overtake him as he pulled out
his laser pistol and opened fire.  It struck the human in the chest and
he fell off the craft to the ground.
   When the warrior reached the viper he wasted little time hoisting
himself up.  When he looked in, he felt his heart sink in agony when he
saw that all of the control panels and circuits had been ripped and
plucked out.  There was nothing in there that would function.
   He tried to hold out some hope that the other two vipers were still
intact, but by the time he reached them and had a chance to look
inside, he saw only more of the same.  The three sleek vipers had been
pillaged completely into worthless piles of junk by the bands of mute
humans he had earlier tried to protect.
   "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" he bellowed as he gave a savage kick
to the side of the last of the vipers, again ignoring how it
exacerbated the pain in his leg.  "Frack, felgercarb and shit!"
   He collapsed against the base of the viper and almost felt like
crying.  This was the first time in his life that he could honestly say
he felt hopelessly alone.
   What made things worse was that he knew he couldn't stay in the area
to try and look for Hera and Starbuck or wait for a rescue team from
the Galactica to come.  Sooner or later, the siminoids would extend
their search perimeter.  And the pain he felt in his ankle was now
telling him that there was no way he could run from a large number of
them.
   If he was to survive, he needed to get as far away from the
siminoids as he possibly could.  And hopefully, he might find some
intelligent people he could make contact with at last.  It was hard for
him to believe that the things he'd seen in this short period of time
represented the full extent of what there was on Earth.
   If it did, then he couldn't begin to imagine the sense of betrayal
it would produce among the people of the Fleet.  They would be forced
to confront the terrible prospect that twenty-five yahrens of sacrifice
and struggle in a flight from the Cylons that had taken them all the
way across the galaxy had all been for nothing.
   Boxey noticed a survival kit pack lying on the ground ten feet away
from him.  One of the pillaging humans had evidently tossed it out
without giving any thought to what it was.  He made his way over and
prayed that the contents were still intact.  When he opened it, he
breathed a sigh of relief.  Three days worth of protein bars, and two
full canteens of water still lined the box's interior.  Along with an
additional mini-scanner and a pair of infra-red goggles for night
vision.
   He searched about the debris on the ground for another five centons
and found an extra water canteen from one of the other viper survival
packs.  He clipped it to his holster and decided it would be the first
one he would use.  After he picked up the intact kit, he looked about
and tried to decide where he would move next.
   Far away to the East, he could see the imposing form of tall, craggy
mountains and peaks beckoning.  That was undoubtedly the desert area
they had flown over before landing.  There had been a large body of
water in that area, but no indications of many lifeforms as it did for
the jungle areas.
   It seemed foolish to think that was the direction he should go in. 
Yet something inside Boxey told him that the best plan of action was to
head toward those peaks and into the desert.  He couldn't understand
what that something was, yet he felt it just the same.
   He took a breath and gathered his strength as he began to walk
towards the foreboding, distant scene.

                    Chapter Three

   "Glad you came Boomer," Apollo smiled as his old friend entered the
Galactica's bridge.
   "Always a pleasure," the former warrior smiled back as he slowly
mounted the steps.  For many yahrens he had flown alongside Apollo and
Starbuck in so many missions, but that had all ended ten yahrens ago
when a battle injury had rendered Boomer's left arm permanently
paralyzed and useless.  And leaving him totally incapable of ever
flying a viper again.
   Unable to do the work he loved most, Boomer had opted to retire from
the Service altogether.  Becoming a Bridge Officer was something he
knew he wasn't cut out for.  And so, he had entered a new line of work
that tapped into his love of electronics, joining Dr. Wilker's staff of
scientists.
   Ten yahrens later, Wilker was dead and Boomer now ran the entire
operation (much to the distaste of Wilker's long-time assistant
Fairfax).  He had thrown himself into his new capacity with such
intensity that it had reached a point where he no longer missed being a
warrior.  Not to mention the fact that leaving the Service had made it
easier for him to finally settle down, marry Dietra and have a family.
   "What have you got?" the ex-warrior asked as he settled into the
chair on the upper level in front of Apollo's console.
   "Some new signals to compare with what you've been analyzing for the
last five sectars," Apollo said as he flicked the switch, "This is what
we believe is an Earth spacecraft our patrol encountered before they
went ahead to investigate the planet."
   "I heard about that," Boomer said, "Have they reported back yet?"
   "Not yet," Apollo shook his head, "I don't think it's anything to
worry about for now.  The way things are shaping up, we need as much
information carefully gathered as possible."
   "Let's hope it means nothing wrong," Sheba spoke up quietly, as she
stood off to one side.
   Apollo cast a quick glance at his wife and executive officer to give
her some silent reassurance and then returned his attention to the
monitor.
   "Let me ask your expert opinion, Boomer," the commander said, "Does
this resemble the spacecraft you first noticed in the gamma signals we
started to get a few sectars back?"
   Boomer frowned slightly at the contours of the spacecraft, and then
stuck several discs into the computer terminal.  An instant later, a
fuzzy broken image appeared on the adjacent monitor.  He activated the
image freeze mode and then leaned forward in his chair to look at both
monitors, using his good hand to rub his chin in contemplation.
   "Well?" Apollo asked, "Would you say we're looking at the same
spacecraft?" 
   The Electronics Scientist was silent as he continued to stare in
contemplation.  As he watched, Sheba came up alongside Apollo and they
both looked down at him with interest, waiting for Boomer to give his
assessment.
   Boomer settled back in his chair, a faint trace of incredulity on
his face, "I'd have to say that it's probably not the exact same
spacecraft but it's definitely from the same class.  You can tell that
the contours are almost the same, especially up front in the bow
areas," he glided his hand across the front of the fuzzy image on the
left, and then the clear image on the right.
   "But if you move further back on the current one," his hand
continued to move across the clear image, "It seems clear that there
are some differences.  Much bigger in the stern areas, suggesting more
space and more equipment.  But I would venture that they are close
enough to have been built within a relatively short time frame of each
other."
   Sheba noticed the expression on his face, "You look as though
there's something odd about that."
   Boomer awkward exhale, "Well ah, as a matter of fact there is."
   "What?" Apollo frowned, "Tell us."
   The ex-warrior seemed slightly embarrassed, "Commander, Colonel, I
have to level with you about something that my team didn't put in our
report when we first analyzed these gamma signals five sectars ago."
   Commander and Colonel, Sheba thought to herself.  If he's suddenly
getting formal with us, that means something's wrong.
   "What are you talking about, Boomer?" Apollo's tone took on an edge
of quiet demand.
   Boomer looked them in the eye, "Commander, I said at the time that I
couldn't make a preliminary guess on the time origin of these signals. 
Only that it was possible that we were looking at either an amplified
harmonic signal from nearby or a weak primary signal from a long way
off."
   "I know that," Apollo said, "And that if the latter were true, we'd
have to consider a signal that was...." he trailed off as he finally
added things up.
   "Something as old as a thousand yahrens ago," Sheba finished for
him.
   "Exactly," Boomer nodded, "And the reason why I didn't commit myself
was because once we learned in the next batch of signals that this
first one was connected with Earth, I didn't want to start raising
undue expectations about what kind of planet we'd find.  If Earth
possessed deep-space flight capability a thousand yaherns ago, then
simple logic would make us think that the Earth we end up finding has a
technology not dissimilar from our own."
   Apollo sat down in the chair next to Boomer's at the console.
   "Let me see if I get this straight," the commander said, "You in
fact believe that this initial signal was not an harmonic one."
   "That's right," Boomer nodded, "I believe it is intergalactic.  I
believe that it journeyed on a distant arc back towards us and the
Earth, and not away from it towards us."
   "You're sure of that," Sheba said more as statement than question.
   "I'm sure," the ex-warrior sighed, "Fairfax and Jobe concurred with
me.  And they also concurred that it was best we not emphasize that
aspect until we started getting signals that were closer and indicated
what we'd be up against with the present day Earth."
   Apollo stared at his friend with an expression that indicated he was
deeply disappointed.
   "You should have told us that, Boomer," Sheba decided to speak for
them both, "If you knew for certain that the initial signal was
intergalactic, you at least owed it to us, if not the rest of the
people."
   "I take full responsibility for that," Boomer said with regret.
   "We'll save the recriminations, if any, for another time," Apollo
tried not to show any anger, "But let's fit this information into the
context of what we know now.  Fact.  Earth had spaceflight capability a
thousand yahrens ago.  Fact.  Earth still has some kind of similar
spaceflight capability today, yet strangely enough gives off no signs
of technological development on our preliminary scans.  What does all
of that indicate?"
   Boomer took a breath, "It indicates the strangest puzzle I've ever
come across in my life, for which I have no credible answer at this
centon."
   "Colonel Sheba?" Apollo looked over at his wife, indicating that he
wanted her professional judgment.
   The executive officer lowered her head slightly as if to hide her
feelings of unease.  She then looked back and resumed her bearing,
"Boomer, can you play back the portions of the recording that confirmed
this first spacecraft was connected with Earth?"
   "Sure," the Electronics Scientist nodded, "Why?"
   "I just want to settle one lingering question about whether or not
these spacecraft are from Earth, or merely headed to Earth."  Sheba
said, "Because if the latter prospect is true, then we have to go ahead
with the primitive Earth contingency."
   "Sheba---" Apollo mildly protested, but his wife held up a hand.
   "Apollo, I think we've all been very premature in assuming that no
other outposts of humanity other than Terra exist in the known
universe.  What if these ships were just expeditionary probes from
another human civilization altogether, and that they have no connection
with the Earth as it is now?"
   Her husband looked her in the eye for a long moment and then nodded. 
"Okay Boomer, play that second tape."
   The ex-warrior pulled out the disc in the first machine and inserted
a second one.  Several microns later, another fuzzy, static-filled
image filled the screen.  It was clearly the image of a relatively
handsome human male smoking what resembled a fumarello cigar.
   "And that----report-------the Earth has-------since we left
it----While we've--------at all," the man was saying amidst a barrage
of indecipherable static that obscured half his words.
   "There, you hear that?" Boomer said as he stopped the recording and
froze the image, "Since we left Earth.  He's referring to himself and
to this particular spacecraft.  That's the transmission of an Earth
explorer, not an Earth colonist."
   Sheba looked thoughtfully at the image and nodded, "I see what you
mean," she paused and then said, "Could you play the rest of that?"
   "Sure," Boomer hit the switch and the distant voice from the past
resumed his garbled, static-filled monologue.
   "I leave----20th----regrets-------------I------Does
man----neighbor---------Does-------"
   Suddenly, the image of the human male seemed to clear up for just a
brief instant.  His face seemed to have a sad, longing quality to it.
   "I feel lonely," his final words came through equally clear.
   And then, the transmission abruptly ceased.
   There was no further comment from any of the three people gathered
on the bridge's upper level.  It was as if the forlorn quality of the
man's words had struck a chord deep inside with them.  Something that
they conceivably relate to themselves.
   Apollo rose and went over to the railing, where he looked down at
Omega, "Any word from our patrol?"
   "None sir," the veteran bridge officer shook his head.
   The commander let out a grim exhale and began to absently drum his
fingers on the railing.
   "Apollo?" he heard Sheba's voice as she came over and put a hand on
his shoulder.  "Apollo, how long do we wait before we send out another
team to look for them?"
   Her husband didn't turn around, "I don't know yet," he said, "When
there's so much we don't know about Earth at this point, there's no
telling what it is they're going through.  I might have to....." he
trailed off.
   "Have to what?" she asked.
   Apollo didn't answer at first.  He seemed to be a maze of
conflicting emotions as he leaned over the rail and called down to the
Senior Bridge Officer again, "Omega, are we still tracking the Earth
spacecraft they encountered?"
   "Affirmative."
   "Keep monitoring them.  Don't lose your fix on them."
   Sheba lifted an eyebrow, "You're thinking of contacting them?"
   "I might have to," Apollo admitted, "At this point, they're the only
definite thing about Earth we could directly contact.  If we don't hear
from our patrol soon, we might need their help if we're going to send
out another team." he then let out a sigh, "For the first time, I'm
beginning to understand what I kept putting my father through on all
those missions I was overdue from."
   Sheba tried not to bite her lip.  She had been a churning mass of
tension inside for several centars now, and the last thing she wanted
to do was allow any of it to show.
   "You know how Starbuck is," she tried to sound bright, "And as far
as our children go, we shouldn't have a thing to worry about.  After
all," she smiled, "They had the best possible teachers in you and me."
   Her husband nodded as they both collected themselves and went back
to their respective consoles on the upper level.  For now, their duties
as commander and executive officer took precedence over their feelings
as concerned parents.


   Far behind the rear echelon of the Galactica's Fleet of 204 ships, a
routine patrol of four vipers from Green Squadron was searching the
quadrant the Fleet had traversed within the last sectan.  Long ago,
Apollo had realized that the deeper the Galactica penetrated into
unknown, uncharted regions of space the less likely it became that they
would find traces of their determined enemy, the Cylon Empire lying
ahead of them.  If any danger was to come from the Cylons, it would be
because they were following their wake, and would strike from behind. 
As a result, rear guard patrols had now become just as important as
advance patrols were.  In many ways, even more so.
   "Green Leader, this is Green Three.  Completing quadrant
alpha-six-two sector scan.  Situation, all clear."
   "Copy Green Three," Captain Jolly said with customary nonchalantness
as he flicked several switches on his computer terminal that blocked
out the area Green Three had just searched on his star chart.  Only two
more quadrants remained before the patrol would be considered finished.
   And when we get back, Jolly thought to himself, a nice long,
soothing session in the Rising Star's Aquacade.  He'd been saving up
his passes for the luxury ship for a long time, so he'd be able to
enjoy their swimming facility on a day after the longest patrol session
he planned on putting in.
   In his younger days, a return from patrol would usually mean a quick
visit to the Officers Club or Mess Hall to indulge in the large
quantities of food and drink that had lent him his rotund physique. 
But now, Jolly barely resembled the person who'd taken so much needling
about his weight ever since he was a child.  As he'd gotten older, he'd
found that the best way to guarantee staying on active duty as a strike
commander was to start changing his eating and exercise habits.  And
so, he had undergone a rigorous weight-loss campaign that had succeeded
in getting him all the way down to a trim, muscular 210 after many
yahrens of hovering closer to the 300 level.
   "What are we going to have to make fun of you about anymore?"
Starbuck had quipped when his fellow-survivor of the Umbra disaster had
started his reduction campaign.  And many of his other long-time
friends like Boomer and Apollo had taken up betting pools on how many
sectans it would take before Jolly gave up on it.  But as of now, Jolly
had to their amazement stuck to it and kept the weight off.
   "Green Two to Green Leader," Sergeant Hale reported, "Am initiating
search sequence of delta two-one quadrant."
   "Okay," Jolly said as he made a notation, "That just leaves epsilon
four-one, and we'll be finished for today.  Sandlin, you get moving
over there."
   "Affirmative, Green Leader," Green Three said as his viper peeled
off in that direction.
   Two centons later, Jolly's analysis of his computer chart was
shattered by the sound of several loud blips emerging on the far left
of the screen.
   "What the---" he muttered and then quickly readjusted his system so
he could concentrate on scanning the blips.
   A micron later, his face dropped slightly when he saw that the blips
were Cylon fighters.
   "Oh great," he muttered and hit his switch, "Green Two, Green Three,
get back to my sector immediately.  We've got ourselves a Cylon patrol
to take care of."
   As Jolly activated his turbo and attack computer, he already knew
that his appointment for the Aquacade had just been canceled.


   Twenty centons later, the danger had been taken care of and Jolly
was headed back to the Galactica to make his report.
   "There were six in all.  Nothing more than a routine scout patrol,
from the looks of it," the veteran warrior radioed, "We didn't have any
trouble taking care of them, but I think it's a safe bet that their
baseships aren't too far off."
   Apollo grimly shook his head as he sat in his command chair holding
his fingertips together.
   "Okay Jolly," he sighed, "Thanks for the information."
   He switched off the transmission and warily got to his feet.
   "Of all the days for the Cylons to show themselves for the first
time in a yahren," the commander said with faint exasperation.
   "It does complicate things," Sheba admitted, "Do you think we should
have a strategy session in the Conference Chamber?"
   Her husband nodded as he headed for the stairs, "Might not be a bad
idea.  Have all the senior warriors report there in one centar."
   "Yes sir," Sheba said.
   As Apollo descended the steps to the lower level of the bridge, he
felt the inner urge to explode with fury at John and all of the
Guardians.


   A centar later, Apollo and Sheba had taken their positions at the
head of the table in the main Conference Chamber.  Strategy Sessions
always required the presence of the Fleet Commander, the Executive
Officer, and all Viper Squadron Leaders.  On this occasion though, one
chair was left empty to denote the absence of Blue Leader.
   "I think it would be an understatement for me to say that we are
facing the most important challenge we've confronted in the entire
history of our journey across the galaxy," Apollo said after he had
called the meeting to order, "The decisions we end up making at this
meeting could have the most important ramifications in the lives of
every man, woman and child in the Fleet."
   He settled back in his chair and motioned to Sheba to proceed.
   "There is no doubt among any of us that we have indeed discovered
the planet Earth," the executive officer began as she got to her feet
and pointed to the telemetry images on the central monitor, "But at
this time, we are receiving very conflicting signals as to what kind of
society we are dealing with.  Preliminary scans indicated no signs of
technology but there is nonetheless an interstellar spacecraft of Earth
origin due to land in sixteen centars on the planet."
   Sheba moved away from the monitor and her expression grew slightly
grave, "Blue Squadron patrol, under Captain Starbuck, Lieutenant Boxey
and Ensign Hera was sent ahead to make a quick survey of the planet
from the ground.  There has been no contact with them since before they
landed.  Their delay has reached a point where sending out a search
team has become imperative, but is now complicated by the fact that the
Cylons chose to make their presence known today."
   "How is it complicated, Colonel?" Captain Cree, the commander of Red
Squadron spoke up, "As far as the Cylons are concerned, we know that
they're just playing a mind game with us.  They show themselves every
so often just to remind us they're still there."
   "That's quite true Captain," Sheba said, "But today is not the day
that we can just assume that the Cylons are operating according to a
predictable pattern.  If they showed themselves today, we have to guard
against the prospect that they could come back today or tomorrow.  If
they don't within the next sectan, then we know they were playing a
mind game with us again."
   "So in effect, that means you can't send any of us out on a search
mission for Blue Group for at least a sectan?" this came from Jolly.
   "I'm afraid it does," Sheba nodded, "What's more, it means we have
to alter the Fleet's course away from the approach heading to Earth and
start going about in a random pattern.  Even though we have not
received any short-range transmissions from Earth, we can not allow the
Cylons to come within close proximity to the solar system."
   "The question then becomes, how do we proceed with the survey of
Earth, and deal with the matter of our missing warriors under these
circumstances?" Apollo looked out at the four squadron leaders. 
"Because while I am committed to following standard procedure in
dealing with the Cylons, I am not going to have us sit on our astrums
for a whole sectan on matters as grave as these are.  So start sending
up some suggestions, gentlemen."
   The four squadron commanders exchanged glances with each other as
though each was waiting for someone else in the group to go first.
   Finally, Jolly decided to speak first, "Well Commander, if you're
ruling out having any of us go, then the logical alternative is having
a shuttle with a team of non-combat pilots lead the search."
   "Exactly," Apollo nodded, "And I've already decided that we have
some people capable of doing that.  The only question remaining is, if
there are no signs of any technology on that planet, should we take a
risk making contact with that spacecraft before it lands?"
   His words hung in the air, as again there seemed to be a reluctance
among the squadron commanders to speak first.
   Finally, Captain Pliny of Silver Spar decided to do it.  He was the
only squadron leader who had not been an active warrior at the time of
the Holocaust, and represented part of the emerging younger generation
of the warrior class.  "Commander, my recommendation is that we do make
contact.  If we're going to be effective in searching for Blue Patrol,
I think we have to make contact with some people who'd be inclined to
believe us and help us.  It might not be that easy finding people who'd
help us once our team was on the ground."
   "The crew of that spacecraft is still in hibernation, Pliny," Apollo
pointed out, "To make contact with them means potentially disrupting
their programmed mission and bringing harm to them."
   "Then the way to avoid that is to stay alongside them until they
land, and wait for them to come out," Pliny held his ground.
   "Commander, I think it's an absolute imperative that we make contact
with some Earth people right away.  The way things are shaping up now,
the one thing we don't have time for is a lengthy analysis trying to
figure out who the best targets are on Earth for us to contact."
   Apollo inwardly smiled, glad to see that a warrior who had not
served alongside him, had not been afraid to speak his mind.
   "Well said, Captain Pliny," the commander said, "Do the rest of you
think that's the best option for us?"
   "I think so," Jolly said, "Of course, I naturally wish that I could
go myself since we are talking about people like Starbuck, Hera and
Boxey."
   "I think the team I have in mind for this assignment will be more
than capable."


   After dismissing the squadron commanders, Apollo and Sheba had
assembled a new group in the Conference Chamber.  The four people
consisted of the Galactica's senior shuttle flight instructor, a
med-tech, and two warriors attached to Colonial Security, which handled
all matters of military security within the Fleet.
   Apollo had received glowing reports for many sectars about the two
security guards, Lieutenant Ares and Sergeant Bernabe from Captain
Castor, the long-time Security Chief, as to their toughness and quick
precision.  That was exactly the kind of warrior Apollo wanted for a
mission like this.
   The med-tech was Lycus, the senior most member of the Galactica's
Medical Staff Corps.  Assigning a med-tech for a mission such as this
was standard operating procedure, and like the two security guards,
Apollo had received plenty of outstanding reports on his competence.
   Picking the leader for the expedition had not been as easy.
Especially in light of the personal anguish he already faced over the
disappearance of his two children and best friend.  But there was no
escaping the fact that Athena was by far, the best qualified person for
the job.  She had more experience than anyone else as a shuttle pilot,
and also had her share of combat experience as a reserve viper pilot. 
And her many yahrens on the Bridge had also taught her a great deal
about command level decisions, which were desperately needed for an
assignment such as this.
   Apollo had come very close to making Athena the Galactica's new
executive officer after Colonel Tigh had retired four yahrens ago due
to ill health, which eventually took his life one yahren afterwards. 
It had come down to the awkward dilemma of choosing between his sister
and his wife as the most qualified candidates.  To his relief, Athena
had made the decision easy for him by taking herself out of the
running.  His sister knew that Sheba held the edge as a combat veteran
and combat tactician.  Instead, she had accepted a new assignment away
from the Galactica as deputy commander of the Warrior Training School,
where she specialized in training new warriors to fly shuttles.  It
turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to her.  Away
from the Galactica, she'd finally been able to branch out in her life
in ways that she hadn't for almost twenty yahrens, ever since the
unpleasant end of her relationship with Starbuck.  She had finally
opened herself up to new friends, and had even begun a serious romance
with the captain of the Training School Ship, an ex-viper pilot named
Amos.  Rumor had it that marriage was not an unlikely prospect some
day.  Apollo sincerely hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
   None of that was on his mind now though, as he and Sheba briefed the
four of them on the situation.
   "That sums it up as best as I can," the commander said, "As
concerned as we all are about what's happened to our warriors, your
first responsibility is gathering data on Earth.  We need that
information if we're going to be able to put a contingency plan into
effect."
   He and Sheba both rose from their chairs, indicating that the
briefing was nearly over.
   "Major Athena, you are in overall command of this mission.  Use your
best judgment, and may the Lords of Kobol be with you all."
   Athena got to her feet, and with the most professional look her
brother could ever recall seeing on her face, said, "We intend to
succeed, Commander."
   "I have every confidence in you," he smiled, "All of you report to
the launching bay immediately."
   The two security guards and the med-tech were first to depart. 
Apollo prepared to follow Sheba out, but then saw that Athena was
remaining in the room, as though there was something she wanted to say
to her brother in private.
   "Is there anything else?" he asked.
   "There is," Athena folded her arms, "I want Lycus replaced."
   Apollo lifted an eyebrow, "What?"
   "I said I don't want Lycus on this team," she said.
   "Why not?" Apollo didn't understand why she sounded so determined on
this point.
   "Because there's someone else who deserves to go instead," she said
firmly, "And that's Cassiopeia."
   Her brother's dubious expression increased, "Athena, Cassiopeia is
the Chief Medical Officer.  I can't spare her."
   "And she's also Starbuck's ex-wife," Athena said pointedly, "When
she finds out he's missing, she's going to have a tough enough time as
it is sticking to her regular duties.  If she goes with us, then she at
least can be on top of the search." she paused, "And besides, she's had
experience with these kinds of missions before.  Lycus hasn't."
   "Athena---"
   "Don't argue with me, Apollo," she said, "I've deferred to you quite
a few times in my life over the yahrens.  If you want me to command
this mission, I want the person I think is best for the job.  That's
Cassiopeia.  If she's involved in the search for Starbuck, her mind is
going to be a lot more at ease than it would be if she were here on the
Galactica."
   Apollo shook his head in faint exasperation, "All right, all right,"
he said, "Take whoever you want.  But if she refuses to go, then don't
force her."
   "Fair enough," Athena nodded, "I'll notify you when we're ready for
launch."
   When she had gone, Apollo shook his head in both amazement and
admiration.
   That's the new Athena all right, he thought.  She may still end up
commanding this ship yet.
   Starbuck, Hera, Boxey, Athena, Cassiopeia.  It now occurred to him
that just about every important person in his life other than Sheba was
now involved with this entire puzzle surrounding the discovery of
Earth.  And with it, were risks that potentially put all of their lives
in danger.
   Lord help them all, he thought as he finally exited the Conference
Chamber and headed back to the bridge.

    
   There were times when Lucifer cursed the fact that as an IL Cylon,
he possessed a second computer brain that enabled him to experience
many of the feelings and sensations human beings knew.  Chief among
them, was the feeling of boredom.  Single-brained centurions were
totally incapable of knowing boredom since they were just programmed to
do their jobs with robotic, mindless efficiency.  Their circuits could
not be bothered by the prospect of spending many long yahrens sitting
at duty stations while nothing happened.  Not so with Lucifer.  For
what had seemed like an eternity to him, his second brain was raging
over the sense of total atrophy that had set in.
   He could have looked upon the events of today as a welcome diversion
from the routine stagnation that filled his life, but as far as Lucifer
was concerned it was simply part of the same old pattern where nothing
meaningful was accomplished.
   And now, he was about to perform the chore that for twenty-five
yahrens he had detested above all others.
   "By your command."
   The throne chair turned around and Baltar looked down at him with a
thoroughly neutral and indifferent expression, "Speak."
   If the infamous human traitor were still a normal human who went
through the aging process, the sight of him growing older with each
passing yahren would have been an entertaining diversion to the IL
Cylon.  No longer.  In the twenty yahrens since Baltar's rescue from
the isolated planet Adama had set him free on, the one-time Count from
Piscera had become more Cylon than human.  So obsessed was Baltar with
living to achieve the goal of one day destroying the Galactica, that he
had gradually replaced numerous parts of his body with cybernetic
counterparts in an effort to conceivably prolong his life for hundreds
of yahrens.  He was prepared to wait that long if it meant that he
alone, could know the glory of destroying the last traces of human
civilization that had fled the Colonies following the Destruction that
he himself had been partly responsible for.  And with that, he wanted
also to destroy the last remaining human colony.  The Thirteenth tribe
of humanity on the planet Earth that Adama had been seeking all these
yahrens.
   There was once a time when Baltar thought that Earth was but a mere
fable invented long ago by drunken space travelers who had come back to
die on the mother planet Kobol.  Not so any longer. 
   During the yahren when he had been Adama's prisoner aboard the
Fleet's Prison Barge, he had heard all kinds of talk that made him
realize there had to be a basis for its existence.  Especially when he
saw the Fleet encounter another outpost of humanity based in some
planet called Terra.
   Once Baltar had convinced himself that Earth indeed did exist, a
raging desire to destroy that lost colony had filled what was left of
his twisted mind and soul.  For he saw Earth and Adama's obsession with
finding it as the reason why he had been forced to become a permanent
outcast from his own race.
   When Baltar realized that his betrayal of humanity at the phony
Peace Conference he had engineered had not resulted in the Imperious
Leader sparing his own colony of Piscera, he had vowed to find some way
of getting back in favor with his own race and launching a
counterstrike against the Cylon Empire to make them pay for their
double-cross.  That opportunity had come for him in a darkened tomb of
the Ninth Lord of Kobol where Adama had come to find information on
where Earth's position lay.  Baltar had presented his offer of taking
advantage of the dispersal of the Cylon Fleet to strike back against
the undefended home planet.  He had even made a gesture of goodwill in
having Lieutenant Starbuck released from captivity aboard his baseship.
   But to Baltar's shock and bewilderment, Adama had rejected the
offer.  Having served alongside Baltar in the Council of Twelve, and
having seen firsthand the fruits of Baltar's betrayal, he refused to
ever trust him again.  Instead, Baltar saw a man obsessed with only one
thing.  Finding the lost thirteenth tribe of humanity that had settled
on the distant blue planet Earth.
   Baltar had never anticipated such a cold rejection, especially for a
reason that he saw as utterly frivolous and trivial.  He had tried to
argue with Adama, but the Galactica commander would not listen.  All of
Baltar's appeals to what he thought was sensible reason went unheeded. 
Adama's son Captain Apollo seemed willing to hear Baltar out at one
point, but the intense passion of Adama's desire to seek out Earth
overruled any other considerations.
   And then, all of Baltar's plans went awry forever when Lucifer had
taken matters into his own hands by launching an attack on the
Galactica base camp on Kobol that had trapped Baltar inside the
wreckage of the tomb.  During the long centars that he'd laid there in
that dark, crumbling crypt, what was left of his own humanity vanished
forever.  The cold realization that he would never be able to make
amends for the sin of aiding the Cylons in the destruction of the
Colonies.  Never able to make the Cylons pay for their double-cross in
destroying his colony.  His people.  His family.  His wife Ayesha, who
had fueled his drive for power and who he'd planned on making his queen
in a puppet colony under his total control.
   If he was to survive, he had to become genuinely committed to the
Cylon goal of destroying humanity.  He knew he had become evil in every
sense of the word, and he hated Adama and his obsession with Earth
above all other things for forcing him into that position.
   And so, here he was twenty-five yahrens later, determined to live
long enough that he might be able to destroy the twin instruments of
his Fate.  And because he would not settle for anything short of
destroying the Fleet and Earth, he had no intention of rushing too soon
with the destruction of the former.
   And that was why Lucifer's impatience and boredom mounted with each
passing day.
   "I have news to report that is not good," Lucifer said, "Our scout
patrol was destroyed by a similar one from the Galactica."
   Baltar let out that wicked laugh of his that always increased the IL
Cylon's dislike of him, "My dear Lucifer, there is nothing to be so
long about.  The loss of one tiny patrol is hardly anything to be
concerned with.  What is important is that we have once again given the
Galactica a reminder that we are still out there.  And that is all we
need to do every nine sectars to a yahren.  Just remind them that we
are there, pursuing them constantly just beyond range for as long as
they continue to seek their worthless refuge on the planet they call
'Earth.'"
   "Baltar, it would perhaps be futile of me to point out once
again----"
   "Any recommendation you make is always futile, my dear Lucifer,"
Baltar taunted.  He relished the fact that the roles were completely
reversed from what they'd been yahrens ago when it had been Lucifer who
would frequently puncture his ego with constant asides and putdowns. 
He knew that there was a part of Lucifer's circuitry that had never
recovered from the shock of seeing Baltar rescued and returned to power
twenty yahrens earlier.  It had brought an immediate demotion for the
IL Cylon, which rankled him beyond measure.  For Lucifer had always
wanted Baltar out of the way so he might have his own command, and be
in position to one day become the Imperious Leader himself.  Now, that
dream had been snatched from him, and with Baltar's gradual
transformation into a half-human, half-Cylon cyborg, Lucifer had to
face the fact that his status as a subordinate would conceivably last
an eternity.
   "Baltar, we have the capacity to destroy the Colonial Fleet right
now," Lucifer pressed on, "The longer we trail them into the depths of
space, so far from our home planet and so far from the outposts of our
Empire, the more wasteful this pursuit becomes."
   "Our pursuit will continue until the Galactica finds the planet
Earth, and not before," the traitor's tone was matter-of-fact, "The
edict of the Imperious Leader is that Cylon dominion will not be secure
until all traces of the human race are exterminated.  That edict
therefore includes the lost human colony.  And the only ones who can
lead us to Earth, are the pitiful scum we now pursue."
   He then smirked at the IL Cylon, "But you've heard me say that
before, haven't you Lucifer?"
   All too often, Lucifer said to himself with disgust.
   "At any rate, the patrol's discovery of Colonial vipers gives us
fresher information on the Galactica's most recent movements," the
traitor went on, "Have our course plot adjusted accordingly."
   "By your command," Lucifer didn't even bother to conceal the sarcasm
as he turned and departed.  He knew that Baltar was past the point of
being infuriated by it.
   As the chamber doors closed, Baltar let out a satisfied laugh and
resumed his posture of intense contemplation.
   He knew that the man he hated most, Adama, was in all likelihood
dead by this point.  But he had every intention of defeating him in
death by destroying his legacy and his dream.  And he was prepared to
wait for that opportunity even if it meant replacing every part of his
body to insure that he'd be around for when that moment finally came.

                    Chapter Four

   The anger and bitterness inside Zira had quickly been replaced by
puzzlement as she and Cornelius followed Dr. Zaius out of the Tribunal
Room to the Chief Scientist's office, located at the other end of the
building.  Wondering what it was the elderly orangutan had meant by
promising to reveal something that no other ape had seen before.
   When they entered the medium-sized room, Dr. Zaius quickly turned to
Cornelius and gave the archeologist a firm command, "Close the door. 
It is imperative that no one hear us."
   Cornelius went over and pushed the six-inch thick wooded door shut.
   "The barrier too," Dr. Zaius said with the same firmness, "I don't
want sudden interruptions either."
   The chimpanzee's frown deepened as he slid the heavy wooden bolt
across the main frame of the door and pushed it into place.  The three
of them were now completely locked in.
   "What I am about to do, constitutes a violation of the oath I took
when I became Chief Defender of the Faith, thirty years ago," Zaius
went over to the far corner of the room, near his desk, where a
medium-sized bulge in the building's rock foundation protruded.  But to
the amazement of the two chimpanzees, the Chief Scientist knelt down
and pushed it aside revealing it to be a medium-sized boulder that
concealed a recessed area in the wall.  Zaius then pulled out a key
from his tunic and inserted it inside.
   Some kind of vault, Cornelius realized.  But to conceal what?
   As soon as they heard the clicks of the locks coming undone, the
Chief Scientist then pulled out more than a dozen scrolls and
parchments which he then deposited on his desk.
   "Behold," he said as he sat down in his chair, "The Unknown Scrolls. 
Testimonies of the Lawgiver that were never meant to be seen by any ape
other than the Chief Defenders of the Faith.  On the day that a new
Defender ascends, he reads them once and then returns them to their
sealed place."
   Zira's eyes bulged in amazement, as did those of her husband.
   "What do they say?" the psychologist asked.
   The elderly orangutan smiled wryly, "Much.  A good deal in fact,
about Man and what he really is."
   Cornelius's hairy brow furrowed, "They tell everything about the
civilization in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Quite true, Cornelius," Dr. Zaius nodded, "They tell of how that
civilization came to be, and how it fell.  How Man's barbarism made
what had been a Paradise into a wasteland.  And why God in His anger,
turned His back on Man and gave dominion over this planet to us, the
Apes.  All of this the Lawgiver knew and wrote about."
   "But why conceal these Scrolls from our people?" Cornelius
protested, "Surely it is knowledge that we can prosper from.  A
reminder of how we must never repeat the same mistakes Man made in our
own civilization!"
   "We are not ready for that, Cornelius," the Chief Scientist looked
him in the eye, "Not unless you desire seeing our society plunged into
a foolish, costly war of conquest."
   "What do you mean?" all of Zira's anger was gone now.  Bewilderment
raged through her mind at how Dr. Zaius had completely dropped the
facade he had put on all throughout Taylor's captivity.
   Zaius folded his hands together and let out a grim chuckle, "If
there is surely one thing that chimpanzees and orangutans can agree on,
it is that our brothers the gorillas are vastly inferior to us in terms
of intelligence, and are driven chiefly by their brute instincts for
sport and violence.  Nowhere is there a finer example of that in
General Ursus."
   "Quite true," Zira nodded her head vigorously.  "The things that
gorillas do to humans.  Shooting them, whipping them and abusing them
as experiments in military training exercises.  All so they can be
given the vanities of military titles and decorations.  It's
revolting!"
   "But it keeps them productive."  Dr. Zaius said, "And being prepared
for war is the only productive function a gorilla has.  Try to pacify
them by taking their toys away, and you only ask for trouble."
   He then leaned forward, "But if a situation arose where war became
likely, who would suddenly be in a position to usurp control of our
society?  The gorillas.  The stratified order would be turned
completely upside-down and they would dictate control over what the
energies of Ape Civilization should be devoted towards.  And it would
soon overtake us all.  Surely you do not desire to see such a fate
befall us."
   "Certainly not!" Zira said, feeling glad that Zaius was allowing her
to express some anger over a subject they could both agree on.
   "Then maybe now you will understand why I and my predecessors have
kept the Unknown Scrolls hidden.  And maybe now you will understand why
I acted as I did with regard to Taylor."
   Cornelius was frowning, "I'm afraid I don't understand, Dr. Zaius."
   "You don't?" the Chief Scientist was slightly amazed.  "You
disappoint me, Cornelius.  I have given you and your wife information
that makes it abundantly clear that I am not as corrupt as you've
thought me."
   "Forgive us both, if we are not impressed!" for the first time, the
anger with Dr. Zaius had returned to Zira's voice.
   Dr. Zaius calmly gathered the scrolls on his desk and returned them
to the recessed vault in the wall.  Once they were in place, he locked
it and pushed the boulder back into place.
   "If a great human civilization once existed before the time of the
Lawgiver, then the existence of Taylor means that there are others like
him as well, today," the Chief Scientist drew himself up to an erect
bearing.  "And if I were forced to tell our people the truth about Man
and that Taylor is not some scientific freak but a descendant of that
destroyed civilization, then what do you suppose the gorillas would
then have us do?"
   A slow dawning of understanding came over the male chimpanzee's
face.
   "Yes," Cornelius slowly nodded, "Yes, I'm beginning to understand
what you mean, Dr. Zaius.  I don't agree with your reasoning, but I
understand it."
   Zira gave her husband a bewildered glance, "You understand?
Cornelius----"
   "Silence," the archeologist held up a hand, not wanting to hear her
protests any longer, "Very well Dr. Zaius, you have explained things
openly to us, and I suppose that's more than we could have expected. 
I'm willing to consider this matter closed."
   "I'm glad of that," the orangutan smiled, "Zira, you'd be
well-advised to listen to your husband's counsel as often as you can."
   Zira wrinkled her muzzle at him in disgust but managed to hold her
tongue.
   When the two chimpanzees had finally departed, the Chief Scientist
leaned back in his chair and let out a thoroughly satisfied grunt.
   For now, he was convinced that he had safely avoided a potential
catastrophe for Ape Civilization, and that all things could resume to
the state of normalcy that had existed before the emergence of Taylor.
   And God willing, he'd never see Taylor's kind again.


   Starbuck had no idea how long he had known the blackness of
unconsciousness.  He could recall being dragged across the maize field
caught in the net the two siminoids had thrown over him, and then his
head had banged against a rock in the field.  And then there was
nothing at all.
   But now, the blackness was slowly lifting and the first sensation he
knew was the intense pain.  His head was pounding massively from what
he knew was a concussion.  He could also feel the searing pain of the
two wounds in his right shoulder from the numo shots.
   He could tell he was still trapped inside the net as his body was
scrunched up in an awkward, tangled position that brushed against the
thick rope barriers.  He could also tell that he was being moved as he
felt the sensation of lying on some kind of trailer device.
   ".....But when Dr. Zaius sees what we have, he'll have a lot of
explaining to do!" he could hear an angry voice coming from somewhere
ahead of him.  "He said that bright-eyed one who went on a rampage in
the city was just a corrupted scientific experiment.  But he can't
explain this one and his two missing friends as some corrupted
experiment."
   Trying to block the agony of the pain searing through his body from
his mind, Starbuck pieced together the meaning of what the voice had
said.  It could only mean that wherever Hera and Boxey were, they
hadn't been captured.
   And if he hadn't been such a damned fool and tried to act like a
bold hero with all those siminoids charging down on him, maybe he would
have been lucky too.  Now here he was, being dragged into captivity by
the most repulsive kind of creature he could imagine, other than a
Cylon.
   Cassie, you were right, he thought to himself.  I am too old for
this line of work.  No wonder you divorced me.
   It had taken five yahrens for Starbuck to summon the courage to ask
Cassiopeia to become his wife.  Seeing the happiness Apollo and Sheba
were going through as a married couple had finally rubbed off on him to
the point where he wanted to experience that same happiness for
himself.  And for the first ten yahrens of their marriage, there had
been nothing but happiness for Starbuck and Cassiopeia.
   But then the quarreling had began.  It had started over whether or
not they would have any children.  Cassiopeia was willing to do so,
only if Starbuck took himself off active duty because she didn't want
to run the risk of seeing a child of theirs grow up without a father. 
And that was something Starbuck had no intention of doing.
   Over time, it had become clear to Starbuck that the tolerance
Cassiopeia had shown for his eccentricities as a warrior when they had
merely been lovers, had virtually disappeared now that they were
married.  From her perspective, Starbuck needed to show more
responsibility in his life if she was going to make the sacrifice of
giving up her own career in the Medical Corps to raise a family.  And
as far as Cassiopeia was concerned, Starbuck showed no signs of willing
to do that.
   Finally, five yahrens ago the marriage that had started out with so
much hope and joy for Starbuck and Cassiopeia came to an end, with a
formal dissolution.  The two of them had both known for a long time
that there was no point in continuing but had waited until after the
death of Commander Adama, since they had not wanted to place a burden
of pain on him while he lay on his deathbed.
   For two yahrens, they had no contact with each other.  Only in the
last yahren, had they finally gotten around to speaking to each other
again on official matters with no difficulty.  Time at least, was
beginning to heal the old wounds and Starbuck held out hope that the
two of them would eventually become friends again.
   But whether he was going to have any more time to do that, was fast
becoming an open question.
   He finally managed to open his eyes, and through the prison of the
net could see that he was lying inside the back of a trailer.  Steel
bars at the rear indicated that it was used as a cage.  The way it
moved over the dirt surface indicated that it was being pulled by at
least two equines.
   "What do you suppose those fire guns are?" another voice spoke. 
"I've never seen anything like them before."
   "We'll figure them out soon enough," the gruff voice said, "We
already know that they're no good against superior forces at least."
   Wait until they send in a whole rescue team to take you fracking
snitrods out, Starbuck gritted his teeth.  You'll be sorry then. 
   For now, he couldn't think of any other way that he was going to get
himself out of this situation.  He was badly wounded and on his way to
some kind of jail cell.  At this point, it would be a virtual miracle
if his wounds were treated, let alone seeing himself rescued.
   Just like Atilla, he thought.  Only this time, he didn't know if
Earth possessed any counterparts to Kyle and Miri sweeping down to
rescue and heal him.
   And then, the horrifying reminder that he was on the planet that had
been the object of all his people's hopes and dreams for twenty five
yahrens hit him with the force of all the pain in his body.  And that
only served to magnify the sense of helplessness going through him.
   One thing at a time, he chided himself.  First thing is to get
yourself through this ordeal and then worry about Earth later.
   He could hear a fair amount of talking, grunting and shouting as the
trailer continued bumping over the uneven dirt road.  Starbuck managed
to crawl his way over to the back of the vehicle and could see the area
they were now passing.  His mouth fell open in horror when he saw what
looked like a military training camp.  Dozens of gorillas were busily
at work conducting combat exercises.  And all of them were using live
humans for target practice.
   A fracking nightmare, he thought.  An absolute fracking nightmare.
   To his relief, the trailer did not stop at the facility but
proceeded on.  Starbuck could now see them passing numerous siminoids
standing and walking along the road.  He could tell that most of these
were not of the gorilla class, but belonged to the more docile group
called chimpanzees.  Even so, he found them only slightly less ugly
than his captors.  As far as he was concerned, all siminoids were
fundamentally alike in terms of their brutal nature.
   He could now see the stone buildings of what looked like a primitive
city.  Far more primitive than the most ancient archeological sites
Starbuck could remember visiting in the Colonies.  There was no sense
of architecture or artistic design at all in any of the buildings.  It
seemed more like the buildings had been crudely carved out of ancient
rock formations that had existed in the community in a haphazard,
rounded fashion.
   Finally, the trailer came to a stop.  Starbuck forced himself into a
sitting position and waited for the driver to come round and unlock the
door.
   Several centons went by and no one came.  The grizzled warrior now
felt his pain being superseded by his impatience.  The sooner he got a
handle of what these siminoids planned to do with him, the better.
   He noticed two siminoids approaching the back end, peering inside at
him in amazement.  He couldn't tell whether they were chimpanzees or
gorillas at this point.  All he became aware of was the sensation of
his concussion intensifying.  His head was slowly starting to spin
again.
   "Look at that, Zola," one of them, a female, was saying, "Have you
ever seen an uglier human than that one?"
   "Sure dresses funny," the other one, clearly male, noted.
   He wanted to crawl forward and make a typically Starbuckian comment
to the siminoids, full of sarcasm and cockiness.  But he was fast
losing the fight to stay conscious.  Even so, he managed to inch his
forward until his face was right up against the bars, a mere foot away
from the curious siminoids on the other side.
   He opened his mouth and prepared to make his retort, but before he
had formed the first syllable, he'd collapsed into the blackness of
unconsciousness again.
   "Did you see that?" the male chimpanzee called Zola said, "It almost
looked like he was ready to talk."
   "Oh really dear, you must be imagining things," his wife laughed,
"You know that humans can't talk."
   "You're right," he laughed as they walked away, "I've probably been
working too hard."


   The beeping sound on Hera's micro-scanner grew louder as she went
deeper and deeper into the jungle.  She knew that the human contacts
she'd pinpointed were only mere metrones away, just through the next
barrier of foliage.
   She could hear the sounds of water rushing from the same area, and
felt a reminder of how thirsty she had become after her hurried flight
from the siminoids pursuit.  It caused her to quicken her step as she
shut off her scanner and drew out her laser pistol again.
   When Hera emerged on the other side of the foliage she saw a large
waterfall flowing from a tall green hill into a medium-sized lagoon. 
And in the water and along the banks were a large multitude of the
primitive humans.
   Frack, she thought.  Just more of those primitives.  A veritable
colony of them.
   Right away, she saw the eyes of several primitives lock on to her. 
What Hera saw right away was how frightened they seemed of her.  Two
females promptly treaded backwards in the water away from her.  The
thickly bearded males were glaring at her.
   "Uh, look," Hera said gently as she placed her pistol back in the
holster, "I don't mean you any harm.  I want to help you, if you could
just help me?"
   No sooner had Hera opened her mouth when a perceptible stir went up
among the primitives.  No sound came from their mouths, yet their
movements had the same signs Hera would have expected to see had she
heard a large rumbling sound emit from them.  As if it were some signal
for organizing together against an enemy.
   I think I just overstayed my welcome, the Galactica warrior thought
as she uneasily took a step back into the jungle.
   She had gone only ten feet when she heard the sounds of splashing,
followed by feet moving and brushing against the trees and bushes. 
Right away, she knew that some of the primitives had chosen to follow
her.
   Hera quickened her pace as she heard the rustling noise behind her
intensify.  After another centon, it finally reached a point where she
knew she had to take some action herself.   
   She stopped in her tracks, turned around and opened fire on the
approaching group of primitives, making sure that the setting remained
on heavy stun.  Several of them collapsed to the ground while the rest
began to wildly scatter about, frightened by the sudden red streak of
fire.  For now at least, they were no longer pursuing her.
   Hera slowly exhaled and caught her breath.  As much as she found the
idea of shooting at human beings distasteful, she knew she'd been left
with no alternative at this point.  Exchanging pursuit from the
siminoids for pursuit from the primitives amounted to absolutely
nothing.
   She made her way closer to the forest periphery that led back the
field.  She was still twenty feet short of it when she heard the
unmistakable sound of approaching equines.
   Frack, felgercarb and shit.
   Once again, she had to duck behind a tree to avoid being seen from
the field.  Once again, she had to go absolutely motionless to avoid
attracting the attention of the siminoid scouts.
   "We'll take the perimeter on the right, first," she heard one of
them say, "Then we'll check the left perimeter."
   That meant she was okay for now.  The siminoids were going to be
inspecting the forest on the opposite side of the field first.
   "A lot of humans congregate in this area, sir," another voice spoke,
"Will it be easy finding the one we want?  You know how all humans look
alike."
   "You heard General Ursus's report," the first one said, "The ones we
want dress like apes instead of humans.  They'll stick out like an
orangutan would in our ranks.  Now keep searching."
   She then heard the equines hoofbeats start up and slowly fade as
they moved away from her.
   The conversation she'd overheard had told her a lot.  And now, she
could form some definite ideas on what to do next.
   She began moving back towards the waterfall region.  This time, she
wanted to see if one primitive would emerge.  Specifically, one female.
   She could hear the rustling sounds and splashing indicating that
they were nearby.  Her eyes raced back and forth across every potential
spot where one of them might emerge.
   Suddenly, Hera felt something brush against her shoulder from
behind.  She spun around and found herself face to face with a six-foot
tall male primitive.  His black eyes were dead, lifeless orbs that
reminded Hera of the artificial eyes of the mechanical daggit Muffit
that she had once played with as a child.  His face was streaked with
dirt and mud, his long hair and beard thick and unkempt.  No sound came
from him, but there was a hostile glare in his expression that
immediately told Hera she had to act quickly.
   The Galactica warrior then summoned all of her hand-to-hand combat
training to the forefront.  In the blink of an eye, she drove her right
elbow into the primitive's solar plexus.  The primitive staggered
forward, bent at the waist and gasping for breath.  It astounded Hera
that he didn't even scream in pain.  She managed to step in back of him
and then slammed both her hands into the square of his back which
knocked him to the ground into total unconsciousness.
   No sooner had Hera finished him off then she heard more crashing
through the foliage.  This time, she saw a mud-smeared female with
brown hair that hung all the way to her waist emerge, her eyes darting
about in confusion.  As soon as she saw her, the blonde warrior
realized that this was the time to put her plan into effect.  Hera
moved off to the side so that she was parallel to the female.  If her
plan was going to work then she had to make absolutely certain that the
female didn't see her when she made her move.  If she did, then Hera
would have to guard against the possibility of being recognized later
on.
   She knew she could have solved that dilemma by killing the
primitive, but the idea of killing a human under any circumstances,
even one that acted more like an animal than human, was too repulsive a
thought for her to consider.  Her oath as a Colonial Warrior was to
protect the human race, and she had no intention of dishonoring that
oath, ever.
   And so, she kept herself hidden behind the tree, making certain that
the female was looking away from her.  And then, double-checking to
make sure the stun setting was still on, she opened fire and the
primitive fell to the ground.
   Hera dashed over to where she lay and wasted little time removing
the skimpy breast and loin coverings on the female's body.  They felt
like they'd been made from a combination of animal skins and tree-bark
material.  She held them up and wrinkled her nose when she realized
that they weren't in a particularly clean condition. 
   She knew it was going to be a degrading experience, but the only way
she could avoid being captured by the siminoids and to avoid being
attacked by the primitives was to turn herself into a primitive for
now.  In her uniform, she stood out like a beacon and would never get
any opportunity to get close to wherever it was that Starbuck was being
held prisoner now.  As one amongst the scores of primitives, she at
least had a chance, though she'd already seen firsthand how the
siminoids took pleasure in hunting them down.
   No matter, she thought as she threw off her jacket and quickly shed
the rest of her clothes.  For now, the siminoids were more concerned
with finding a human who dressed strangely and carried a powerful
weapon.  They wouldn't be as concerned with their usual hunting
activities for now.
   Hera donned the skimpy garments and immediately felt a wave of
self-consciousness hit her.  The only females she'd ever known to dress
as scantily as she was now, were the performers in the Skorpian dance
troupes that frequently played to packed audiences of men in the Rising
Star's Astral Lounge.
   Well, she thought with resignation as she neatly folded her uniform
into a pile, at least now I know what the guys feel like when they wear
those thongs on the triad court for the first time.  And then she
couldn't help but smirk as she realized that there were at least two
warriors she'd once dated who would have given their life's salaries to
see her dressed as she was now.
   Only in your dreams, fellows, she said to herself as she stuffed her
clothes into a small recessed crevice inside one of the trees. 
Hopefully they'd remain safely hidden here, so she could retrieve them
later.
   Reluctantly, Hera placed her holster containing her laser pistol and
scanner underneath the pile as well.  As much as she wanted to keep it
with her, she knew it wouldn't help her at all for now.  She'd have to
try and steal one of the siminoids' numos later on.
   The only thing she refused to part with was the ring.  To take it
off at this point would have been the supreme dishonor to her family. 
Instead, she smeared some dirt over her hands, hoping it would stay
concealed from view for now.  And then, to give herself a more
primitive appearance, she smeared some more dirt on her face, arms and
legs, and then mussed up her hair so it would appear disheveled.
   When she was done, she began to cautiously make her way back toward
the waterfall area, where most of the primitives were still gathered. 
She would have preferred to go immediately back toward the region she'd
escaped from, but her thirst was so great that she needed to refresh
herself first before she'd feel ready.
   She reached the edge of the perimeter that led to the waterfall and
lagoon.  When she emerged, she could see at least a dozen humans still
gathered in and around the water.  Several of them looked up when they
heard her enter, but as soon as they saw her they almost immediately
went back to what it was they'd been doing, whether it was thrashing
about in the lagoon or nibbling on a piece of fruit that had been
foraged.  None of them seemed to give her a second thought.
   Right away, Hera realized that none of the primitives had a
knowledge for faces, or else they might have recognized the person who
had frightened them mere centons ago.  Or if they did recognize her
face, they took no notice because she now looked like one of them.  She
strongly suspected the latter.  Before, they had seen someone dressed
in clothing that superficially resembled the clothing worn by their
oppressors, the siminoids.  And they had heard her speak words that
they might have recognized as belonging to the language of those same
oppressors.  For all she knew, they had probably seen her as one of
their allies.
   If this is what constitutes humanity as it exists on this planet,
then this is even worse than the worst-case scenario we've planned for. 
She knew that her father and mother had hammered out contingency plans
that dealt with different potentials for what Earth was like, but she
didn't think for a micron that dealing with humans who couldn't talk
and lived like animals had ever entered consideration.  These were
supposed to be descendants from the same mother planet her race had
come from!  How could they have regressed this far back into something
that no human had been like since the earliest days of when life had
began on the distant world of Kobol?
   Hera knelt along the bank and used her hands to help herself to the
beautifully clear water that flowed from the waterfall.  It tasted
better than anything she could recall in all the yahrens of growing up
on the Galactica where chemically treated, recycled liquids were the
norm.  She helped herself to another deep gulp and slowly felt some of
her weariness ease.
   So good did the water taste that she suddenly found the thought of
immersing herself completely to be very inviting.  She got to her feet
and slowly waded in until she was immersed up to her chest.  The water
was cold but incredibly relaxing.
   I'll need to cover myself with dirt again when I leave, she thought
as she waded about, not wanting to look conspicuous by going into a
careful swimming motion.  Instead, she kept her feet on the muddy
bottom of the lagoon and only used her hands for what they called the
'daggit stroke', the first thing children were taught to do when they
learned to swim in the Rising Star's Aquacade.  Wade about in the water
the way a daggit would move.
   She reached the far side of the lagoon where the waterfall cascaded
down on to a rock ledge five feet above the water's surface.  She
lifted herself up onto the ledge and then luxuriated in the gentle
touch of the waterfall rolling off her face and body.  It had a very
soothing effect.  So soothing that she felt the urge to let out a deep
sigh of pleasure, but remembered that would attract attention.  From
what she'd been able to see, these primitives were totally mute.  They
probably couldn't utter a single sound at all.
   She glanced about the lagoon and then noticed that one of the male
primitives was staring at her.  This was a young-looking primitive that
Hera would have guessed was in his twenties.  Like the others, his
brown hair and beard was thick and scraggly, but he seemed more
handsome than any of the other males she'd noticed.  And as Hera's
green eyes met his blue ones, she could sense something different from
the hostility she'd seen in the black-eyed primitive she'd knocked out. 
This one seemed merely curious and fascinated by the sight of her.
   The Galactica warrior tried not to blush or look embarrassed.
Instead, she merely turned her gaze away from him and back to the
refreshing touch of the waterfall, once again letting its steady flow
massage her face and neck.  For several centons, she simply lay on her
back and allowed the waters to roll off her.
   And then, her period of blissful relaxation was interrupted by a
sound she had heard too many times over the course of the day.
   Crack!
   Hera promptly came upright and looked out into the jungle, where the
shots had come from.  She saw the rest of the primitives around the
lagoon start to scatter about in response to the shot, and then decided
it would be foolish for her to stay put.  She jumped off the ledge back
into the water, remembering to go feet first instead of dive.  As she
treaded her way to the other side of the lagoon, where most of the
humans had retreated to, she heard the sound of the trees breaking and
then saw a solitary figure crash through them, eyes wild with panic and
fear.  Hera's mouth fell open when she realized it was the primitive
she had stunned twenty centons earlier and stolen her clothes from. 
And her incredulity deepened when she saw that the primitive was
wearing her flight jacket.
   She must have found it and....
   Before she could finish her thought, there was another crack and
Hera saw the primitive's head explode in an ugly cloud of blood.  Her
body then tumbled over the ledge and into the lagoon.
   It took all of Hera's self-control to keep herself from screaming. 
She felt completely numb with horror as she remained riveted in her
spot on the other side of the lagoon.  Some of the other primitives had
climbed out of the water and were scurrying off into the jungle. 
Others submerged themselves repeatedly as though they were trying to
hide.
   The Galactica warrior then felt a hand go round her shoulder.  Her
eyes darted to her left and she saw the docile face of the blue-eyed
primitive male who'd been staring at her earlier.  Though initially
startled, she realized right away that his whole expression and
demeanor was protective.  As she looked into his eyes, she actually
sensed for the first time, something bordering on normal human emotion
from one of the primitives.  
   She didn't even think of pushing him aside.  Indeed, her first
instinct was just the opposite as she found herself pressing tightly
against him, clasping her arms about his muscular body and burying her
head on his shoulder.  The sight of seeing the female brutally shot
dead because she'd been wearing her own flight jacket had unnerved Hera
completely and made her want to reach out for the first thing that
might conceivably offer some protection to her.  Especially since she
didn't have any means of defense at this point.  Holding on to the
blue-eyed one at least gave her a sense of security that she would need
until the siminoids were gone.
   They're probably completely patriarchal anyway, she allowed herself
some black humor.  No point in acting out of character by pushing him
aside.
   A siminoid then emerged on the ledge and looked down.  The
primitive's body, still clad in Hera's jacket, lay face down in the
water, her arms flailed out and the blood continuing to gush from her
head.  The unholy stain had already spread over to where Hera and her
blue-eyed protector stood, brushing against her body and increasing the
tension she felt inside.
   "You brainless baboon!" the siminoid turned around and exploded with
fury, "You shot her dead!  Our orders were to take her alive!"
   At that point, another siminoid emerged holding a numo and slouched
in a posture that Hera could only guess was extreme embarrassment.
   "I'm---I'm sorry about that, Captain Quintus," he stammered
apologetically, "I--I tried to shoot just to wound, but the foliage was
so thick that----"
   "Don't make excuses!" Quintus roared, "When General Ursus hears
about this, you'll be lucky if you still remain a private!  Now move!"
   "But---but sir, what about the other one we haven't found---"
   "Never mind that!  I won't waste any more time having  incompetents
like you searching about.  Now back to Ape City, where I put you on
report for your foul-up!"
   The intimidated siminoid disappeared back into the jungle.  Captain
Quintus remained where he was, staring down at the motionless body in
the strange clothes and shaking his head in disgust.  He then looked
about the rest of the lagoon and Hera realized that his eyes had locked
on to where she and the Blue-Eyed one were huddled together. 
   "Lucky for you beasts that I'm not in the mood for a hunt today,"
Quintus said aloud, "You'd make wonderful specimens for target practice
or the Zoo.  Unless you ended up in the hands of that infernal Dr. Zira
the human-lover of course."
   And then, Quintus turned and was gone.
   Hera let out a slow relieved exhale and loosened herself from the
blue-eyed one's hold.  She then realized that he was not as anxious to
let go of her so soon.
   The warrior moved herself around and looked into his face, shaking
her head slightly, trying desperately to avoid speaking.  Her silent
gestures seemed to have no effect on him, for he kept his arms about
her, staring into her face with intense fascination bordering on
wonder.
   Please, Hera said silently.  Please let go of me.  Let me go.
   She didn't want to be forced into a position of hurting him, since
she knew he had helped her stay calm during that harrowing moment.  But
the last thing she needed at a critical time like this was to suddenly
find herself becoming a target of affection from one of these
primitives.
   Finally, she gently grabbed hold of his arms and pried them away
from her body as delicately as she possibly could.  She tried to swim
away but then was stopped as she felt him grab hold of her leg.
   Hera felt the sense of exasperation rising inside her as she turned
around and glared slightly at the blue-eyed one.  His expression was
totally unchanged.  She knew his expression was benevolent, but she
couldn't tell if it came from sexual desire or something else.  Indeed,
there was something in his expression that reminded her of the
affection Muffit used to show when the mechanical daggit would curl
itself up beside her in the play area of her room.
   She shook her leg loose and then patiently put her hand on his
shoulder.  With the other, she pointed toward the lagoon bank, trying
to communicate that she wanted to get out of the water.
   It seemed to have an effect.  He nodded his head faintly and backed
away from her.  Feeling relieved, Hera swam toward the bank until it
was shallow enough for her to walk out.  She then made her way over to
the ledge where the unfortunate primitive had tumbled in after being
shot, and stared down at the still-floating corpse.
   Is it my fault that she's dead?  she wondered.  I stole her clothes
so I could protect myself from the siminoids.  She found my clothes and
put them on to survive, and it cost her her life.
   She realized for the first time, she'd experienced a taste of what
her father and both her grandfathers had gone through in handling the
terrible burdens of command level decisions.  Always having to weigh
the possibility that even the correct decisions can carry unpleasant
consequences.
   Hera sat down on a rock at the entry point back into the jungle and
began plotting her next tactical move.  The things she'd heard the
siminoid called Quintus say had revealed a lot of useful information. 
It told her that Boxey was still safe.  It told her that they wouldn't
be searching the area any longer.  It told her that the siminoids had
likely taken Starbuck to their home that they called 'Ape City.'  And
it told her that there was a siminoid called Zira that she might be
able to seek out as someone inclined to treat humans more favorably.
   She knew that she would have to make her way back.  Back through
this region of the jungle to the open meadows that led back to the
maize field.  Somewhere nearby, the so-called Ape City had to be there.
   Approaching the area would be no problem.  Pinpointing it would be
less certain.  No matter.  She had to try.  Starbuck's life depended on
it.
   Her thinking was disrupted when she felt something fall into her
lap.  She looked up with a start and saw the blue-eyed one standing
next to her again, the same gentle, docile look on his face, holding
what appeared to be several pieces of fruit.  She looked down and
realized that he had dropped another piece on her.  Cautiously, she
picked it up and studied it closely.  It was purple in color and seemed
to resemble a Caprican Sunfruit, which had never been one of her
favorites.  But the realization that she hadn't eaten since before
she'd left the Galactica set in, and she took a deep bite.  To her
amazement, the fruit was deliciously sweet and ripe.  Even better than
what she'd tasted from the agro-ship since it hadn't been grown under
artificially induced conditions.
   She finished it off in three bites and tossed the remains aside. 
Almost immediately, the blue-eyed one knelt beside her and extended his
hand offering another.  Hera looked at him with a mixture of bemusement
and gratitude and took it from him.  She could feel the words "thank
you" forming in her throat, and then caught herself in time.  She still
wasn't ready to take the risk of speaking, even if she was sure she
could think of him as a friend.
   But what kind of friend? she thought as she took a bite of her
second piece of fruit.  She was still curious as to whether the
blue-eyed one was being kind to her because he wanted to be her mate or
if he was responding with the instincts of a faithful pet.
   After the Fleet gets over its depression over what kind of a planet
this is like, the Medical Corps is going to have a field day studying
these people.  Already, she could imagine Cassiopeia running a load of
tests on one of these primitives, finding out all she could about their
mental capacity, and their natural instincts.
   The thought of Cassiopeia reminded her that the sooner she set-off
on her attempt to rescue the Chief Medical Officer's ex-husband, the
better.  But the way the blue-eyed one was hovering around her made
Hera realize that if she tried to walk away, he was going to follow
her.  She was going to have to think of another way.
   She tossed away the rind of her second piece and saw that the
blue-eyed one was again offering her another one.  She smiled faintly
at him and shook her head.  He nodded back in understanding, but did
not leave.  Instead he merely sat down next to her on the ledge, never
once taking his eyes off her.  It amazed Hera that his expression never
changed from that docile, gentle one.  She wondered if he'd ever shown
any anger or rage at any time in his life.
   I have a definite problem, the Galactica warrior thought as she
looked out at the lagoon.  Admittedly it was a better problem than the
one she'd been facing only centons ago, but it was still a problem. 
Irrespective of what his motives were, there was no denying the fact
that he was attracted to her in some way.
   What was making it worse was the fact that she was beginning to feel
a physical attraction to him stirring inside herself.  She couldn't
deny that of all the primitives she'd seen, he was by far the
handsomest one.  She could only imagine that if she used a sonic razor
and trimmer and gave him a shave and haircut, she would see an even
more handsome face.  And his nearly-naked muscular body was the most
perfectly sculpted she'd ever seen.
   She forced her mind to return to the tactical plan she'd been
forming.  The easiest way to slip away unnoticed from the watchful eye
of the primitives was to wait until they were asleep.  That would also
mean by the time she got moving, the siminoids would have returned to
their city and she wouldn't have to worry about running into any of
them on her way back to the maize field.  And if it were night by that
point, she stood a better chance of getting closer to the Ape City
under the cover of darkness than in the daylight.  Assuming that she'd
be able to find it, once she retraced her steps back to her original
starting point.
   She glanced at the blue-eyed one and decided to begin waiting him
out.  As soon as he was asleep, she would go.  For ten centons, she
remained in her seated position on the ledge overlooking the lagoon,
only glancing occasionally at him to see if he was beginning to show
signs of tiring.  And all the time seeing that his captivated
expression remained fixed on her.
   The longer she sat next to him, the more she became aware of her own
inner resolve crumbling.  The combination of the peaceful setting of
the lagoon and the jungle, his hovering presence, and her growing
physical lust for him was proving too much for her to ignore.  The
horrific events she had experienced since landing on the planet had
been emotionally trying for her, and she felt the need for some kind of
temporary escape from all the insanity.
   Besides, there was also a part of Hera that made her feel as though
she owed him something.  In a sense, his protective presence at that
particular centon had kept her from losing her wits after seeing the
female shot dead.  And had she given into her fear, it would have
instantly given herself away and made her an easy target for the
siminoid scouts.
   I'm probably just looking for an excuse to have him, she thought. 
And the funny thing is, I don't think I even care.  Indeed, she felt a
mischief sense of wickedness inside about breaking the codes her father
had taught her, that made her feel giddy with delight.
   She glanced sideways and smiled faintly at him.  Trying to
communicate a silent message to him that she hoped he'd understand.
   Now I know what Starbuck meant by the "good old days" of liberty in
space ports before heading off to battle, she chuckled to herself.
   Hera felt his hand brush against her back, and felt her sense of
self-control disappear completely.  She grabbed him by the shoulders
and pulled him to her in a passion-filled embrace.  Within two centons,
all of Hera's thoughts about Starbuck, Boxey, the Galactica, Earth and
the siminoids had been temporarily placed on hold.


   Since Cornelius and Zira had departed, Dr. Zaius had tried to return
his attention to affairs that had been piling up on his desk ever since
his energies had been totally distracted by the Taylor situation.  But
he had only gotten halfway into his first piece of old business when he
heard a pounding on his door.
   "Yes?" the elderly orangutan looked up and said with impatience. 
The door opened and he saw to his distaste that it was General Ursus,
commander of what was officially the Ape Police Force, which consisted
entirely of gorillas.  But while it was technically a police force, it
had all the trappings and functions of a full-fledged army, with army
training techniques, army ranks and an army code of discipline.  The
Ruling Class of Ape Civilization had given those trappings to the
gorillas because they knew how much it would stroke their egos and keep
their martial instincts channeled towards a productive use.  But ever
since Ursus had become commander of the Police Force, Zaius had seen a
gorilla who's instincts for war might not be so easily submerged.  He'd
long heard Ursus make rumblings that gorillas should be given the
privilege of exterminating all humans that existed as part of massive
war campaign.  And he knew that if Ursus ever realized that there
potentially existed a society of intelligent humans somewhere in the
Forbidden Zone, it would bring a call for an even costlier type of war.
   "Good afternoon, Dr. Zaius," Ursus said as he made his way up to the
Chief Scientist, "I'm glad to see that you're in."
   "Merely attending to some neglected affairs in the Ministry."
   "Yes, I can imagine that the whole business surrounding that talking
human took up a lot of your time," his tone was pleasant but had the
edge of someone preparing to spring an unexpected surprise, "Especially
that escape of his into the Forbidden Zone."
   "The affair is closed," Dr. Zaius said emphatically, "You need not
concern yourself over it any longer."
   "Well I'm curious, Dr. Zaius," the general began to pace about in
front of the Chief Scientist's desk, "What was the final judgment of
the Ministry of Science as to what that talking creature actually was?"
   "A scientifically altered freak," he lied, "Cornelius and Zira have
been properly disciplined for their actions."
   "Really," there was the faint air of a smirk in Ursus's expression,
"Tell me something Dr. Zaius, were they capable of altering more than
one human into a talking freak?"
   Zaius frowned at the general, "I don't know what you're talking
about."
   "Then I'll have to show you," Ursus motioned, "Come with me."
   "General Ursus, I have pressing business to attend to----"
   "It's all irrelevant now!" the gorilla snapped.  "Come!"
   The Chief Scientist knew that Ursus was technically violating  
civil authority in demanding his presence.  But the substance of the
general's remarks had set off an alarm bell inside his simian brain,
and he had to see what it was that Ursus was talking about.
   He followed the general out of the Ministry building and into the
main roadway where the trailer stood parked in the middle, it's horses
already detached.
   "Look in there, Dr. Zaius," Ursus motioned, "Today's hunt yielded a
human who not only talks but has weapons that far exceed anything we've
ever known."
   The elderly orangutan stared at the unconscious body of Starbuck in
dubious disbelief.
   "What proof do you have of what you say?" he kept his tone firm, but
avoided looking at the gorilla.
   "Everyone who participated in today's hunt are my witnesses," Ursus
said with triumph, "And I have eight dead gorillas who are the silent
witnesses.  Struck down by their weapons.  A strange type of gun that
shoots fire streaks instead of bullets."
   Zaius darted around, "What do you mean 'their' weapons?"
   "This wasn't the only one," Ursus went on, "There were two others
with him, one male, one female.  Dressed the same way, firing the same
weapons at us.  My patrol took care of the female, but the male is
still at large."
   The Chief Scientist was clearly at a loss of words.
   "I intend to exercise my prerogative to call for an Open Assembly of
our entire population," Ursus folded his arms, "And when I am through,
there will be but one outcome for us.  War!  Total war until every last
human is exterminated!  Because now they have shown themselves to be an
even greater threat to us than we could ever have imagined."
   Dr. Zaius stared at him for almost a minute without saying anything. 
Finally, he walked away toward the residential section of Ape City.
   "You can't run from this, Dr. Zaius!" Ursus shouted, "My will shall
prevail!"
   The Chief Scientist didn't respond, but he already knew in his heart
that the general's words were true.
   Unless he could pull off a miracle of some sorts that would prevent
the scenario he had dreaded all his life from coming to pass.


   Zira had finished gathering all the notes she had taken in more than
ten years of conducting experiments on captive humans.  For over a
minute she looked at them with a measure of sadness.
   They represented the commitment of an entire lifetime.  Since she
was a child, she had always been fascinated by man as the only known
creature that possessed a physiology similar to that of apes.  And so,
when she had chosen science as her career she found herself drawn into
the fields of psychology and zoology, determined that she would one day
learn things that would unlock the secrets of what made them tick, as
well as learn things that would prove beneficial to apes as well.
   And now, because of her desire to see Knowledge and Truth prevail,
her right to conduct the work she loved had been taken from her.
   She picked up the first of her notebooks and went over to the
fireplace located on the far side of her living room.  She opened the
grate and tossed it inside.
   "Zira, what are you doing?"
   She turned around and saw that her husband had entered.  She said
nothing though as she prepared to light a match.
   "Aren't those your notes?" Cornelius asked with bewilderment.
   "Yes," she said flatly as she lit the match and prepared to toss it
inside.
   "Well don't do that," he grabbed her wrist and caused the match to
fall to the floor, where he promptly crushed it under his boot.  "It
was only a suspension.  You'll be reinstated soon.  We both will."
   "Don't be naive, Cornelius," she said with disgust, "They'll never
let us do the work we love again.  Paying our salaries is nothing more
than a bribe to keep us quiet."
   "For once in your life, try to show some more optimism," he said
firmly, "If we have to pursue other ventures temporarily, we'll manage. 
But if you care as much about Truth and Knowledge as you say you do,
then you won't do something as foolish as burn ten years of knowledge
that you've accumulated."
   She let out a sigh and pulled the notebook out of the fireplace,
"You're right."
   "Excellent," he smiled, "Now let's try and start our marriage with a
clean slate."
   Before she could answer, there was a pounding on their front door. 
Cornelius went over to open it and was surprised to see the Chief
Scientist standing there.
   "Dr. Zaius," he said with amazement, "What brings you to see us
again so soon?"
   "Much," the elderly orangutan grunted and made his way over to a
nearby chair, "My worst fears are becoming true."
   "What do you mean?"
   He sat down and glared at the archeologist, "Some of Taylor's
friends have chosen to show themselves and display violence!" his voice
rose with anger.
   "What?" Zira came in from the next room.
   Zaius summarized his meeting with General Ursus and what he had
seen.
   "But you don't know that Taylor has anything to do with these
humans!" Zira protested when he was finished.
   "Whether he is or isn't involved doesn't matter," Zaius snapped,
"What matters is that what the Lawgiver warned in the Unknown Scrolls
about mutants living in the Forbidden Zone is true!  And today we see
evidence of their hostile intentions.  Now, Ursus and the gorillas are
going to plunge us into a war that will rupture the very fabric of our
society."  he got to his feet, "Unless you agree to help me
immediately."
   "Help you?" Zira scoffed, "For what reason?"
   "I will personally see to it that your sentence is not enforced and
that you will both be able to resume your professions in you chosen
fields within a month," there was an edge of desperation in Dr. Zaius's
voice, "All you have to do is take charge of this human and treat his
wounds quickly so that I can talk to him and get all the information I
can out of him."
   "And then what?" Cornelius folded his arms, "When you've gotten what
you want, do you plan on letting him go, or do you plan on doing to him
what you did to Taylor's friend?  The one he called Landon?"
   "That is not your concern,"  Zaius said flatly, "The important thing
is to get him out of General Ursus's hands before he comes to and
starts talking.  If Ursus doesn't have a talking human to present
before the Open Assembly, then his calls for all-out war can not
succeed."
   "I won't do it!" Zira said sharply, "Not when you won't pledge to
let him go."
   "Before you go off showing all that compassion for him, I would
remind you that he and his friends shot eight gorillas dead," the Chief
Scientist said coolly, "Not exactly the mark of someone entitled to
special treatment."
   "No doubt because he was trying to save his brothers from being
brutalized in the hunt," Zira said.
   "Might I suggest that we cease arguing and get to the heart of the
matter?" Cornelius stepped in, trying to keep things from getting out
of hand, "Dr. Zaius, I believe we can pledge our full cooperation if it
will keep General Ursus from leading a call to war."
   "Then come with me," Zaius motioned to the door, "We haven't a
moment to lose."
   The two chimpanzees followed the Chief Scientist out into the main
roadway.  In the distance, they could see General Ursus standing by the
trailer.
   "If ever there was an ape who made me ashamed of my own race, it's
Ursus and his kind," the contempt was thick in Zira's voice.
   "On that we are in agreement," Dr. Zaius nodded, "And if you don't
wish to see gorillas displace orangutans in the Ruling Class, you'll do
everything I ask you to."
   Zira wrinkled her muzzle at him but said nothing as they approached
the trailer.
   "Ah, you've brought back the two apes who love humans more than
anyone," Ursus was dripping with sarcasm as he saw the three of them,
"How utterly unsurprising."
   "General Ursus," Zaius drew himself to the most erect bearing he
could summon and laced his words with stern authority, "As chief of the
Ministry of Science, and Chief Defender of the Faith, you are ordered
to release custody of this human to me, where I will find out all he
knows."
   "You'll forgive me Dr. Zaius, if I seem skeptical of your
intentions," the general refused to let up, "Especially since you plan
on letting those human-lovers assist you."
   "General Ursus!" the elderly orangutan thundered, "Unless you can
produce countermanding orders to my authority from the President of the
Assembly, you will obey me and release him to me!"
   Ursus glared at him with contempt.
   "Spoken like a true member of the Ruling Class," he said as he
handed Zaius the key to the trailer.  "Very well, Dr. Zaius.  But if
you're thinking of ways to block my arguments before the Open Assembly,
you will come to regret it."
   He then moved off, leaving the three of them alone with the trailer
and its contents.
   "Have a look, Zira," the Chief Scientist motioned as he unlocked the
trailer door.  The psychologist climbed into the back end and gave
Starbuck's unconscious form a quick, cursory examination.
   "This man needs immediate medical attention!" she said as she
crawled out.  "I'll notify Galen at the Hospital and have him prepare
to operate."
   "He must do it alone," Zaius cautioned, "The fewer who see him, the
better."
   Zira nodded and began dashing off toward the stone building on the
opposite side of the roadway.  Cornelius stayed by the trailer with
Zaius, giving the Chief Scientist a cold stare.
   The orangutan noticed it, "I know that expression Cornelius.  The
very thing my late wife would do before she said, 'I told you so.'"
   "Not so much you as your predecessors who began this infernal
practice of concealing the truth, Dr. Zaius," Cornelius said with only
a hint of frost, "Had we been prepared centuries ago to accept the idea
that intelligent humans still existed, we surely would not face the
danger we see today from the likes of Ursus."
   The Chief Scientist refused to answer him and turned his back on the
archeologist.


   Starbuck was certain that the next time he'd open his eyes he'd
discover that he was dead.  And then he'd finally know all the answers
to the questions that man had been pondering for thousands of yahrens
about what lay on the other side of death.
   Twice in his lifetime, he was certain that he'd gotten some kind of
taste of that when he'd been taken aboard the Ship of Lights, but he
was sure that only represented a part of what it was all about.
   The question he was most anxious to know was whether people were
reunited with friends and loved ones in the life beyond. If that was
true, then he could think of a lot of people he wanted to talk to
again.  Giles.  Bojay.  Greenbean.  Other comrades lost in battle over
the yahrens.  And he especially wanted to have a word with that old con
artist Chameleon.  It wasn't until after his death, that Cassiopeia had
finally revealed a truth she had kept hidden from Starbuck for yahrens. 
That Chameleon had really been his father.
   "He seems to be coming to," he could hear a male voice say amidst
the blackness, "All lifesigns are normal.  Blood loss compensated for. 
He should have a full and total recovery."
   Those did not sound like the words he'd expected to hear in the
Great Beyond.  They had more the ring of words that indicated he was
still alive.
   But if he was still alive, then that meant he was still trapped on
this godforsaken joke of a planet called Earth, the prisoner of the
ugly siminoids.
   "Ohhhhh," he moaned slightly as he felt his headache and tried to
lift his arm so he could touch his forehead.
   "Whatever you do, do not speak," a stern female voice said, "Remain
silent for now.  You're being treated in a Hospital and your bullet
wounds have been tended to.  It should be a day or two before you
recover completely from your concussion."
   Starbuck finally forced his eyes open.  He could see that he was
lying on some kind of examination table with IV needles running out of
his left arm.  The next thing he became aware of was that his uniform
had been stripped away completely, and he was wearing only a loincloth
similar to what he'd seen the primitives wearing.
   "Hey!" he blurted, "What happened to my clothes?"
   "Removed for your protection.  Now be quiet!" the female voice said
sternly.  Starbuck's eyes darted over and saw that the voice belonged
to a female chimpanzee holding a clipboard.  Two other chimpanzees, one
wearing the white coat of a physician, stood off to one side, while at
the back room he could see the hideous-looking figure of an orangutan.
   "He looks ready to talk," Dr. Zaius shuffled forward to the table. 
"Have him brought into my office for interrogation."
   "I would advise against that, Dr. Zaius," the surgeon called Galen
protested.  "He needs time to recover."
   "I have little time to waste!" the Chief Scientist retorted.  "Have
him brought in, now!"
   Zira let out an exasperated sigh, "Do it, Galen," she then looked at
the orangutan, "But if you're going to interrogate him, Dr. Zaius, I
must insist on being present, along with Cornelius.  You owe us that
privilege."
   "Granted, granted," he waved his cane impatiently.  "Let's just get
this miserable affair done with."
   "Put a collar and leash on him, Galen," Zira said.
   As soon as the surgeon tried to put it around Starbuck's neck, the
warrior began to squirm violently in protest, "Now wait a fracking
centon!"
   "Hold still!" the surgeon admonished.  "It's for your own safety. 
If they see an unleashed human being led about, it becomes a criminal
offense."
   Starbuck let out an exasperated grunt as he felt the leather collar
go round his neck, "Then you won't mind if I register a complaint with
your judicial branch?"
   "Put a muzzle on him!" Zaius ordered, "I don't want him talking
until he's in my office!"
   Cornelius nodded and placed the leather face guard that kept the
jaws locked over Starbuck's face.  He tried to thrash about in protest,
but the two chimpanzees managed to keep him restrained.  When it was
finally in place, the IV's were removed and they lifted Starbuck to his
feet.  The final restraint was put in place with two thick strands of
rope binding his wrists together.
   "You lead him Zira," the Chief Scientist motioned and then stepped
out into the next room.
   The psychologist took him by the leash and glared at Starbuck, "I
want to help you as much as I can, but you won't do yourself any favors
unless you cooperate and be still!" she whispered.
   Starbuck tried to mumble a retort but the muzzle had immobilized his
jaws completely.  His shock had now been replaced by intense anger that
he'd been subjected to the humiliations of being stripped and now led
about on a leash like an animal.  Especially by creatures that he'd
always regarded as the most repulsive of all animals since he was a
child.
   Zira led Starbuck out of the room and out of the building.  Night
had now fallen over Ape City.  The only illumination came from some
crude oil lamps and torches lining the buildings.  In the dim glare,
Starbuck could see a wooden cage containing more than two dozen humans
milling about.  He half expected that he was going to be thrown in
there, but to his surprise Zira led him past the cage toward another
stone building at the far end of the roadway.  When they entered, she
led him down a corridor toward a door at the building's far end.  The
door was already open, and Zaius was seated behind his desk, with
Cornelius sitting off to one side.
   "Let him sit down," the Chief Scientist motioned toward one of the
other chairs that had been set up.  As soon as Zira had seated
Starbuck, she and Cornelius then pulled the muzzle off his face.
   "Let me tell you something," Starbuck spoke the instant his jaws
could move again, "When it comes to being good hosts, you guys are the
absolute worst."
   "A bit of an eccentric isn't he?" Cornelius said to his wife with
amusement.
   "Indeed," Zira nodded.
   Starbuck turned and glared at them, "And I suppose your definition
of a normal human is one that meekly lets himself be led around on a
leash when you gallmonging snitrods aren't shooting them in cold
blood?"
   "I don't know what you mean by a 'gallmonging snitrod'----" Dr.
Zaius began.
   "Whatever it means Dr. Zaius, I believe this eccentric one meant it
as in insult," Cornelius said.
   Starbuck gave the archeologist a smirk, "You're real smart for a
chimp.  I'm not sure I'd be able to say that about many of you."
   The archeologist flinched when he heard the term 'chimp' which in
ape language was always regarded as a slur to describe chimpanzees who
were slothful and lazy.  The only insults that a chimpanzee would have
considered worse than that, were to be called a 'monkey' or a 'baboon'. 
The only two species of apes that did not possess intelligence.
   "Your comments are most unwise," Dr. Zaius resumed, "I might as well
come straight to the point and tell you that if you do not provide us
with information, you will face a most horrible fate."
   "Oh boy," Starbuck rolled his eyes, "I've heard that line before. 
And from beings far less ugly than the lot of you."
   "Do not try my patience!" the Chief Scientist bolted up from his
chair, "I am willing to let you go and return to where you came from,
but only if you cooperate!"
   "Depends on what you ask me," Starbuck refused to be intimidated.
   Dr. Zaius sat back down, visibly seething with rage.  Sensing that
the old orangutan was putting a strain on himself, Zira decided to take
the initiative.
   "Look," she began in a more gentle tone of voice, trying to sound
friendly, "Do you have a name?"
   "Starbuck," he refused to reciprocate her gentleness.
   "Starbuck," she repeated and kept her tone friendly, "Look, all we
want to know is why you are here."
   "I thought that reason was pretty obvious," Starbuck remained flip,
"My reflexes aren't what they used to be, and I foolishly put myself in
a position where I allowed your friends to capture me.  That's why I'm
here."
   This man may lead me to reassess every positive thing I was
beginning to think about humanity, Cornelius thought with disgust.
   "Look, Starbuck," Zira summoned all of her training in psychology to
the forefront, "I think maybe if you learned to trust us, we might be
able to help each other."
   "Help," he scoffed, "Oh yeah, I'm sure your race has lots of
experience in giving humans a helping hand."
   "Starbuck," Zira refused to let herself lose patience, "Please.  Put
away your anger for a moment.  Put away your suspicion and hostility
toward every ape in general.  Learn to realize that there are some of
us who aren't as bloodthirsty as those gorillas who captured you."
   The grizzled warrior stared at her for a moment, not saying
anything, as though he was trying to make a decision on whether or not
her friendly tone was sincere.
   When he finally spoke, the flippancy was gone from his voice, "Is
that what you call yourself?  Apes?"
   "Yes," she nodded and seemed slightly puzzled, "You have another
name for our species where you come from?"
   "In our language, the general classification term is siminoids,"
Starbuck said, deciding to be cautious for now, "Though I have to
admit, your term is shorter and simpler."
   "You've never used the term 'apes' before?" Cornelius entered the
conversation.
   "No," Starbuck looked at him, "It's not in our language."
   "But Taylor understood the term," Dr. Zaius chose to reenter the
discussion, "How could you not know?"
   Starbuck turned toward the orangutan and frowned, "Who's Taylor?"
   "Do not insult my intelligence, Starbuck," the Chief Scientist's
voice rose slightly, "It is impossible for me to believe that you and
your companions could be this close to Ape City and be ignorant of who
Taylor is."
   "What happened to them?" the hostility returned to Starbuck's voice,
"Where are they?"
   The elderly orangutan leaned back in his chair, "I will not answer
your questions until you cooperate."
   "I said where are they?!" Starbuck bolted up from his chair and
would have reached out to strangle Zaius had his hands not been bound
behind his back.
   "You make another move, and you die now!" Zaius shouted as he pulled
out a gun he'd kept hidden behind his desk.  "If you value your life,
and your people, you will cooperate!"
   Cornelius and Zira grabbed Starbuck by the shoulders and forced him
back into his seat.  The archeologist had a look of absolute disgust on
his face, while Zira began to think that communicating with this human
was next to hopeless.  Taylor at least was willing to reach out to
someone willing to help him.  The way this one had such an innate
hostility toward apes made her wonder if she'd done Dr. Zaius a
disservice in condemning him so harshly.
   Starbuck's expression remained venomous as he stared at the Chief
Scientist.  "I'm not saying one fracking word until you tell me what
happened to my two friends."
   "No!" Zaius shouted, "You cooperate with us, first!"
   The warrior leaned back against his chair, "I guess I've got no
choice then."
   "Indeed," the Chief Scientist rose from his chair, "Let's begin then
with a clearing of the air.  You and your friends came here to rescue
Taylor, did you not?"
   "I told you, I don't know any Taylor!" Starbuck felt the
exasperation rising inside him.
   "Preposterous!" Zaius scoffed, "Taylor is the only other one of your
kind to cross our path.  You have to know who he is!"
   "Who is Taylor?" at this point, Starbuck found himself thinking that
a Cylon interrogation would be preferable to this.  At least when it
came to the Cylons, he always knew what it was that they wanted to
know, and he could bluff his way through.  But with these creatures, he
didn't have the vaguest conception of what it was they wanted to know. 
All he knew was that he hated this race of siminoids with as much
passion as he hated Cylons.
   "Taylor is like you," Zira pointed to him, "He is the only other
human I have ever known who can talk and think."
   Starbuck's ears seemed to perk up, "You mean there are intelligent
humans on this planet?  And that all of them aren't like those
primitive ones?"
   "We always thought of Taylor as unique," Cornelius said, wondering
why Starbuck had used the term 'planet.'  "Although, we have since
learned that he is conceivably one of many."
   "It's nice to hear that," the sarcastic edge returned to Starbuck's
voice.
   "Do not play the fool with me, Starbuck!" Zaius snapped, "Perhaps
you don't personally know Taylor, but you undoubtedly come from his
tribe in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Listen pal," Starbuck said in a low, emphatic tone, "I don't know
any Taylor and I never heard of the Forbidden Zone.  I don't even come
from this planet, for sagan's sake!"
   Both Cornelius and Zira felt their brows furrow when they heard the
last remark.  Dr. Zaius though, began to laugh.
   "My friend," he said, "You are a very bad liar.  You claim not to
know Taylor, yet you tell the same ridiculous story of coming from
another planet exactly like he did."
   "Believe me pal, I've lied plenty of times in my life, but only when
it concerns gambling and women," Starbuck shot back, "I come from
another planet at the other edge of this galaxy.  My people came to
this planet to look for a brother tribe of ours that settled here many
thousands of yahrens ago.  And that's the most I'm going to tell you,
until you tell me where my two friends are!"
   The bewildered looks on Cornelius and Zira only increased.  Dr.
Zaius seemed no less dubious, as he relaxed his posture and leaned
forward. 
   "Very well," he said, "Your male friend remains at large.  As for
the female, I am afraid that the gorillas killed her in the search."
   Starbuck's eyes bulged in shock.  The thought that Hera, whom he had
first held in his arms on the day she'd been born, whom he had watched
grow up, and who he regarded as the closest thing he'd ever had to a
child of his own, could be dead was almost too much for him to
consider.
   He was too shocked and sickened to lash out in rage.  All he could
think of was Apollo and Sheba, and what he'd have to say to them if he
got out of this alive.  And if he'd be able to live with himself again.
   "Frack," he lowered his head, and muttered.  The three apes could
see the emotion and torment on his face, and it instantly caused
Cornelius and Zira to reassess their initial attitudes of Starbuck,
even though they were still astounded by what they saw as his bizarre
comment about coming from another planet.
   Maybe he isn't so eccentric after all, Zira thought.  Maybe he just
acts that way to conceal his true self.
   "Starbuck?" Zira put her furry hand on his, "Starbuck, believe me
when we say we're sorry for that.  None of us wanted to see that
happen.  The gorillas are a bloodthirsty part of our species."
   "You're not exactly examples of congeniality yourself!" Starbuck
suddenly roared, "You lousy fracking murderers!"
   "And what do you call your shooting dead eight gorillas?" Dr. Zaius
acidly retorted.  "Any claims of moral superiority on your part, I find
most unimpressive."
   "I killed siminoids who were shooting down and brutalizing an
innocent group of human beings," Starbuck wanted to spit at the
orangutan, "I have a sworn oath to protect human life, and by God I'm
going to keep that!"
   "Again, you betray yourself," the Chief Scientist said, "You speak
of an oath.  A military oath?  That means you are a solider of some
kind."
   "Of some kind," he nodded and snarled.
   "Proving beyond any shadow of a doubt that you are nothing more than
a mutant from the Forbidden Zone with the same brutal instinct for war
and destruction that has always been the hallmark of your race."
   Starbuck was seething with so much rage and anger that he felt
totally incapable of saying anything else at this point.  All he felt
was an all-consuming hatred of everything about this race of siminoids
and a desire to see it destroyed.
   Zira could see the fury in the warrior's face, and decided the time
had come to intercede.
   "Dr. Zaius," she got to her feet, "I must protest the way you've
been handling this.  You've been provoking him senselessly and doing
nothing to encourage him to cooperate.  With your permission, I'd like
to have a talk with him privately."
   "For what?" Zaius snorted, "How can I be sure you won't do with him,
what you did with Taylor?"
   "Dr. Zaius, you have our word of honor," Cornelius spoke up, "My
wife only wishes to help, and I think her methods would probably do a
lot better than yours would."
   "I haven't the time to wait for a scientific experiment to succeed!"
the Chief Scientist said indignantly, "General Ursus will have a
meeting summoned within three days.  This human must either have
cooperated by then, or be destroyed!"
   "Your methods don't seem to be making any headway," Zira retorted,
"Perhaps treating Starbuck with some dignity would do us all a lot
better."
   Starbuck glanced over at the psychologist and for the first time
sensed that maybe all of the siminoids weren't alike.  He had heard
enough con artists in his lifetime to realize that Zira's tone of voice
was utterly sincere.
   Dr. Zaius sat back down and let out an exasperated grunt.
   "Very well.  But I give you just twenty-four hours.  If you have not
succeeded by then, he is to be destroyed."
   "Agreed," Zira nodded her head, and then came over to Starbuck.
   "Starbuck," her voice had the tenderness of a foster mother meeting
a child for the first time, "I'd like you to spend the night with
Cornelius and me at our house.  If you promise not to talk on the way
over, we won't have to bother with the muzzle."
   The warrior looked at her with extreme caution, still angry and
upset over the news about Hera, and not wanting to trust her.
   But Starbuck realized that if he was going to have any chance at
all, he might as well go along with her.  And see how genuine her
compassion really was.
   "All right," he said quietly with an air of resignation, "Lead the
way."


   The moon had finally come out, casting a soft white glow over the
lagoon waters.  It gave Hera just barely enough illumination to realize
that the blue-eyed one was finally fast asleep, curled up alongside her
in the same way that she could remember Muffit doing when she was a
child.
   Without making a sound, and being extremely careful not to disturb
him, she slowly got to her feet, picked up her skimpy garments and
tiptoed her way back into the darkened regions of the forest.
   She felt only a tinge of guilt about how she was treating the man
she had freely chosen to lose her virginity to.  She had unquestionably
taken advantage of him, but if she hadn't done something to get her
mind off the tragedies of the day, she wasn't sure if she'd have been
able to keep her sanity.  The blue-eyed one had at least offered her
some relief and she didn't care at all that it had meant violating some
of the moral codes her parents had taught her about sex.  
   At no time did she ever have to worry about being tempted to stay in
the safety of the jungle with the blue-eyed one.  All throughout the
two sessions of lovemaking she'd experienced, the back of her
disciplined mind was reminding her of the job that needed to be done,
and as soon as the opportunity was right, she was going to get back to
that job no matter what.  The blue-eyed one could only be a pleasant
diversion to her, not someone she could develop an emotional attachment
to.
   Even so, she couldn't deny that he was always going to occupy a
place in her memory.  Because of that, she turned back and looked at
his still sleeping form for a brief moment, trying not to let her eyes
tear up.
   Goodbye handsome, she said to herself.  And thank you.
   With that, all of her energies were now directed toward getting back
to that mysterious "Ape City" where she knew Starbuck was being held
prisoner.  There was little moonlight penetrating the forest, and it
made Hera exercise even greater caution in not making a sound.  She
moved very slowly, pausing to put her garments back on along the way. 
After she'd gone thirty feet, she almost let out a startled exclamation
when her toes brushed against something metallic on the ground.  She
reached down and picked the object up and realized to her amazement
that she'd found her holster belt.  Even more amazing was the fact that
her laser pistol and portable scanner were still attached.
   Incredible, she thought as she wrapped it around her waist.  By all
the Lords of Kobol, how could I have been so lucky?
   She realized that the only reason why it was lying here was because
the unfortunate female who had stolen her clothes from the hiding spot,
had in all likelihood tossed it aside, not realizing what it was.  Once
again, that unfortunate female had done something that had helped
insure Hera's survival for now.
   It took Hera almost a half-centar of quiet tiptoeing through the
foliage before she finally reached the open field area.  The clear,
moonlit night made visibility much easier and she started a normal
walking pace back in the direction of the maize field, where the whole
miserable ordeal had begun in what seemed like an eternity ago to her.
   When she reached the top of the incline, she stopped to look off
toward the horizon.  As far as she could tell, there was no one there,
human or siminoid.  To be on the safe side, she detached her scanner
and activated it.  It registered nothing.
   Knowing it was imperative to get near to where Starbuck was before
the night waned, she began to run through the tall grass as fast as her
legs could carry her.


   As Starbuck languished in the prison of Ape City, and Hera made her
way through the fields and forests to try and locate him, the third
Galactica warrior continued his slow, lonely journey in the other
direction toward the jagged peaks of the rugged desert.
   Boxey's constant walking since he had left the vandalized wrecks of
the three vipers behind had caused his sprained ankle to badly swell
up.  After a while, he had become oblivious to the pain.  The only
thing that mattered was putting as much distance as he possibly could
between himself and the siminoid colony.  Hoping desperately that far
away from them, he would find signs of life on Earth that could help
him.  And help the people of the Fleet as well.  Because what he had
seen up to now represented something worse than any of the nightmares
he could remember having about potential bad situations on Earth.
   There has to be more to this planet than humans that can't talk and
siminoids that seem to run everything, he thought as he dragged himself
down a rocky incline, almost tripping over the stones in the process.
   Boxey finally decided it was time to take a brief respite.  He knew
he had to have covered at least fifteen miles on foot since he'd begun,
and it was hard for him to imagine that the siminoids would try to
venture this far.  He knew that at this point, his journey had passed
over completely from one of escape to one of searching.
   God forgive me for not looking for Starbuck and Hera, he sighed
heavily as he took out the first of his protein bars and unwrapped it. 
But I can't do it alone.  I have to find someone who can help.
   As he looked about the wide expanse of craggy rock formations and
jagged peaks through his nightvision goggles though, it was hard to
imagine that there was any other kind of life at all on this planet. 
All he could see was total, lonely desolation as far as the eye could
see.
   "So this is the paradise the Thirteenth tribe settled on," he said
aloud, "Looks as though they did a lovely job running it."
   Boxey finished his unappetizing protein bar and then fingered the
medallion that his father had given him to wear only eighteen centars
ago, but which now seemed like an eternity to him.  The medallion that
Adama had worn for so many yahrens as a symbol of unshakable faith in
the destiny of humankind to start anew on the planet Earth.  He found
himself rubbing the design in the center that depicted the Great Seal
of the Lords of Kobol, as if he hoped that it might restore some of
that same faith within himself.
   "Earth is a shining blue planet, where humans of all creeds live in
absolute harmony and tranquility......"
   The ghostly echo of words from a bedtime story Adama had told him so
long ago filled his mind.  It seemed to cancel out any hope within
Boxey that his faith in the dream of Earth could ever be restored.
   Unless I find something.  There has to be something out here!
   He pulled out his micro-scanner and began pointing it in every
direction around the vast, canyon-like regions.  If nothing registered
on it, then he was tempted to start thinking that the time had come to
turn back and take his chances with what lay near the siminoids' own
territory.  If there was no trace of anything that he could get to by
morning, then his chances of getting help for Starbuck and Hera would
be down to non-existent.
   For over a centon, he trained the scanner back and forth in a
rolling motion toward every possible distant horizon.  All he heard was
a monotonous click indicating nothing.
   It soon got to the point where Boxey let out an exasperated grunt
and didn't keep a firm grip on the scanner.  It now tilted slightly
downward at an angle, as he continued to move it back and forth.
   Ping!
   Boxey bolted up from his sitting position and promptly heard the
click resume.  He wondered if he had just imagined the sound, but it
had sounded completely real to him.  He began to move the scanner about
in crazy angles trying to pinpoint the direction it had been in when
the solitary ping registered.
   Three centons went by and nothing happened.  He was about to give up
and chalk the whole thing up to his imagination when he crouched down
slightly and heard the sound again.
   Ping!
   Boxey froze in his position, and the pinging sound continued.  It
was coming from a downward trajectory, somewhere off to his left.  He
readjusted his nightvision goggles to get the clearest view of what lay
in that direction.  What he saw didn't look promising.  He expected to
see some type of cave, but only saw a medium sized rock formation, no
more than ten feet high.  It didn't seem likely that it could be the
source of the scanner contact, but the longer Boxey kept the device
trained on it, the more steady the pinging became.
   The Galactica warrior felt his hands trembling as he readjusted the
dial to get information on just what the contacts were.  But as soon as
he made the adjustment, his screen suddenly went blank and the pinging
came to a stop.
   "What the frack---" he said aloud and banged his hand against the
side of the device.  There wasn't even a click coming from it anymore. 
Without any warning, his scanner had gone completely dead.
   "Of all the lousy times for a power unit to run dead!" he shouted
angrily as he prepared to open the back of the device.  But before he
could remove the cover, he abruptly stopped and began to think very
carefully.
   There is no way the power could have wound down, he thought.  Boomer
personally designed these devices and they're supposed to be good for
more than a hundred centars of continuous use.
   It struck him as too much of a strange coincidence that his scanner
would go out just at the point where he would have learned who and what
those contacts were.  There had to be a definite reason why it had
happened at that particular instant in time.
   Boxey took another look about at the vast endless sea of rocky peaks
and desert canyon that seemed to stretch out to infinity on all sides
of him.  There was nothing but landscape visible for as far as the eye
could see, suggesting only lonely desolation.
   And yet, Boxey could feel a chill creeping up his back.  A chill
caused by a firm belief that somewhere, by something, he was being
watched.  And whatever it was that was watching him was the cause of
why his scanner had gone out.
   He stared at the rock formation where the pinging had come from.  It
beckoned to him with all the temptation of a Skorpian dancer shedding
her costume.
   He massaged his swollen ankle and then picked up his survival gear. 
If this was a temptation, he planned to give in to it.
   Boxey made his way over to the rock formation and saw that it was
not one solid piece of rock, as it had seemed from a distance.  There
was a five foot slab lying up against the larger formation, suggesting
that it concealed the entrance to a cave.  He inspected the slab and
saw that is was no more than two inches thick.  He could easily blast
that away with his laser pistol on the maximum setting, but decided
that he should try and push it away first.  He braced himself against
the side of the slab and pushed hard with all his strength.  To his
amazement, it gave way with little exertion and fell aside, breaking
into two sections when it hit the ground.
   He peered inside and saw a black cave leading down.  He adjusted his
goggles to the maximum level but only saw the blackness lessen a tiny
bit.
   No matter.  This was something he had to check out.  And if he was
being lured inside by beings unknown, he was more than prepared to
defend himself.
   After saying a quick prayer to the Almighty for strength and
courage, he rubbed the medallion around his neck for extra luck and
slowly descend

                    Chapter Five

   The Magellan II was now less than twelve hours away from landing. 
Twelve more hours, and her three-man crew would be greeted to the sight
of a world totally changed from the one they had known and left a scant
eighteen months earlier.
   Twice, Brent had felt the need to take a stress pill to alleviate
the tension that had been building inside him ever since he'd first
spotted the North American continent through the cockpit windows and
realized that this mission was going to give him a glimpse of something
he'd never wanted to see.  The future of his planet, and his people. 
He'd tried to pass the time remaining before landing by getting some
sleep but the hibernation experience had left him unable to get his
body to obey on that score.  And so, he'd remained in his seat on the
left side of the cockpit, unable to take his eyes off the Earth as it
grew closer and closer in the windows.
   Occasionally, he cast a glance at Rollins and Fowler to get some
measure of how they were treating the whole thing.  He could see enough
in Fowler's eyes to tell that the navigator had as much apprehension as
he did.  Rollins though, was another matter.  The expedition commander
had nary a trace of emotion in his eyes or movements.  It still
astounded Brent that Rollins could be completely oblivious to the
ethical and moral ramifications of being exposed to Earth's future, and
regard it as no big deal in the overall scheme of things.  Instead,
Rollins was single-mindedly obsessed with the mission of finding Taylor
and the others, and letting that be the end of it.  To Brent, there was
almost something robotic about the commander's fixation with finding
the misanthropic astronaut and his crew.
   Maybe that's the kind of attitude they look for when they pick the
commanders for the crazy missions, he thought to himself.  By the book
men who follow orders down to the letter.
   If that were the case, then Brent knew his chances of earning a
general's star some day were probably non-existent.  Being by-the-book
had never been his style as a combat pilot in Vietnam or as an
astronaut.  It had earned him many awards and decorations through the
years, but never any command-level positions.  He sometimes suspected
that the real reason why his wife had left him was because she couldn't
live with the thought that she'd never become the wife of a general who
commanded large detachments of soldiers, received an appointment to the
Joint Chiefs of Staff or some other cushy slot in the Pentagon, and got
to mingle with all the important people in Washington society circles.
   And if that were true, he wondered if the real reason why he'd
volunteered for this mission was because he'd held some ray of hope
that if he succeeded at it, he'd finally get some of those command
opportunities that had long been denied him.  Maybe the Air Force would
give him a star after all.  Maybe he could fulfill a dream he'd once
had of commanding the entire Strategic Air Command or NORAD.  And maybe
he'd win his wife and his daughter back in the process.
   Brent shook his head and downed another stress pill.  In his effort
to not think about what the future was like, he'd wandered off into the
area of self-analysis more than he ever cared to.  It made him realize
that concentrating on the mission probably wasn't such a bad idea after
all.
   "Still on course?" he finally broke his silence and glanced over at
Fowler.
   The navigator looked up from his console, "According to the
trajectory heading, we'll land somewhere within a twenty-five mile
radius of New York City." he then skipped a beat and added deadpan,
"You think maybe we'll have time to catch a Yankees game and a Broadway
show?"
   The navigator's remark had it's desired effect as both Rollins and
Brent burst out into laughter.
   "We'll see," the commander grinned, "At this point, the season
should be nearing the All Star Break.  Only maybe instead of the
American League against the National League, it's now the Earth League
against the Mars League."
   "If we've really branched out that far," Brent said.
   "I'd be surprised if we haven't," Rollins went back to his monitors,
"After all, we already know that there are advanced technologies down
there."
   The second-in-command looked at him quizzically, "We do?"
   "The UFO's that woke us up," Rollins said, "Those ships could move
faster than anything I'd ever seen before."
   "I wish I'd had a chance to see them," Brent said, "So far, I've
been looking for signs of technology down there and I'm not seeing
any."
   "I don't think tapping into their radio signals is a good idea,"
Rollins said, "If we make contact, what would we say?  Magellan II
spacecraft from the 20th Century requests landing instructions?  Better
that we keep quiet until we land."
   "Agreed," Brent nodded, "But shouldn't we be seeing the lights of
major cities at this point?  And how come there are no signs of
orbiting satellites or space stations?"
   "I have no idea," Rollins said with a nonchalant aura, "And I'm not
about to speculate.  We'll just wait until tomorrow and see what comes
our way."
   "Skipper----" Brent started
   "No speculation, Brent," Rollins said firmly, making it clear that
the conversation was now a closed subject.  "Just get back to your
job."
   The second-in-command rolled his eyes in disbelief, Yes sir.


   Two hundred million miles behind the Magellan II, another craft was
approaching Earth.  This one carrying the four people sent out by the
Galactica to look for the missing patrol.
   "Galactica Core Command, this is Recon Shuttle One." Athena radioed
with the same crisp precision that she flew the shuttle single-handedly
with, "Have cleared the asteroid field and now on clear path trajectory
to Earth.  Estimate intercept time to Earth spacecraft in five
centons."
   "Affirmative Recon Shuttle One," Sheba acknowledged, "We're reaching
a point where it's not a good idea to keep an active transmission
signal open.  As soon as you've made contact with the spacecraft,
please file your last report and assume radio silence until your
return."
   "Understood," Athena nodded, "We aren't going to be returning until
we know exactly what happened to them."
   At the other end, her sister-in-law skipped a beat before answering. 
Athena could almost picture the brief flicker of pained anxiety passing
over Sheba's face.  After all the yahrens that she'd gotten to know her
and love her, she knew that her sister-in-law was not the best when it
came to keeping all of her inner emotions hidden.
   "You're the one who can find them, Athena," the executive officer
finally spoke in a normal, unemotional tone, "Apollo and I have full
confidence in you."
   Athena knew she didn't need to say anything else and switched the
transmitter off.  She checked her scanner and could see the bright red
planet that marked the last one in the system prior to Earth pass by
her on the port side.  The blip on the grid indicated the Earth
spacecraft, still traveling at a very slow pace toward the Earth.
   "Bernabe, Ares," she called over to the two security guards seated
ten feet behind them in the front row of passenger seats, "Could you
please go back and run a full inventory check of our gear?"
   The two guards exchanged glances at each other, indicating that they
both knew that the Major wanted them out of the main compartment for
another reason.
   "Yes, Major," Ares said as he got to his feet.  "Do you want us to
double-check the systems in the landram too?"
   "Good idea," the black-haired major nodded, "We don't get a chance
to use them that often.  If there are any systems shorted out, better
that we find out about them now."
   Ares nodded and headed for the door that led to the rear
compartment, with Bernabe trailing him.  Once they were in the
compartment and had sealed the door again, Ares let out a chuckle.
   "Don't bother making a detailed check," he said, "Athena wants a
private talk with Cassiopeia.  That's why she sent us back here."
   "I sort of figured that," said the young, olive-skinned warrior
who'd been born in space to a Skorpian father and Sagitarian mother,
"What would they not want us to overhear?"
   Ares, who was in his early forties and had a small streak of gray
running across his black hair, folded his arms and smiled, "Probably
some talk about Starbuck.  They've both played a big part in his life."
   The younger guard frowned, "I know all about Starbuck and
Cassiopeia, but where does Athena fit in?"
   "You're too young to remember," Ares said as he put his arm around
the young guard's shoulder the way a father might for his son, and
explained how before Starbuck had married Cassiopeia, he had once been
involved with Athena.
   Ares always enjoyed telling Bernabe stories about the old days, and
about the warriors he'd known over the yahrens.  The older security
guard was an ex-viper pilot who was part of a dwindling breed of
warriors that had served aboard a battlestar other than the Galactica
prior to the Holocaust.  In his case, the Battlestar Columbia which had
been the only other battlestar to survive the Cylon ambush, but had to
be scuttled by the Galactica because it's damage had been too
extensive.  Her commanding officer, Commander Fairfax, had also
survived the Holocaust but soon lost his life a sectan later during the
battle of Carillon when he'd rammed his viper into a Cylon baseship and
contributed to its destruction as the planet blew up.
   At the time, Ares had been a young green cadet of eighteen, flying
in the Columbia's Blue Squadron under Captain Killian.   From the
outset Killian had become his mentor, training him in all aspects of
combat flying, and in time the young cadet had come to love him as a
father-figure.  That had remained true even as Killian, Ares and thirty
additional pilots from the Columbia had been thrust into a new setting
aboard the Galactica in the wake of the Holocaust.  Killian had become
commander of the Galactica's Red Squadron, and Ares continued to
develop as a pilot under his mentor's tutelage, eventually serving with
distinction during the Battle of Kobol when Red Group had been forced
to pick up much of the slack following a mysterious illness that had
incapacitated most of Blue Squadron.  Ares had won a promotion to
Sergeant and seemed on his way to an outstanding career as a viper
pilot.
   But two sectars after the Battle of Kobol, Ares's life was
permanently disrupted when Captain Killian, his mentor, teacher and
idol was killed in action as the result of a massive Cylon laser cannon
on the planet Arcta.  The loss of Killian had devastated his young
protege and taken away all of Ares's desire to fly.  No sooner had the
laser cannon been destroyed that Ares had requested a transfer to the
Colonial Security Forces.  It had meant taking a pay cut, and reduction
in rank back to Cadet, but he didn't care.  Ares had been so close to
Killian, and idolized him as the most indestructible warrior he had
ever known.  From a rational standpoint, he could not accept the
thought that Killian was dead.  And he knew in his heart that he could
never be an effective pilot again if he was always going to be haunted
by the death of his mentor.
   In the twenty-five yahrens since, Ares had performed well in his new
career as a Colonial Security Guard, taking part in ground survey
missions on the many planets that the Galactica had encountered over
the yahrens.  But he had vowed never to set foot in a viper cockpit
again and he'd stuck to that vow even though both Apollo and Starbuck
had always felt that he'd turned his back on the work he'd been best
qualified for.
   Now, he had found himself in a position where he had become the
mentor and father-figure to young Sergeant Bernabe, who had been
partnered with him from the very beginning of the young guard's career. 
Always, the memory of what Killian had meant to Ares lingered within
him, and he had made a determined effort to play the same role to
Bernabe, while simultaneously cautioning the young warrior to not
become too dependent on him.
   This would be the first time that Ares and his protege would be
working together.  And it was an assignment that he knew he was going
to enjoy.


   "I suppose you're wondering why I specifically asked you to come on
the mission," Athena said as soon as the two guards were out of the
compartment.
   Cassiopeia brushed away a lock of her blonde hair that had turned
slightly silvery in the last few yahrens, "The instant I heard who it
was we're looking for, it wasn't too difficult to figure out." she
paused and glanced somewhat suspiciously at her, "Mind you, I'm glad
you asked me to come.  I am anxious to help look for him and Boxey and
Hera."
   "But?" Athena knew the word was on the edge of her tongue.
   The Chief Medical Officer didn't know how to choose her next words. 
Finally, she took a breath and said with considerable caution, "Athena,
if you're thinking that by having me along you can find a way of
forcing Starbuck and me back together, it's not going to work.  I can
be friends with him, but I can never be his wife again."
   "Maybe, maybe not," Athena kept her attention focused ahead of her,
"You never know what the future holds."
   "That's true," she admitted, "But there's too much of a gulf between
us, Athena.  Starbuck can't change what he is."
   "If he's gotten himself into trouble on this mission, it might cause
him to start thinking twice for the first time," the black-haired major
said.
   Cassiopeia didn't feel like saying anything else.  All she could
think of was the strange irony at how Athena was seemingly trying to
force her and Starbuck together again, when the two of them had been
the rivals for Starbuck's affection before he had chosen Cassiopeia.
   She never had the heart to tell Athena that one of the other reasons
why her marriage to Starbuck had dissolved concerned something that had
nothing to do with Starbuck's eccentric habits of gambling, carousing,
etc.  Another reason why their marriage hadn't worked the way they'd
hoped was because Starbuck always felt an underlying feeling of guilt
inside him over dumping Athena for her.  Especially when he noticed
over time how Athena had become a very lonely, withdrawn person for
many yahrens afterwards.
   "Let's just stick to the mission, Athena," Cassiopeia finally said,
"We all want to find them, so let's not give any personal
considerations a further thought."
   "Fair enough," she nodded as she consulted her navigational grid,
"Three centons to contact with the Earth ship.  Let's run a lifescan on
them."
   Cassiopeia pressed several buttons and saw the readout come up.
   "Athena," she frowned, "According to these readings, the crew isn't
sleeping any longer.  Definite indication is that they're moving about
inside."
   "You're sure of that?" Athena lifted an eyebrow.
   "Positive."
   "Hmmmm.  That changes the equation a bit.  I think we're going to
have to make contact with them now." she pressed the unicom button that
opened her transmission to all possible frequencies, "Attention Earth
spacecraft.  This is Major Athena of the Battlestar Galactica.  If you
can hear my signal, please acknowledge.  We are completely friendly and
mean you no harm."
   There was nothing but silence.
   "You think they're listening?" Cassiopeia asked.
   "Can't tell," she said as they drew closer and the blinking lights
of the spacecraft became visible for the first time.  "I may need to
give them a visual signal first."


   Abruptly, the three astronauts were jolted by the sound of the
yellow alert siren which indicated the presence of a nearby ship.
   "Looks like we've got another of those ships I saw coming up,"
Rollins said as he quickly killed the siren, "Fowler, can you get a fix
on where it is?"
   "Coming from astern and fast," the navigator said.  "Indications are
that it's about two hundred feet long.  Can't get any other possible
readings until we see it."
   Both Brent and Rollins were pressing their faces against the cockpit
windows waiting to see if they could catch a glimpse of the fast moving
spacecraft.  After a long, anxious minute they saw it pull up alongside
them, no more than two miles away.
   "That's not the same kind of ship I saw before," the commander
noted, "Clearly from a different classification."
   "They seem to be watching us," Brent observed with a trace of
trepidation.  "Look how they slowed down to match our own speed."
   Rollins stared at the rectangular shaped craft and took a breath,
"Fowler, activate all radio lines.  Let's find out if they're trying to
say anything to us or to Earth.  But don't answer them."
   "All lines activated," Fowler nodded.
   The three  astronauts only heard a faint crackle of static at first. 
And then, all of their heads perked up at the sound of a feminine voice
filling the cockpit.
   "--tention Earth spacecraft.  This is Major Athena of the Battlestar
Galactica.  If you can hear my signal, please acknowledge.  We are
completely friendly and mean you no harm."
   The three astronauts traded dubious glances with each other.
   "They're calling us an Earth spacecraft?" Fowler's eyes widened,
"Why would they do that if they're from Earth?"
   "I think the answer to that is obvious," Brent said, not believing
that another curve was being thrown at them, "They're not from Earth,
and they think we're part of what Earth is now."  He turned his
attention to Rollins, "This creates a bit of an awkward situation,
doesn't it, Skipper?"
   "It does," Rollins nodded and rubbed his chin, "I think we're going
to have to be honest with them." the commander then went over to his
console and flicked several switches before picking up the microphone.
   "Attention spacecraft, this is Colonel Philip Rollins, commander of
the U.S.S. Magellan II.  We acknowledge your message, and request that
you state the nature of your intentions and your mission."
   There was a brief silence as they waited to see if the ship would
answer.  The wait was not long.
   "Colonel, we thank you for answering us.  Our mission is entirely
peaceful.  We are emissaries of a brother tribe of humanity that wishes
to make contact with the people of Earth."
   "Skipper, I think our dilemma just got even more awkward," Fowler
said.
   "Indeed," the commander nodded.  "Now all of a sudden we're about to
become diplomats."
   He spoke into the microphone again, "Major Athena, we understand and
accept your message.  However, I'm afraid that we can't render
assistance to you as official emissaries.  Although we are from Earth,
we are involved in a complicated mission that has taken us from Earth's
distant past.  We strongly suggest that you attempt to make contact
with any communication stations on Earth itself."


   Aboard the shuttle, the expressions of shock and disbelief were
evident on both Athena and Cassiopeia, as well as Bernabe and Ares, who
had returned from the rear compartment.
   "Did they say what I think I heard them say?" Cassiopeia shook her
head in disbelief.
   "I heard it," Athena nodded, "They said they're from Earth's past. 
That they're not involved with what's down there now."
   "A planet with no signs of technology," Cassiopeia said, as the
reality of the situation hit her, "No wonder we were so confused."
   "That settles one question of what we're up against down there,"
Athena said as she hit her transmitter again, "Spacecraft Magellan II,
we thank you for the information.  Request that you stand by for now. 
We will be contacting you again shortly."
   Ten seconds later, a clear reply came back, "Understood.  Standing
by for now."
   Athena then activated her long-range scrambler, "Recon Shuttle One
to Galactica Core Command.  Priority One Alert.  I say again, Priority
One Alert."
   A micron later, Sheba's voice filled the shuttle's interior.  "This
is Core Command.  What's your status?"
   "Sheba," Athena drew in her breath, "Is Apollo on the bridge?"
   "Yes."
   "Tie him in to this, please.  It's urgent."
   There was a pause as Athena knew that Sheba was handing the
Commander a second headset. 
   "We're both tied in, Athena," her brother's voice said with concern,
"What's the situation?"
   "Apollo, I haven't got much time.  We've made contact with the
spacecraft.  Their crew is already awake from their sleep mode."
   "That's good," Apollo said, "Have you gotten anything out of them?"
   "Yes," Athena's voice grew flat, "Apollo, they say they're from
Earth's past.  Distant past.  They've come through some kind of time
barrier."
   The silence that filled the shuttle was the most deafening any of
the four people could remember.  They knew there was shock and
disbelief setting in on both the Commander and the Executive Officer.
   "Commander, I think nothing else needs to be said about which
Contingency Plan to break out," Athena radioed, her voice betraying no
emotion whatsoever, "Plan 3A, a primitive Earth with no technology is
going to have to be it."
   "Yes," she could hear her brother clearing his throat, summoning all
the professionalism he could muster, "All right, stay with them Athena. 
Find out as much as you possibly can, and maybe you can get that crew
to help in the search for Blue Patrol."
   "Affirmative," Athena could feel the emotional anxiety her brother
was going through, stretching across the reaches of space, "Signing off
for now."
   

   "You think they believe us?" Fowler had made his way over beside
Rollins's position, where the Commander was waiting to see when the
shuttle would send another message to them.
   "I don't know," the commander refused to speculate, "She sounds
friendly enough.  And if she's really human, that'll be a break for
us."
   "Humans not of this world," Brent shook his head in amazement,
"Someone tell me I'm dreaming."
   Just then, the static burst went up, indicating that a new message
was coming through, "Magellan II, this is Alpha Shuttlecraft of the
Battlestar Galactica.  If at all possible, we would like to stay with
you and discuss the possibility of working together on our respective
mission objectives once we land on Earth."
   Rollins lifted an eyebrow, "Uh, I think you said your name was
Major, ah...."
   "Major Athena."
   "Ah, Major Athena, I know this is hard to explain but we would not
be of much help to you if your goal is to contact the governments that
presently exist on Earth.  We come from her distant past and are on a
mission to rescue some friends of ours who also came through the time
barrier to our planet's future.  Once we accomplish that, we plan to
return to our time.  Again, we recommend that you contact Earth
directly."
   There was a brief pause before Athena responded.
   "Colonel Philip Rollins," she said the name as though it were one
word, which she had assumed it was since there were no surnames in
Colonial culture, "Is your craft capable of making scans of the planet
to determine what exists down there?"
   "Negative, Major," Rollins said as his fellow astronauts felt an
uneasy twinge inside them, "We're a very primitive spacecraft in terms
of our ability to take readings from up here."
   The sound of Athena letting out an uneasy exhale could be heard
before she spoke again.
   "I think, Colonel, that you and I have some important information we
need to share with each other," she was choosing her words with all the
careful precision of a skilled diplomat, summoning the instincts that
had served her father well for so many yahrens as a member and
President of the Council of Twelve.  "I will begin first by telling you
what it is we know about the Earth, as it is now."
   With that, a remarkable conversation between the two spacecrafts had
begun that would last unabated for the next twelve hours right up to
the point when both ships would land on the blue planet beneath them.


   Far away aboard the Galactica, both Apollo and Sheba had retreated
to his quarters.  The commander was grim-faced as he pulled out a
sealed folder from the lower-most drawer of his desk.
   "This is the one I didn't want to ever have to contemplate using,"
he sighed as he held the folder up, "Contingency Plan 3A."
   Seated across from him, Sheba found herself feeling more
philosophical than she'd expected herself to.  The events of the day
had forced her to think harder about the scenario than she ever had at
any other point in her life, and that meant that the news from Athena
hadn't been as much of a shock to her.
   "I guess the Ship Of Lights is putting us through another test
again," she finally spoke up, "The most difficult one we could have
hoped to face."
   "Especially with the Cylons right on our backs," Apollo grunted as
he broke the seal on the folder and spilled its contents out onto his
desk.  "All right Sheba, let's you and I get to work and start
assessing our options for what we do after the Patrols come back."
   His wife came up to him and gently squeezed his hand.
   "Apollo," her voice had an edge of longing to it, "This has been the
most difficult day of our lives, with our children missing and every
dream we've had about Earth shattered.  Before we do anything else,
I....." she trailed off, unable to say anything else.
   For the first time all day, Apollo allowed himself a little smile.
   "At this point, one lousy centar to ourselves can't hurt," he said
as he got up from his chair and took her in his arms, "We've earned the
right to it."

                    Chapter Six

   Boxey made certain that his goggles were at the highest possible
setting as he slowly descended into the black void that loomed before
him.  The cave's incline seemed to descend at a forty-five degree
angle.  Just enough to tell him that if he wasn't careful he could end
up sliding down to the bottom and losing all of his precious survival
gear in the process.
   He had gone more than a hundred feet when he felt the ground beneath
him level off to an even plane.  He had reached the bottom of the cave. 
Around him, he could begin to make out the contours of the rock
formations surrounding him.  Ahead of him, he could tell that the
blackness was starting to dissipate slightly.  There seemed to be an
unnatural glow in the distance.  Whether it was caused by artificial
lights or something else, he couldn't tell.
   The Galactica warrior kept his steps slow and gentle as he made his
way toward the brighter area.  He didn't even bother using his scanner
at this point.  If it wasn't dead, as he suspected it wasn't, then
whatever existed down here, wasn't going to let him take a reading.
   He felt his foot brush against what seemed like a rock.  But when he
glanced down, he felt a chill go through him when he saw that it was a
human skull, still attached to an incomplete skeleton.  So brittle were
the bones, that Boxey's brief contact had shattered the entire right
side into dust.
   Lovely, he thought grimly as he moved on.  The light was steadily
getting brighter.  Cautiously, he lifted his goggles and saw that the
same reddish glow he'd seen through the infra-red was what also filled
the cave's interior.  All of it emanating from where the cave's path
veered off to the left.  To the right, there was no glow at all.
   Nothing natural is causing this, he thought.  It's as though they've
made it this way so I can find my way around.  As if it's telling me to
go that way.    
   He took the turn to the left and found himself descending another
forty-five degree slope for approximately fifty feet.  When he reached
the bottom, he saw to his amazement that he'd stumbled into a vast,
cathedral-like opening, with no barriers for as far as the eye could
see, and the natural ceiling representing the surface of the planet
more than five hundred feet above.  And lining the interior of the open
space were the clear indications of ruins.  Ruins of some bygone
civilization.
   Boxey had seen holopictures brought back from the mother planet
Kobol, where his mother Serina had met her death, and had often
marveled at the sight of the ancient ruins they had depicted.  Even
after 7000 yahrens, the ruins of Kobol still possessed an aura of
stately grandeur to them that conjured up the vision of a once proud
civilization.  That wasn't the case with these ruins.  They had a
dirty, seedy quality of neglect to them, as though whatever
civilization this had once been was hiding itself in shame from the
world that existed now.
   He shut off his mind from posing any of the questions that he might
have asked upon seeing these ruins.  So far, the Earth had been so full
of unexpected surprises that he was past the point where he felt he
could make any reasonable inferences about anything.
   He could see the broken columns of walls rising up from the ground
and tapering off at a point no more than twenty feet high, suggesting
that there had once been a building situated here.  A, flat stone
surface suggested that this had once been some kind of floor or walkway
for the building.  Acres of rotted paper debris lined the floor.  Boxey
didn't bother picking any of it up.  There was no chance of being able
to read any of it in these conditions.
   To his left, he could see the floor disappear and could see  tiny
columns of twisted metal snaking up from dead, stagnant overgrowth.  It
almost seemed to Boxey that the metal columns were neatly aligned into
twelve separate rows as though they had once been roadways for
transport vehicles of some kind.
   He was tempted to see where those pathways led to, but he noticed
that the red glow that had guided him in didn't cast its light in that
direction.  Instead, it continued to shine from deeper inside the
chamber, as though it were telling him to move that way.
   For now, he was going to go wherever it led to.  He resumed walking
across the stone surface and could see some more pieces of wreckage
bolted down to the floor.  He stopped beside each piece trying to gauge
what it was.  First he noticed the rusted remains of an iron gate
extending across the rest of the perimeter.  At various intervals, he
could see some rectangular shaped posts dotting the surface, as though
there was one for each of the roadways he'd seen.  He came up to one of
them, and stared at it for a long time.  There was clearly some writing
on it.  Not engraved writing.  It was as if someone had attached some
raised letters and numbers in an arrangement.  Some of them had fallen
away over the many yahrens of neglect, making what they spelled and
said even more incomprehensible to Boxey.  But if he were making an
educated guess, it almost reminded him of a primitive kind of
transportation timetable.

     NEW JERSEY TRANSIT
     HOBOKEN STATION
     TRACK 3 
     DOVER EXPRESS      5:43
      NEWARK
      MAPLEWOOD
      MILBURN
      SHORT HILLS
      SUMMIT
      CHATHAM
      MADISON
      CONVENT STATION
      MORRISTOWN
      DOVER

   This had to be some kind of station like the Aerodromes that he
could remember as a child on Caprica during the pre-Holocaust days. 
But it didn't look as though it serviced air transportation.  It seemed
more like it handled ground transportation.  Primitive ground
transportation that the Colonies hadn't used for at least several
thousand yahrens.
   A blast of cool air suddenly came up from somewhere behind him.  He
turned around and saw that it came from an opening where the red glow
was at its brightest.  Without giving the sign another thought, he
headed towards the opening and could see an intact stairway leading
down.  Above the stairway, a grimy sign still hung from the top of the
opening.  PATH TRAINS TO 33rd STREET.
   Boxey descended the steps and found himself on a platform
overlooking two sets of roadway tracks, each one leading into a tunnel
that stretched far off into the distance.  He noticed that the one on
the right, which said JOURNAL SQUARE/WORLD TRADE CENTER TRAINS led off
into a void of total blackness.  The one on the left though, which was
marked by a sign that said 33rd STREET TRAINS was where the red glow
still continued to cast its beckoning light.
   The Galactica warrior took a deep breath as he dropped ten feet down
to the vegetation covered track surface, and began his journey into the
silent tunnel.


   Hera felt relieved that Earth's moon was shining above her, as she
made her way through the tall field grass in a westerly direction. 
Without nightvision goggles, it was difficult to be certain which way
she was going.  The moon's glow at least enabled her to stay on a
straight path through the field grass and not make a wrong turn back
into one of the two forests bordering the area.
   Her respite had left her well-rested to the point where she had
little trouble maintaining a quick, running pace.  After sprinting more
than two miles, she didn't even feel out of breath as she stopped to
take a scan reading, making sure that the silencer was on so there
wouldn't be any loud pings that would attract attention to her.
   It only took a half-micron for contacts to register.  As soon as she
pointed her scanner toward the northwest, the readings began dancing
about wildly, indicating a large concentration of lifeforms.  Some
human, but mostly non-human.
   That has to be it, she looked ahead.  Keep going through the field
for another two miles, and then go through one more forest region.  The
so-called Ape City was certain to be on the other side.
   And one thing was certain in her mind.  She was going to bring
Starbuck out of there, or join him as a prisoner of the siminoids.


   "Won't you sit down?" Zira motioned toward the large chair in the
middle of the living room.
   Starbuck stared at her and Cornelius with the same air of guarded
suspicion he'd been showing since he'd been led out by the leash from
Dr. Zaius's office.
   "I'd be happy to," he finally spoke, "Would it be too much though if
I could have these stupid things off?" he raised his manacled hands.
   Zira nodded, "Of course.  Cornelius?"
   Her husband hesitated at first, since he wasn't as confident as Zira
that kindness was going to have much of an impact on someone as
eccentric as Starbuck.  But he wasn't in the mood to provoke her at
this point, so he stepped up and untied the ropes around Starbuck's
wrists.
   "Thank you," the human sighed with relief as he held up his freed
arms and stretched them a bit before sitting down.
   "Get him something to eat, dear," Zira motioned to Cornelius, "We
should have some salad in the preserver."
   Cornelius nodded and disappeared into the kitchen while Zira sat
down in the chair directly across from Starbuck.
   "Starbuck," she put her furry hands on her knees, "Try to understand
that Cornelius and I want to be your friends and do what we can to help
you get away from this place.  You wouldn't be the first human we've
helped escape."
   "This Taylor person?" Starbuck kept his tone neutral, hoping that he
could get as much information as he possibly could about any
intelligent humans on this planet.
   "Yes," she nodded, "I'm really surprised you don't know him."
   "I explained that.  I don't know a single person on this planet."
   "Oh come now," Cornelius said with disgust as he emerged from the
kitchen holding a salad bowl filled with lettuce, carrots and tomatoes. 
"Taylor said the same silly thing about traveling through space from
another planet.  It's a scientific absurdity."
   Starbuck took the bowl from Cornelius along with a fork and began to
eat very carefully.  As soon as he had finished three bites, he looked
up at him quizzically.  "This Taylor person said he traveled through
space too?"
   "He did," Zira glared slightly at her husband, "He spoke of flying
through space in a ship from a distant planet and crashing in the
Inland Sea, in the Forbidden Zone."
   "Utter nonsense!" Cornelius snorted, "I think Taylor was suffering
some memory lapse from his wounds.  We know he came from the Forbidden
Zone, just as you must as well."
   As soon as Starbuck realized how good the vegetables tasted, he
began to rapidly devour the rest of the bowl's contents.  When it was
empty, he handed the bowl and fork back to Cornelius.
   "Let me ask you something, pal," Starbuck felt some of his strength
coming back, "What makes you think he wasn't telling the truth?  Just
because siminoids don't know how to fly through space doesn't mean that
someone else hasn't figured out how that's done."
   "Ridiculous!" Cornelius wrinkled his muzzle.
   "I could always show you the three ships my friends and I came in,"
he leaned forward, "And within a few days, I can guarantee you that
there's going to be more people in flying machines tearing this planet
up to look for us."
   "Starbuck, that's why you must help us," an edge of urgency entered
Zira's voice, "Your friends, wherever they come from, can not make
their presence known in Ape City.  If the gorillas see them, they will
mobilize our society for total war.  We can't let that happen!"
   "Zira," Starbuck said in a polite, but pointed tone, "When they
come, you won't have to worry about your society because the war would
be a total massacre in our favor.  If those primitive numo guns
represent the best your society has to offer, then it wouldn't take us
more than a few days to overrun the lot of you."
   The two chimpanzees stiffened in horror in their chairs.  An angry
scowl came over Cornelius's face, while Zira seemed merely shocked.
   "Starbuck," she whispered, "You don't mean that."
   "I do," he said bluntly, "Even if I didn't feel like doing that, I
can guarantee that there are others, whether in our chain-of-command,
or on our governing Council, who will immediately demand that your
whole society be leveled.  And nothing I say or do is going to change
that."
   "You are a barbarian!" Cornelius said angrily, "How can you think of
doing such a thing?"
   Starbuck gave him a faint smirk with the faintest tinge of
malevolence, "I think that when you see brother members of your own
race hunted down like animals and then locked up in cages, carried
around on leashes, and then discover that a girl you've known since the
day she was born and raised like a niece was shot down in cold blood,
it doesn't leave much room for other options in your mind."
   "We'd be more than happy to leave your kind alone, if you will
simply stay away from our city!" Cornelius said, "Live and let live,
Starbuck.  Find other opportunities elsewhere for your race."
   "Not when I see our brothers treated the way you treat them,"
Starbuck said coldly, "My oath as a Captain in the Colonial Military,
swears to protect and defend human life against all its enemies that
seek to destroy and enslave humanity.  Up until now, I've only had to
honor that oath against one despicable race.  But there are qualities
in your race that almost make me think it's worse."
   "Starbuck," it took all the self-control Zira had ever mustered in
her life to keep from losing her temper, "Please.  Let's both stop
making speeches at each other and just agree to share what we know to
each other.  If we all know where we stand, we can settle this matter
and you can be freed this very night."
   "Where I come from, I don't believe in showing all my cards ahead of
time," Starbuck said, "And since you've already indicated that you're
not going to accept me for what I am, there's little point in my saying
anything else."
   "All right Starbuck, suppose I said that I believe you when you say
you came from another planet," Zira decided to try a new tact, "Would
that help?"
   "Zira!" Cornelius looked at his wife in amazement.
   "It'd be a start," Starbuck leaned back in the chair.  "But I'd like
to hear more about this Taylor person first."
   A man of considerably more dignity than you, Cornelius thought.
   "Very well," Zira felt that if she made the first move, it might
build some trust, "Taylor was a remarkable man.  We found him one day
after he'd been captured during one of the gorillas' hunt...."
   It took Zira almost fifteen minutes to effectively summarize the
whole story about Taylor as they had seen it.  When the two chimpanzees
had finished, Starbuck was looking both philosophical and downcast.
   "So you're saying there was once a large human civilization of some
kind in this so-called Forbidden Zone."
   "Yes," Cornelius nodded, "My findings indicated that the human
civilization was overrun no later than a thousand years ago.  The point
in time when our Lawgiver wrote the Sacred Scrolls documenting the rise
of Ape Civilization."
   The Galactica warrior rubbed his chin, "I'm beginning to see how it
fits," he whispered, "I couldn't understand how, but...."
   "But what?" Zira asked.
   "The Thirteenth Tribe destroyed itself," Starbuck said aloud to
himself, and not to them
   "What?" Cornelius pressed, "What are you talking about?"
   Starbuck looked them both in the eye, "Zira," he said, "If you
believe me when I say that I come from a race of humans that has
traveled in space, then you will believe this.  My people were
journeying to this planet in search of a brother tribe of humanity that
first settled this planet more than 7000 of our yahrens, what I think
you would call 'years' ago.  If what you say is true, then it seems
that my people have arrived more than a thousand yahrens too late."
   "You mean even far away on that other planet, you were aware of the
ancient civilization?"  the archeologist was amazed.
   "Yes," Starbuck said flatly, "And that is why my people can not just
stand idly by and permit humans to be treated as you treat them.  They
are our brothers.  Descendants of the very same people that I am
descended from."
   "But Starbuck," Zira protested, "You have to see things from our
perspective.  Before Taylor, there was never any reason to believe that
humans were capable of the same intelligence as apes.  Only Dr. Zaius
and his predecessors know the truth, and they've kept that hidden from
our society.  When the rest of us guide humans around on a leash, it's
because we haven't know any better."
   "How do you treat apes or 'siminoids' as you call them, in your
society, Starbuck?" Cornelius zeroed in.  "In all likelihood, you treat
them far worse than we treat humans."
   "Only because where I come from, siminoids are beasts of prey who
enjoy killing all other species they come across."  Starbuck retorted. 
"And that's the chief reason why we didn't bring any with us when we
began our journey."
   "Why did you leave your home?" Zira tried to steer the conversation
back, "Why would you travel so far across space just to find this
planet?"
   "Very complicated story," Starbuck said, "Suffice to say, you will
soon realize that you're going to need humans to become your protectors
instead of your enemies.  And if that's going to happen, you're going
to have to have your society change it's tune when it comes to treating
humans."
   "And why would we need 'protection' from humans?" Cornelius didn't
bother concealing his contempt.
   "Because there's another race that hates humans even more than you
siminoids do," Starbuck found himself grinning malevolently, "And
should they end up finding this planet, they'll treat you with about as
much compassion as they show towards us.  The only reason why we've
been searching for our brothers is because of what our enemy did to our
home planets."
   And for the next fifteen minutes, it was Starbuck's turn to
monopolize the conversation, with a telescopic account of the war
between humanity and the Cylon Empire, the Holocaust and the Exodus. 
When he was finished, the incredulous expressions on both Cornelius and
Zira were greater than any that Starbuck could ever have recalled
seeing on any living creature in his life.  They had the same
expressions he might have expected to see if he had declared that he
was God Himself.
   "You're talking about a race of.....automatic machines?" Cornelius
found the concept of the Cylon race to be the most incredible aspect of
Starbuck's account.
   "Modified to the human/siminoid bipedal model," Starbuck wished he
had a fumarello he could take a satisfied puff on, "Not capable of much
independent thought, but programmed to exterminate all life forms and
make the entire known universe a race of machine efficiency.  They're
searching for us, and they're searching for this planet, Earth."
   "If they are your enemy, I can almost envision warriors like Ursus
attempting to forge an alliance with them," Zira said.
   "And they just might be able to do that.  But only temporarily,"
Starbuck said emphatically, "The Cylons don't keep long-standing
alliances with anyone.  Once an ally outlives his usefulness, he is
disposed of."
   At that point, Cornelius threw up his arms in exasperation and began
angrily pacing about the living room.
   "Zira, why are we indulging this deranged fool with his nonsensical
claptrap?" he demanded, "Do you really think Dr. Zaius would believe
this?"
   "It doesn't matter if he believes it or not," Starbuck said coolly,
"It happens to be the truth."
   "Ridiculous!" the archeologist snorted, "You're protecting your own
people who live in the Forbidden Zone.  Well the only way you can
protect them, and yourself Starbuck, is to promise to go back and tell
them to stay away from Ape City!"
   "Sorry," Starbuck shook his head, "No can do."
   "You're signing your death warrant, Starbuck," Cornelius said
pointedly, "Do you know what Dr. Zaius meant when he talked about
having you destroyed?"
   "I have some ideas."
   "Tell him Zira," Cornelius looked at his wife, "Tell him what Dr.
Zaius did to Taylor's talking friend.  The one he called Landon."
   Zira swallowed uneasily and seem visibly uncomfortable.
   "Well---" she started and then stopped.
   "Tell him!" Cornelius repeated.
   The psychologist took a breath, "Experimental brain surgery."
   "I can handle that," Starbuck felt comfortable enough to make a
comeback, "I've been slipping in my IQ tests lately anyway."
   "This is no joke!" Zira raised her voice with concern, "Brain
surgery that would rob you of your intelligence completely!  You'd be a
walking animal just like all the other humans we know."
   "Followed by castration to insure that no other intelligent humans
are ever recreated," Cornelius put in.
   Starbuck tried not to flinch, "I think I'll pass."
   "Then save yourself, Starbuck!" Zira found herself pleading.  She'd
seen a lot in this human that was crude and eccentric in comparison to
what she'd seen in Taylor, but she still found him strangely likable in
an odd sort of way.  "Please, cooperate!  Whether you come from the
Forbidden Zone or from another planet, just have your people stay away
and find someplace else to settle.  Some other planet perhaps!"
   "That decision is not mine to make," the Galactica warrior's voice
became dead serious again, "And knowing our leader as I do, he's not
going to abandon this planet that easily.  But even if it were my
decision, I know I'd do the same thing.  The persecution of a single
human, whether intelligent or not, is something that my society can not
stand for."
   Zira let out a sigh and slouched down in her chair, suggesting that
she felt defeated.
   "I can't do anything more for you, Starbuck," she said with regret,
"I've done what I can.  If you don't do as Zaius says, then he has no
choice but to go ahead with the surgery.  General Ursus can't have any
proof to give to the Assembly."
   "You'd only be buying yourself very little time," Starbuck retorted,
"Because my people are going to arrive in larger numbers very soon, and
like it or not, your society can not defeat us.  The only message I can
take to my Commander and our Council is that there might be some of you
willing to negotiate with us as friends we can work with."
   "Starbuck, we can't do that!" Cornelius said, "Dr. Zaius and the
orangutans are the ones who control the Ruling Class.  Their hatred for
humans is only slightly less than that of the gorillas.  If it were up
to me, I'd probably take that up.  But we chimpanzees are powerless!"
   "Are you?" Starbuck decided to go on the offensive, "If a gorilla
like Ursus can make an argument before the Assembly, then why not
chimpanzees like you?  Make a speech of your own calling for peace and
accommodation with humans instead of war."
   "There's no way it would work," the archeologist's voice grew grave,
"Chimpanzees have always been too docile by instinct.  We...lack the
fire to be leaders."
   Zira suddenly glared at her husband.
   "You lack the fire to lead and do unpleasant tasks!" she slammed her
furry paw against the arm of her chair, "But maybe Starbuck is right. 
Maybe it's time we chimpanzees did take matters into our own hands. 
And maybe the opportunity for doing that is letting Starbuck live so we
can make a case of our own before the Assembly."
   "We'd be risking prison, Zira!" Cornelius shot back.
   "Not if we get others to act with us!" the psychologist got up from
her chair and thoughtfully looked Starbuck over.  
   "Starbuck," she said quietly, "If we were able to hide you for the
next two days before the Assembly, you'd be safe from Dr. Zaius.  And
then when the Assembly meets, we could have you be there so we can make
the case that we need to meet your people in friendship instead of
war."
   "But you can't guarantee my safety beyond that," the warrior noted,
"And besides, if you had me hidden, what would be there to stop me from
just walking away back to my ship?"
   "Starbuck, please," Zira almost pleaded, "If you don't help us at
least, then you will be destroyed.  Dr. Zaius won't spare your life
unless you tell him things that you won't, or can't tell about the
Forbidden Zone.  But if you let us hide you so we can produce you at
the Assembly, we have a chance."
   "What do you need me for anyway?"
   "Because we can't get anywhere with the Assembly unless you're
there," Zira said, "And I can't recruit any allies amongst the
chimpanzees unless they get a chance to talk to you beforehand."
   Starbuck glared at them both.  There was one part of him that told
him he should take a chance trusting Zira.  But he was still too filled
with anger over the death of Hera and his innate revulsion for
siminoids in general to be willing to do that.
   "You just want to use me as a tool," he said flatly, "Either way,
whether it's the gorillas or you, I'm just a pawn in a power struggle."
   "Which way would you rather be used, Starbuck?" Zira folded her
arms, "Our way, you have a chance.  Their way, you're either a dead man
or a walking dead man.  Show some sense, for God's sake!"
   It was almost beyond Starbuck's comprehension that creatures as ugly
as these could be invoking the name of the Supreme Deity.  He continued
glaring at them both and kept silent.
   "Zira, he's hopeless," Cornelius said, "You won't get anything out
of this one."
   "Perhaps," his wife conceded, "Perhaps not.  Maybe a few hours with
his fellow humans will make him see why he should cooperate with us." 
   Starbuck started to rise from his chair, but before he was half-way
up, Cornelius abruptly pulled out a pistol from his tunic that he'd
kept hidden up until this point.
   "Don't even try," the archeologist said coldly.  He kept the pistol
aimed at Starbuck's chest while Zira went over and reattached the
manacles to the human's hands.
   "Where am I off to now?" the sarcasm dripped heavily from Starbuck's
voice.
   "To my laboratory," Zira said as she tightened the bonds, "That's
where I keep all the humans I experiment on.  Spend the night with
them, Starbuck and maybe you'll see why it's imperative that your best
interest is to cooperate with us."
   "Sounds lovely," he said, "How much do you charge for a night's
stay?"
   Zira said nothing as she clamped the muzzle over Starbuck's mouth
and pulled it back so he was incapable of uttering a sound.
   "Thank you," Cornelius said with relief, "This is one talking human
I don't care to hear from much longer."
   "I'm sorry I have to do this," Zira ignored her husband and finished
securing the manacles and muzzle, "But if you utter a sound while
you're in your cell, then you'll be destroyed on the spot."
   A moment later, Starbuck again felt himself being pulled about on a
leash, wondering what sin he'd committed against the Lord to bring this
about.

   Boxey estimated that he'd gone a mile inside the dark tunnel, and
wondered how it was possible that he wasn't suffocating after going so
far and so deep underground.  But no sooner had he expressed that
thought when he felt another blast of cool air come from somewhere far
off in the distance.
   I am being watched, he thought.  And whatever it is that's guided me
inside is also trying to reassure me that it's perfectly safe.
   But watched by what?  Siminoids?  Humans?  Or, God forbid, something
else?  Something that would make this planet even more hideous than it
already was?
   He stopped in his tracks when he saw that the tunnel was blocked by
the remains of one of the transport vehicles that had once traveled
through these tunnels.  They almost had the same symmetrical contours
as an ancient skybus.  But these vehicles had been meant for travel on
the ground, not through the air.
   Which meant that whatever civilization this had been, had never
gotten further than the equivalent of the fifth millennia in terms of
Colonial technology.
   He knew he would have to make his way through the remains of the
craft and see if he could resume his trek on the other side.   Feeling
relieved that the pain in his leg wasn't as bothersome as it had been,
he hoisted himself up onto the platform of the vehicle.  There had once
been a door of some kind, but it had long since fallen away and he was
able to enter the compartment.
   He saw two rows of bench-like seats on both sides of the
compartment, and what looked like the rusted remains of hand straps
above the seats, probably for the benefit of passengers who weren't
able to use the seats when the vehicle was crowded.
   There were large amounts of paper debris littering the floor and
faded pictures of what reminded him of advertising slogans lining the
walls.  Across one seat was a yellowed object that almost reminded him
of what a news journal looked like.  As the son of a renowned
journalist, he had made a point of studying the history of journalism
and communications when he was growing up.
   He picked it up and tried to see if it was legible under the dim
light of the red glow.  There was a bold headline across the top that
Boxey guessed was the name of the news journal: NEW YORK TIMES.  Next
to it, a slogan that said in smaller type, "All The News That's Fit To
Print."
   That answers one question, he thought.  The name of this city was
New York.
   He could see numbers that didn't seem to mean anything.  January 17,
1998.  But underneath that, was a boldly written paragraph that he knew
designated the way of highlighting a major story.  U.S. RECALLS
AMBASSADOR FROM MOSCOW.  PUBLIC BRACES OVER POSSIBLE WAR SCARE.
   War, he thought with a sense of horror.  Was that what had destroyed
this civilization, long ago?  War amongst the humans that had
constituted the Thirteenth Tribe?
   It seemed all too likely.  If this was the last news journal anyone
aboard this transport had been able to read, then it seemed all too
likely that war had come.
   And did that explain why siminoids now ran the planet?
   He tossed the paper aside and made his way to the end of the
compartment.  His face fell slightly when he realized that this
compartment was adjacent to another.
   This is going to take longer than I thought, he grunted as he pulled
open a sliding door that connected the two compartments.  But there's
no turning back at this point.


   "Keep your eye on this one, Lucius," Cornelius said as soon as the
cell door inside Zira's laboratory zoo had been closed and Starbuck
shoved inside.  "Above all, make certain his muzzle doesn't come off. 
If he shows any sign of making a sound, you're to use a tranquilizer
immediately."
   Zira's teenaged nephew, who worked as a lab assistant frowned, "Why
would he----" then stopped as he realized what Cornelius meant.  "You
mean he's like Taylor?"
   "Keep your voice down," Cornelius said angrily, "Just don't take
your eyes off him until morning.  Zira and I will pick him up then."
   "What does this mean?" the young chimpanzee protested.
   "Not now," his uncle said sternly, "After it's all over, we'll
explain."
   "Come on!" Lucius protested, "I've been as involved with the whole
Taylor thing as much as you and Zira have."
   "Lucius, your youthful rebelliousness is an admirable trait in many
respects," Cornelius gently admonished, "But for tonight, it does you
no credit.  Just watch him and make sure he doesn't say anything.  And
don't breathe a word about what he is to anyone who shows up here,
especially anyone from the Ministry of Science."
   "Very well," Lucius shrugged bitterly, "I'll watch.  Where are you
and Zira off to?"
   "Some important meetings with friends," the archeologist said
cryptically, "That's all."
   Cornelius turned and departed the room.  Alone, Lucius sat down in
the chair situated in the middle of the compound.  It enabled him to
keep an eye on all of the humans kept inside the various cages
throughout the room.  This night, there were nine humans, six male,
three female sprawled across the bales of straw that had been set up in
each cage.  It was always customary after each hunt to bring a quota of
humans to the Animal Research Center for analysis and study.  After
conducting various experiments, Zira would then pair up various males
and females for mating purposes to conduct further studies on the
offspring.
   The less fortunate humans, those who performed badly in the
experiments or exhibited violent tendencies, invariably ended up
dissected for medical research.
   The young chimpanzee spent an hour reading a copy of the information
scrolls that were distributed every day to provide news of upcoming
events in Ape City.  Then, it became time to distribute the food to the
humans.  Each one was entitled to one piece of fruit and a lump of
sugar.  "Energy sustenance", his aunt had described it.
   As he handed out the food, he was greeted to a process that always
repeated itself.  A human violently rising from his perch inside his
cave.  Clawing madly at the bars with hands outstretched and then
clutching the proffered food and devouring it with the instincts of a
carnivore.
   When he came to the most recent arrival though, he took note of how
Starbuck simply remained planted where he was, and made no effort to
get up and take the food.  The fact that he was bound and muzzled
shouldn't have stopped him, unless he was exactly what Lucius had
suspected he was.
   A mischievous smile came over the young chimpanzee's face as he took
out his keys and unlocked Starbuck's cell door.  He came over to the
grizzled warrior and calmly removed his manacles.
   "I'll tell you what," Lucius said, "I'll remove your muzzle if you
promise not to talk if anyone else enters the room.  Deal?"
   Starbuck vigorously nodded and held up his arms to re-emphasize his
acceptance.  Lucius then took hold of the muzzle string and undid it.
   "Ahhh," Starbuck grunted and rubbed his chin which had been
blistered from the muzzle's tightness, "Thanks."
   "Don't mention it," Lucius shrugged as he deposited the fruit and
sugar and made a quick exit from the cell, remembering to lock it
again.  The Galactica warrior picked it up and devoured it quickly, and
moved over to the bars.
   "What'd you do that for anyway?" Starbuck cautiously spoke up.
   "I get bored easily with this job," Lucius said, "I only took it to
make my aunt feel happy.  I might as well have someone to talk to, to
pass the night away."  he then seemed to smirk, "And besides, I was
once told by someone just like you to never trust anyone over thirty
and to keep the flags of discontent flying."
   "Lucky for you, I'm not sleepy," Starbuck said as he looked about at
the sad spectacle of all the other humans locked in their cages.  "Are
they all like this?"
   "All humans?" Lucius looked about, "Actually, these are the best of
the lot.  You have to be in a special classification to be examined by
the staff here."
   "And the ones who don't come here?"
   "The gorillas keep the bulk of them for target practice exercises."
   Starbuck shook his head in amazed disgust as he rubbed the back of
his stiff neck.  He then noticed that Lucius had pulled out what looked
like a fumarello to him and was preparing to light it.
   "Hey," Starbuck motioned, "You wouldn't have any extras of those,
would you?"
   Lucius stopped before he lit it and frowned, "You smoke?"
   "Those are my favorite kinds."
   The young chimpanzee reached into his pocket and handed Starbuck
another cigar.  As soon as the warrior had stuck it in his mouth,
Lucius used a match to light it.
   Starbuck took a grateful puff and then settled back on the bales of
straw with the first feeling of contentment he'd known since his
captivity began.  It was not a good quality fumarello by his usual
standards, but at this point it was like nectar from the gods to him.
   "So are you a friend of Taylor's?" Lucius settled back in his chair
directly across from Starbuck's cell.
   "No," he took a puff, "Though the more I hear about him, the more
I'd like to meet him."
   "He's a strange one," Lucius said.  "But a lot more likable than
most apes I've known."
   "Glad to hear that," Starbuck grinned slightly, "Maybe there's hope
for some of you after all."
   "Is there any hope for humans like you?" the young chimpanzee
matched his tone, "So far, the only thing you seem versed in is getting
thrown into a cage."
   Right away, Starbuck found himself liking the young guard.  He
didn't try to wrap things up in platitudes like Zira, Cornelius and
Zaius did.
   "What's your name?" he asked.
   "Lucius."
   "Starbuck," he extended his hand through the bars.  The young
chimpanzee might ordinarily have been puzzled by the gesture, had it
not been for the fact that Taylor had done the same thing when he'd
said goodbye to them.  This time, he was ready to reach out and accept
the proffered handshake.
   "So tell me Lucius," Starbuck took another puff, "Does your society
know anything about gambling?"
   "Gambling?" his eyes widened, "That's a vice for gorillas to indulge
in."
   "Hey, not all vices are bad," Starbuck chided gently, "A good card
game can do wonders for the nerves."
   "Not all card games are gambling."
   "What kind of card games do you play?"
   "Gin rummy.  Hearts.  They never let me try poker."
   None of those games struck any familiar chords with Starbuck.  "Your
culture doesn't know anything about pyramid?"
   "Pyramid?" Lucius frowned, "What does a pyramid have to do with
cards?"
   "Where I come from it's the best kind of card game," Starbuck kept
his hands wrapped around the bars of his cell, "If you've never heard
of it, then I guess your cards wouldn't be the same as the ones we
use."
   "I'll go get a pack from the next room," the young chimpanzee got up
and dashed along the corridor that led to Zira's main laboratory.
   Alone, Starbuck took a quick survey of his cage.  There was no
window along the back wall, which meant he couldn't think of escaping
through there.  If he had to make a move, it had to be through the
front way.
   That meant gaining Lucius's trust, and then betraying it.  It almost
made him feel guilty since he sensed that the young chimpanzee guard
was basically a decent sort.  But he had no intention of remaining a
prisoner in this godforsaken community of siminoids.  He wasn't going
to let himself be used by any of the siminoid factions, be they
chimpanzees, gorillas or orangutans.  His only duty was to escape and
get back in contact with the Galactica so they could have some hard
information.
   He intended to be out of this place before Cornelius and Zira came
back to collect him.


   The illuminated screen of Hera's scanner told her that she was very
close to the large concentration of non-human contacts.  All that stood
between her and it was one more trek through a forest perimeter and
she'd be there.
   She shut off the scanner, reattached it to her holster and pulled
out her laser pistol.  It was time to be prepared as she'd never been
prepared before.  She calmly adjusted the pistol to the kill setting. 
Seeing the siminoids kill with such ease gave her no moral qualms
whatsoever about killing them in turn.
   It took her five centons to make her way through the forest as
stealthily as she could.  When she emerged on the other side, she could
see the dim lights of torches and lamps from somewhere off in the
distance.
   Jackpot, she smiled with satisfaction.  The Ape City has to be down
there.  And so is Starbuck.
   She sprawled herself out in the grass as she peered down to try and
get a better sense of the terrain and the specific landmarks.  The
lights of what she assumed was the City were furthest away, probably
two or three miles.  Close by though, there were lights set up in a
round circle.  There was clearly some kind of nearby compound.
   She decided to check the nearby lights first.  She crawled on her
stomach for more than a hundred feet to try and get close enough to see
what the compound represented, and if it was some kind of holding area
for human prisoners.
   The closer she got, the more she could hear the murmurings of
voices.
   "....but tomorrow, I want to get a full session of target practice
in with these scum," one voice was saying, "I haven't been doing well
at all lately.  The Captain's threatened to revoke my marksman status."
   "Relax Gaius," another voice said reassuringly, "You'll do better."
   "Hey," a third voice joined in, "Who's up for feeding the humans
right now?"
   "I'll do it," the one called Gaius said, "I like watching those
smelly beasts scurry about.  It's practically the only entertainment we
can ever get."
   Another light went up as Hera realized that one of them had picked
up a torch of his own.  She could see that it was a gorilla carrying a
basket of fruit in the other hand walking toward what she was certain
was where the humans were kept prisoner in preparation for target
practice.
   She kept her eye on the gorilla called Gaius as he walked up to some
kind of large cage.  Thanks to the light from his torch, Hera could see
what appeared to be a cluster of at least a dozen humans locked inside,
aimlessly milling about.
   "All right, you unsanitary dregs," he taunted, "Fatten yourselves up
for tomorrow."  he then tossed the basket's contents through the bars
and began to laugh a typically simian laugh as he watched the humans
suddenly scurry about to try and get at the food.  Those who were
unsuccessful began to attack the ones who had picked up a piece.
   Enough of this felgercarb, Hera thought as she suddenly got to her
feet and took aim at the still-laughing Gaius.
   A red burst of laser fire streaked across the field and caught the
gorilla square in the head, causing him to drop his torch as he fell to
the ground.  It shattered and caused a fire to break out immediately.
   "What's happened?" one of the other gorillas shouted.
   Hera took aim at the bars of the cage and opened fire again.  She
unleashed two blasts, making certain that a large hole had been blasted
open in the side of the cage.  Just as she hoped, the humans inside
began to dash out into the prison compound.
   "They're loose!" another gorilla screamed, "They're loose!  Round
them up immediately!"
   Hera then took aim at the two torchlights where the voices came
from.  Her blast took them out and plunged the entire complex into
darkness.
   "Relight the torches!  We can't do anything without them!"
   "Sir, where are the guns?"
   "Get them!  Don't let them escape!"
   Hera dropped down into the grass and smiled in triumph.  Just as
she'd hoped, the siminoids had been so distracted by the escaping
humans that they weren't even bothering to take note of where the laser
fire had come from.
   At least thirty humans had scattered into the compound, leaving the
gorillas totally off-guard to take action, since they didn't keep
themselves armed at night.  Instead, they spent more time frantically
groping about in the dark to get their rifles out of their storage
mounts.  But during that time, all the humans had managed to
effectively make good in their escape.
   Through the moonlight, Hera saw that the cluster was headed in the
direction of the city.  She realized that this was her opportunity to
get there as well, as she dashed down the hillside and caught up to the
tail-end of the freed captives that now bore down on Ape City like a
wild pack of equines.


   "You're saying we need to take a public stand on behalf of the
humans at the Assembly meeting?" Dr. Galen's eyes widened in disbelief
as soon as he and the rest of the twelve chimpanzees gathered had heard
Zira finish.
   "We're talking about a stance against war," Zira said emphatically,
"A stance against a senseless campaign of war that we have no guarantee
of winning, if what this Starbuck person says is true."
   "And you really believe him when he says he comes from the other end
of the galaxy?" this came from Sylvan, a professor at one of the Ape
Schools.
   "Certainly not," Zira shook her head, "Common sense tells us that
part of his story is as ridiculous as it was in Taylor's story.  But
when he says that he comes from a tribe of almost 70,000 intelligent
humans, I for one am inclined to believe that."
   "And if that is true, then we can immediately see why it's
imperative that we take a stance against war," Cornelius said, having
become a reluctant convert to his wife's crusade.  "Our own
civilization numbers no more than 40,000 apes at best.  We would in all
likelihood be facing superior numbers armed with superior weaponry."
   "So in effect, we must all risk reprisals from the Ruling Class by
undercutting Dr. Zaius," this from a prominent food merchant named
Plautus, "Because he wants this Starbuck destroyed or freed before the
Assembly meeting so that way General Ursus can have no evidence to
present."
   "And suppose that our protests fail?" Sylvan jumped in, "Then Ursus
is going to win, and we will have been the instruments of that!"
   "It's a risk we must take!" Zira fired back, "Because if we try to
side with Zaius and have the matter swept under the rug, the
consequences could be more serious later when more of these humans come
back."
   Suddenly, they could hear a frantic rumble coming from outside,
followed by the sounds of several shrieks of horror.  The twelve
chimpanzees all rose from the table they were gathered round and went
outside to see what was happening.
   Their mouths fell open in disbelief when they saw numerous apes,
chimpanzees, orangutans, and gorillas alike, all running madly through
the streets in a wild panic.
   "What's going on?" Zira shouted.
   A male orangutan stopped and looked at them with wide-eyed terror,
"It's a rampage of humans!  They've all escaped from the gorilla prison
compound!"
   Zira and Cornelius glanced at each other in shock.
   "They're loose!" a chimpanzee ran past and shouted, "Everyone,
barricade yourself inside."
   Abruptly, Zira shut the door and her husband bolted it.  Right away,
they noticed the cold expressions on all of their friends.
   "So tell me Zira," Galen finally broke the silence, "Do you still
think we stand a chance urging pacifism toward the humans?"
   The psychologist lowered her head and said nothing.
   "This meeting would appear to serve no further purpose," Sylvan
dryly noted, "Though it would seem that none of us would be advised to
leave for now."


   "I win," Lucius said as he picked up his pile of cards from the
straw pile he'd set up between himself and Starbuck to act as a
makeshift table.
   "You win?" Starbuck frowned as he peered through the bars, "You said
the object of the game is to lose all the hearts and make your opponent
take them."
   "But not all of them," the young chimpanzee said, "If your opponent
takes all of the hearts, plus the queen of spades, then that means all
twenty-six points go against you."
   The grizzled warrior dimly shook his head in amazement and
admiration, "I am going to make a fortune with this game when I get
back."
   "To that ship of yours that floats in the sky?"
   "In space, Lucius," he corrected, "Space."
   "What's the point of traveling through space?" Lucius picked up the
deck and began to shuffle them for a new game, "There's enough
unexplored territory on this planet as it is."
   "From your perspective," Starbuck said, "Where I come from, there
was never an unexplored spot on any of our planets.  That's why we
always traveled from one to the other." 
   "Your people are stranger than I figured," he shook his head.
   As he prepared to deal the cards again, there was a sudden crashing
noise from outside, followed by a loud wail.
   "What the---?" Lucius frowned and prepared to get up.  At that
point, Starbuck realized that his opportunity was being handed to him
right now.  He had to act.
   Starbuck suddenly grabbed the young chimpanzee by the scruff of the
neck and pulled him up against the bars, twisting Lucius's arm around
in a manner that caused him to let out a loud gasp.
   "Sorry Lucius," he whispered, "You've been good to me and I hate to
do this to you, but I'm getting out of here.  Now give me the key."
   "You--" Lucius started to protest.
   "Just shut up," Starbuck said gently, "Give me the key, and I don't
have to break your arm.  Because if you don't, I will."
   "All right, all right!" he reached inside his pocket and tossed it
through the bar.  Without letting go of Lucius, Starbuck picked it up,
inserted it in the lock and opened the door.
   He dragged the young chimpanzee inside the cell.
   "Taylor was right," Starbuck said, "You shouldn't trust anyone over
thirty."
   And then, he delivered a mild blow to the base of Lucius's back that
he knew would be enough to knock him out without serious injury.  The
young chimpanzee collapsed to the straw surface face down.
   Starbuck slammed the door shut and promptly made his way into the
next room, where the laboratory was located, hoping he would find a
numo or any other kind of weapon.  All he saw were several surgical
knives on a table that he realized were used for dissecting purposes.
   He grabbed three of the sharp instruments and made his way through
the darkened lab to the door that led outside.  As he stood hidden in
the doorway, he could see numerous siminoids of all three categories
running about as though they were in a panic while several gorillas
from the Ape Police had taken to their equines and were galloping down
trying to restore some kind of order.
   As soon as the siminoids had passed, his eyes widened when he saw a
swarm of more than thirty humans suddenly stream down the roadway.  And
then, underneath the torchlights lining the street, he felt a sensation
of pure shock go through him when he saw someone that looked incredibly
familiar to him at the rear of the pack.  Carrying what he knew was a
Colonial laser pistol.
   "Hera?" Starbuck jumped out of the doorway and shouted.
   Hera stopped in the street as the rest of the humans charged on,
"Starbuck?"
   "They said you were dead!" he dashed up to her and wanted to embrace
her, but then saw that not far behind her, there were at least ten
gorillas on horseback approaching them.  This was clearly not the time
to talk.
   "Come on, let's get out of here!"  Hera shouted as she spun round
and fired two volleys at the charging gorillas.  Two of them fell off
and their horses suddenly collided with three others, slowing up the
progress of the rest of the group.
   "Nice shooting!" Starbuck grinned as they started to dash down the
roadway to catch up with the rear of the human pack.
   "Let's slow them up a bit more," Hera stopped, turned around and
then fired at a stalagmite column of rock that bordered one of the
buildings.  It collapsed into the street and rendered the roadway
totally impassable for equine riders.
   A moment later, they'd caught up with the pack and then saw up ahead
that two gorillas had stationed themselves on the roof of the next
house to try and trap the hoard with nets.
   "Watch it!" Starbuck shouted.
   "What I wouldn't give for nightvision goggles," Hera grunted as she
took aim at the roof and opened fire.  Her first shot took out the
gorilla on the left, and then it only took one other shot to get the
second one.
   "Forget it!" Starbuck grinned again, awed at her natural ability,
"You don't need them." 
   As the human cluster rounded the corner, Starbuck and Hera were
greeted to a new sight.  More than twenty siminoids armed with rifles,
clubs and rocks.  They began to charge the crowd of humans, opening
fire, clubbing them and hurling the rocks as hard as they could.
   Starbuck felt one of the stones ricochet off his shoulder, causing a
slight gash.  With boiling anger, he hurled the three surgical knives
toward the mob, one-by-one.  Two of them managed to impale in one of
the apes, and he collapsed to the ground.  But the mob wasted little
time resuming its angry charge.  Immediately, Starbuck and Hera began
to retreat the other way.
   "I think we've run out of options on saving these people," Hera
managed to say as they dashed back the way they'd come.
   "We can't go this way, it's been blocked off!" Starbuck shouted, "Is
there another way out?"
   "I don't know," Hera shook her head as she turned around and saw
that the crowd of angry siminoids had pushed its way through the human
onslaught and had now spotted them.
   "Get those two!" a gorilla shouted, "Don't let them get away!"
   "Eat fire, you ugly snitrods!" Hera shouted back, which caused the
approaching group to freeze in stunned horror, as they hadn't expected
to hear speech emanate from them.  It gave Hera enough time to open
fire and take down six of them in only three shots.
   "This way!" Starbuck motioned to a side alley, "Come on!"
   The two Galactica warriors ran down the pathway that led to an
unilluminated section of Ape City.  Twice, they felt themselves  bang
against several boxes and crates, before they abruptly felt the ground
disappear from beneath their feet and found themselves tumbling into
the waters of a lake.
   As soon as they both came up for air, Starbuck grabbed Hera by the
arm and motioned her to be silent as they quietly swam back under the
overhang of the dock they had fallen off.  There was only two feet of
space separating the overhang from the solid rock of the landfall, and
it was difficult for both of them to stay underneath it.  For now
though, Starbuck decided he had to play a hunch about siminoids that he
remembered from childhood.  That siminoids hated water and didn't swim.
   They heard the clamoring of feet above them as numerous siminoids
marched to the end of the dock and began shining hastily lit torches
across the water.
   "Where did they go?" one of them shouted.  "Where did they go?"
   "What do you think?" another gloomily retorted, "If they fell in
there, they're dead already.  No primate can swim."
   "We need to get a boat out and search for the bodies."
   "Not in this darkness.  It'll have to wait until morning.  Just go
back and finish rounding up the rest of those stinking beasts."
   They heard the footsteps retreat, and finally they cautiously swam
out.
   "I don't know how far it is to the other side of this lake,"
Starbuck whispered, "But we have to chance it.  They won't come after
us because they can't swim."
   "Agreed," Hera nodded and whispered back, "I hate to say this, but
I've lost my pistol."
   "Don't worry about it," he said reassuringly, "Let's just get as far
away from this madhouse as possible."
   Knowing there was no point in keeping it and because it would also
slow her down, Hera detached her holster and together, the two warriors
began to swim toward the other side of the lake.
   Thirty centons later, after covering the half-mile distance, they
warily collapsed onto the bank and dragged themselves into the
protective shelter of the tall grass bordering the water.
   "Thank the Lords," Starbuck felt like kissing the ground.
   "I know what you mean," Hera sighed as she lay on her back and
caught her breath, "When I think of what we've gone through in this
day."
   "You had a wonderful sense of timing, leading that charge through
the city," Starbuck said, "That gave me an opening for my break-out."
   "I'm glad," she smiled and then felt a sad realization come over
her, "Although all those poor humans I freed are probably back in their
cages now."
   "They told me you were dead."
   Hera shook her head and brushed away a lock of her tangled, wet
hair, "No.  They shot a human who was wearing my uniform.  She'd put it
on after I stole her clothes and decided I had to blend in with the
rest of the population."
   "I see," Starbuck looked down and took note of her wet skimpy
garments that clung to her curvaceous figure, "At the risk of sounding
dirty and sexist, especially from one who thinks of you as a niece,
they look great on you."
   She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, "But the loincloth causes a
good deal of your middle-age paunch to hang out, Starbuck.  Has anyone
told you that as you get older, you look more like Jolly than Jolly
does now?"
   "No, but I've felt that way for awhile," he chuckled, "I've got to
start reading his manual for how he took off all that weight."
   Their exchange broke the tension they'd been feeling for so long,
and enabled them to relax in laughter for a brief moment.  But soon,
the seriousness of the situation they were in, had set in again.
   "Did you hear anything about Boxey?" Hera asked.
   "They said they hadn't captured him."
   "Then he's still free, somewhere," she felt relieved.  "You think
he's had a chance to contact the Galactica?"
   "I hope he has," Starbuck said, "Because the sooner the Galactica
gets some teams in here, the better.  Pacifying this planet is not
going to be an easy task."
   "What kind of a planet is this?" Hera shook her head in amazement. 
"I haven't found a single human who can talk."
   "But there's at least one human on this planet who can talk,"
Starbuck said, "Someone named Taylor.  The siminoids say he was here
not too long ago.  They think he's part of some human colony that lives
out in the desert area we flew over just before we landed."
   For the first time, a note of cautious optimism came over Hera's
face as she pushed another lock of her wet hair back, "Do you think
that's possible?  That there are intelligent humans we can contact?"
   "I don't know," Starbuck scratched his beard and made a vow to shave
it off for the first time in ten yahrens once he got back to the
Galactica, "They also said that this Taylor claimed to be a space
traveler.  So far, it still doesn't add up."
   "Then I guess we've got to find him," Hera got to her feet.
   The grizzled captain groaned, "Come on Hera, I think what we could
both use is a couple centars rest before we get moving."
   "Felgercarb," she said bluntly, "We're too close to Ape City, and if
we don't get away from here before daylight, we just give their gorilla
scouts another chance to hunt us down.  We need to stay off our astrums
and keep moving!"
   Spoken like a true granddaughter of Commander Cain, Starbuck
thought.  He couldn't even think of rebuking her for insubordination. 
   "Very well," he got to his feet and said with resignation, "But at
this point, we don't have any sense of direction as to where we are,
and which way leads back to the vipers."
   "We'll worry about that later," Hera said, "The sooner I get away
from those monsters the better."
   And with that, the two warriors disappeared into the darkened
forest, hoping that they'd never be exposed to the brutality of Ape
City again.


   As soon as the tumult had died down, Cornelius and Zira had wasted
little time getting over to their laboratory.  When they found Lucius
lying unconscious in Starbuck's cell, they knew right away that their
own troubles had just begun.
   An hour later, they found themselves in the office of Claudius,
President of the Ape Assembly and titular leader of the Ape Civil
Government.  A subdued Dr. Zaius sat off to one side, while the two
chimpanzees gave a full report on the circumstances of Starbuck's
escape.
   "Very well, Dr. Cornelius," Claudius said as soon as the
archeologist had finished, "I'm convinced that you and Dr. Zira do not
bear responsibility for this riot that took place.  Your nephew will
have to face charges of gross negligence, but since he is under
eighteen I doubt it will lead to a prison sentence."
   "Thank you, Mr. President," Zira said with relief.
   "And as for you, Dr. Zaius," Claudius glared at his fellow
orangutan, "It disappoints me greatly to discover that you've been
perpetrating a fraud when it comes to the matter of humans that can
talk.  First with Taylor, then with this prisoner Starbuck.  And now we
learn from the crowds that broke up the mob that there was a female
human who spoke when she used her strange fire gun on the Police
forces.  These are obviously not experimental humans that have been
corrupted by science, Dr. Zaius.  They mean that there is a colony of
intelligent humans near our territories!"
   "Mr. President," the Chief Scientist rose, "At no time have I ever
violated my duties as Chief Defender of the Faith, which have dictated
silence about Man's true origins since the Lawgiver decreed it.  Each
Defender has always maintained that oath of silence."
   "But now circumstances force the shattering of that oath, and the
truth about what Man really is, must come out." the President noted
acidly, "And you know what this means.  When General Ursus gets his
audience before the Full Assembly, there can only be one outcome which
all apes, be they orangutan, chimpanzee or gorilla can agree on.  Total
war and the immediate extermination of every human in the Forbidden
Zone and the surrounding areas."
   "Mr. President!" Zira bolted from her chair, "You can't let this
happen!  It would mean disaster for us all!"
   "Dr. Zira, your bizarre compassion for humans can at times seem
commendable, but it does you no credit in this instance,"  Claudius
said, "Tonight, apes of all classes received an opportunity to see why
Man can not be permitted to coexist within our domain, especially men
who have the gifts of intelligence that they forfeited their right to
thousands of years ago!"
   "But Mr. President, suppose what this Starbuck said about his tribe
is true?" Zira pleaded.
   "Nonsense!" Zaius thundered, "A preposterous fairy tale about 70,000
humans traveling in space?  Fleeing from another race of automated
machines?  Mere lies to disguise the weakness of what lies in the
Forbidden Zone!"
   The President leaned back in his chair, "By your tone, Dr. Zaius, I
can expect you to support a resolution for war when the Ruling Class
must make it's decision?"
   "You have it," the Chief Scientist nodded firmly, "As a result of
what has happened tonight, the Ruling Class must get ahead of General
Ursus and the gorillas demand for war.  This way we can be assured that
they will not threaten the established order over the long-haul because
we tried to stand in the way."
   "Mr. President, while I sympathize to one degree with this desire
for revenge, I must insist that we maintain prudence for now,"
Cornelius said, "I will grant you that it is impossible to believe that
Starbuck's story of traveling through space is true, but I don't think
we can discount his insistence that his tribe possesses numbers and
weapons far advanced of our own.  If we decided to engage in a war of
conquest, the results could be disastrous."
   "So you would rather we wait for them to swarm down on us, and
exterminate us while we sit back passively?" Zaius raised his voice,
"What you call prudence, I would call treason!"
   "Let's dispense with hurling accusations at each other," Claudius
held up his hands, "Dr. Cornelius, Dr. Zira, I naturally will give you
every right to offer an opposing viewpoint at the Assembly session. 
But I must caution you both that advocating pacifism toward the humans
at a time when more than two dozen gorillas lie dead is not going to
help either of you in the long-run."
   "Perhaps not," Zira said defiantly, "But I'm convinced that the
long-term is going to vindicate our position."
   The Assembly President offered a half-smile at her.
   "If that's true Doctor, then I'll promise you this," he said, "The
Ruling Class may very well have to abdicate in favor of the both of
you."

                    Chapter Seven

   "Colonel Rollins?" Athena radioed, "Do your systems still check out
for touchdown?"
   "Everything's running beautifully, Major," Rollins replied, "We're
fifteen of your centons away from landing.  How about you?"
   "No problem Colonel.  We've handled this sort of thing before."
   "I can imagine," he chuckled, "We'll be signing off for now.  Talk
to you again as soon as we're both on the ground and we can coordinate
our strategy."
   "Affirmative.  We'll keep you on our monitor just to be sure we
don't lose each other."
   As soon as Rollins shut off the transmitter, he looked over at Brent
and saw that the second-in-command had the same look of incredulous
disbelief that had been there for the last twelve hours since the
Magellan II and the Galactica shuttle had begun their non-stop
conversation.
   "Brent," he said patiently, "Wipe that first brush with
extraterrestrials look off your face and get back to work."
   "I'm sorry Skipper," Brent shook his head,  "It's just that
after----" he trailed off and shuddered.
   Rollins grimly nodded and then motioned Fowler over, "Gentlemen," he
said, "The last twelve hours have not been easy, because we have now
learned information that tells us that the Earth of the 40th Century is
an Earth that has managed to go completely ass-backwards.  How this
happened, or when it happened is something we can not begin to
speculate about until we're on the ground.  But already, I think I have
an inkling of what it is we've all been thinking about once we complete
the mission and return to the 20th Century."
   Brent and Fowler both nodded.  They didn't have to say what they
were all thinking at this point.
   "That's why it's important for us to gather as much evidence and
information about what kind of Earth this is," Rollins went on, "But
even though that has now become an important priority in this mission,
in addition to helping these people find their own missing comrades, we
can not let it distract us from the basic objective of finding Taylor
and the others.  I want that understood completely."
   His fellow astronauts nodded.
   "Good," Rollins turned back to the control panel, "Now let's put
this sucker on the ground."


   "Ten centons to landing," Athena said as she flicked several
switches that put the shuttle into a controlled descent mode.  "We
should be getting a topography reading in another five centons of the
terrain the Magellan II will be touching down on."
   "Major," Ares spoke up, "Do you think we ought to radio the
Galactica one last time before landing, to tell them what we've learned
from Colonel Rollins and his team?"
   "We can't," Athena shook her head, "We're too far to send a
scrambled signal at this point.  We'd have to broadcast on an open
frequency that the Cylons can conceivably pick up."
   Cassiopeia had been feeling a dread sense of unease building up
inside her for the last twelve centars as she had learned all the
details of the crew of the Magellan II and their mission.  During that
time, she had been trying to recall things she had read in scientific
textbooks when she had taken her four yahrens of training to become a
full-fledged doctor.  It had required learning many things about all
categories of science, not just medicine.  And there was something she
had once read in a physics manual that had been gnawing at her for some
time.
   She finally decided that now was the time to mention her concerns. 
Once they were on the ground and forced to work alongside the three men
from Earth's past there would be no other opportunity.
   "Athena," she said, "There's something bothering me.  Something that
could mean a real danger for all of us."
   "What?" the dark-haired major frowned.
   "Those men," her expression was tight-lipped, "They're from Earth's
past, and they say their objective is to ultimately return to Earth's
past."
   "Yes, but Cassiopeia that's going to be impossible for them to pull
off.  It's possible to travel forward in time through the crude means
of interstellar travel they took, but going backwards---"
   "Athena, you don't understand," Cassiopeia interrupted, "They
already know how to get back.  They wouldn't have gone on a rescue
mission for their friends if there wasn't some definite idea in their
mind of how they can go back 2000 yahrens to their own time."
   "If I grant you that point, I'm not sure I understand what you're
worried about."
   "They would have the power to change history," the Chief Medical
Officer finally came to the point.  As soon as she said the words,
Bernabe and Ares both blanched slightly, while a slow, uneasy dawning
came over Athena's face.
   "You mean---" Athena started as memories of what she had once read
in the same physics textbooks started to come back to her.
   "Yes," Cassiopeia nodded, "And if my hunch is right, the lives of
every person in the Fleet could be at risk."
   "It's only a theory, Cassie," the major cautioned, "Just one theory
of many about the effects of traveling back in time.  And our science
was nowhere near a stage where any of those theories could be put to
the test."
   "But is it something we can risk?" she retorted gently, "Athena, we
might as well admit the obvious.  We can help these people search for
this Colonel Taylor and his crew, but we can not let any of them go
back to Earth's past."
   An uneasy silence hung in the cockpit for more than a centar as the
shuttle continued it's programmed descent.


   "We're starting to penetrate the upper atmosphere," Rollins had
assumed his most professional bearing, "Fowler, have you narrowed down
our touchdown point?"
   "I put us about....I'd say along the North Shore of Long Island,
twenty miles northeast of Manhattan, five miles inland from Long Island
Sound."
   "Okay," the commander nodded, "All systems still running according
to programming.  If this straight line heading from the last point we
had Taylor's trajectory works, we should land right next to where the
Magellan's parked."
   "Colonel Rollins!" they suddenly heard Athena's alarmed voice fill
the cockpit, "Our topography analysis has you headed straight for a
landing in the middle of an inland sea!  Abort your heading and alter
course!"
   "Holy shit," Rollins said as he quickly hit some switches, "Brent,
deactivate computer control guidance!"
   "Deactivating!" the sandy-haired astronaut opened the glass panel
above his head and turned the red knob inside to the left.
   "Manual control systems coming on-line now," Rollins felt his heart
begin to thump as he took control of the rapidly descending spacecraft.
   Fowler was staring dumbfoundedly at his map charts, "Skipper,
there's no way we should be landing in Long Island Sound unless it's
moved five miles inland."
   "Well they say it's down there, and I think their systems know more
about these things!" Rollins clenched his teeth as he felt the craft
react sluggishly under his control.  "We're not programmed to handle a
water landing.  Not if we want to get off the ground again!"
   "We won't fare much better with a rough landing on the ground
either!" Brent said as he grabbed hold of the control stick on his side
of the cockpit to relieve some of the burden Rollins was shouldering.
   The commander managed to flick the switch of his radio, "Athena, are
we clear of that inland sea?"
   "Affirmative, but you've got more trouble!" the Galactica warrior
chimed back, "The terrain bordering the sea is mountainous desert. 
There aren't many smooth spots for your ship to land."
   Fowler's jaw fell open, "What the fuck?" he said aloud.
   "Desert?  Mountains?" Brent craned his head back at Fowler, "You
said we were coming in near New York, for Christ's sake!"
   "We are!" the navigator shouted back angrily.
   "Shut up, both of you!" Rollins thundered as he continued to
sluggishly maneuver the rapidly descending spacecraft.  The red glow of
re-entry was fast enveloping them, and then dissipating as they entered
the final stages of descent.  Finally, the sight of blue sky filled the
cockpit windows followed seconds later by the bizarre sight of jagged
desert peaks dotting the entire landscape beneath them.
   "Leveling off to glide approach," Rollins said under his breath as
he felt the sweat pouring out of his body, "Main engine shutdown
initiated."
   Brent took a breath and hit several switches, "Forward power to
braking systems."
   "Landing gear deployed?" Rollins barked at Fowler.
   "Gear down!" the navigator responded.
   "All right," the commander clenched his teeth, "All right.  All
systems go.  We just need to find a soft spot."
   "Magellan II, this is Galactica shuttle," Athena's voice filled the
cockpit, trying to inject a note of reassurance, "We have you tracked. 
We'll be setting down right next to you.  Signing off for now and good
luck."
   "Yeah, but will there be any one of us left alive to meet them?"
Brent grunted sarcastically as they saw the mountain peaks grow closer
and closer in their line of vision.
   "Come on," Rollins whispered as he searched the horizon for just one
flat surface region.
   "Ten thousand feet," Fowler called off the altitude, "Nine
thousand."
   "Main engine shutdown complete," Brent said, "We're now on total
glide."
   "Six thousand....Four thousand."
   "Skipper, at twelve o'clock!" Brent's voice suddenly was filled with
terror.
   Rollins felt his blood run cold when he saw a giant peak rising more
than three thousand feet high in the air directly ahead of them.  At
their present rate of descent, they were headed straight for a
collision below the peak's top which would destroy the Magellan II into
a million tiny fragments.
   "Jettison main thrusters!" the commander shouted.  
   Fowler's eyes widened, "But Skipper, that means----"
   "I know what it means, and if you don't do it we're all dead! 
Jettison main thrusters!"
   The navigator had to reach down to open an instrument panel at his
rear console.  He then threw an auxiliary switch that opened a second
panel underneath the first one, concealing a bright green button.
   "Come on!" Rollins shouted as he and Brent saw the peak loom closer.
   Fowler pressed it and abruptly the spacecraft began to rise for a
brief moment as the main engines at the rear of the Magellan II were
jettisoned and fell away.  The Magellan II had now become a gigantic
glider that could never again leave the surface under its own power.
   The maneuver caused the spacecraft to rise high enough that the nose
passed over the jagged peak with no margin whatsoever to spare.  But no
sooner was the nose clear when the three astronauts felt a violent
bump.
   "Skipper, our rear gear brushed against it!" Fowler called,
"Indications are that it's damaged bad!"
   Already, Brent was beginning to face the terrible realization that
even if they got through the landing safely, there was no hope
whatsoever of the Magellan II ever flying again.  And that meant he
would have to face the thought of being trapped in the 40th Century
forever.  Cut off forever from his family, and any hope of setting
things right with them.
   "Steady," Rollins kept a poker face as he held the control stick
securely and felt the spacecraft resume its descent arc.  The Magellan
II was now below the level of the various rock peaks surrounding her
now.  If another one emerged ahead of them, there would be no second
chance this time.
   "Three thousand....two thousand....." Fowler ticked off.  The
navigator's heart was pounding so frantically, he felt as though it
would explode.
   "Look!" Brent pointed, "At two o'clock, I think we can set her down
there."
   Rollins strained his eyes and saw a slightly rough-looking but open
area of desert that stretched for well over several thousand  feet
before running flush into the base of another peak.
   "Okay," the commander said, "Let's try for there."  he moved the
craft's nose down to put it on a heading for the landing spot. 
"Fowler, stand by to deploy all main and auxiliary chutes."
   "Standing by.  Now at one thousand feet, eight hundred...."
   "Deploy!"
   The three astronauts felt a violent jolt as the four parachutes
mounted in the rear of the spacecraft were deployed, slowing the ship's
rate of descent.
   Even with the chutes deployed though, Rollins still felt they were
coming in too fast for a landing on an inadequate site.  Any other
terrain--fields, trees, sand, would have been manageable.  The only
things the Magellan II hadn't been designed for were water and rocky
desert terrain.
   Thank you Consolidated Dynamics, you cheap bastards, he thought as
he moved the throttle up one last time for the final approach.
   "Touchdown in five, four, three, two----"
   Before Fowler could finish, the Magellan II had made contact with
the ground.  Rollins felt the damaged rear landing gear crumple
instantly from the impact, and the spacecraft began to slide violently
across the rough, rocky surface, bumping twice against some
medium-sized obstacles on the ground.
   "Come on you son-of-a-bitch!" Rollins shouted as he tried to apply
the last traces of power to the braking flaps.  Beside him, Brent had a
terror-filled expression on his face as he dug his nails in the side of
his chair and saw the imposing form of the mountain barrier looming
ahead.  If the spacecraft didn't stop before reaching it, the last
thing he would see would be the orange flash of the explosion consuming
him.
   But then, he felt the Magellan II decelerate until finally, the
skidding spacecraft came to a stop a mere fifty feet from the base of
the cliff.
   "The Eagle has landed," Rollins let out a sigh as he took his hand
off the throttle.
   Brent also let out a relieved exhale and felt the urge to get down
on his knees in prayerful thanks to God.
   "Magellan II?" the radio became active again, "Magellan II do you
copy?"
   Rollins felt so drained that it took him thirty seconds to reach
over and hit the respond button, "Galactica shuttle, this is Rollins. 
We're okay."
   "We'll be setting down beside you in three of your minutes."
   "Looking forward to it," Rollins said as he shut off the
communications terminal power and undid his harness straps.  "Fowler?"
he called out.
   There was no response.
   "Fowler?"
   Brent looked back and his relief suddenly turned to wide-eyed
horror.
   "Skipper!"
   The commander got to his feet and dashed back toward the rear of the
spacecraft.  They found the red-haired navigator sprawled against the
compartment bulkhead with a deep gash in his forehead.
   "Oh my God," he whispered and got to his knees.  He desperately
tried to feel a pulse but knew right away that he'd feel nothing.
   "Fowler!" Brent shouted as he dashed back and joined him.
   "Forget it," Rollins shook his head, "He's dead."
   "How?" the second-in-command was shocked, "How could---"
   Rollins cast a forlorn glance at Fowler's navigation station.  He
could see the harness straps that had held the navigator in place lying
broken over the chair.
   "There's your answer," he said in a flat monotone, "His harness
failed and the impact hurled him all the way back into the bulkhead
wall."
   "Damn," Brent felt a tear welling up.  "Damn."
   "We can't do anything for him," the commander got to his feet, "We
just have to accept it and move on."
   "Can you take this whole thing that lightly?" Brent glared angrily. 
He no longer had any illusion in his mind that there was a rational
purpose to this mission.
   "I haven't got any other choice but to handle it that way," Rollins
said calmly, "And maybe that's why I got to be the commander of this
expedition.  Our concern has to be with those who are still living and
finding them.  Now get all your gear together, and let's get ready to
meet those new friends of ours."
   He moved back to the front of the cockpit, leaving Brent alone with
the corpse of their fellow astronaut.  The second-in-command leaned
down and draped a canvas covering over Fowler's head before he finally
summoned the strength to leave.


   "I think they just did a favor for us," Ares couldn't help but say
aloud as the Galactica shuttle went into it's final descent that would
land it right next to the broken Magellan II.
   "What do you mean?" Bernabe asked.
   "Well, we've been worrying aloud about the danger of what might
happen if we let them go back to the past," the senior security guard
noted, "And from the looks of that landing, they certainly can't do
that with their own ship."
   Athena slowly nodded and smiled mirthlessly, "Point taken,
Lieutenant.  But in the interests of keeping smooth diplomatic
relations with our new acquaintances, I'd advise that none of us
mention that subject at all."


   Rollins and Brent were both waiting outside when the shuttle landed. 
The first face-to-face meeting of the Colonial warriors and the Earth
astronauts was reasonably friendly, but also subdued as soon as Rollins
mentioned the death of Fowler to them.
   Ares and Bernabe went inside the Magellan II to help Brent unload
the rest of the provisions and supplies, while the commander joined
Athena and Cassiopeia in the shuttle cockpit for a strategy session.
   "It's a good thing we had those twelve hours to talk things out and
learn everything we can about each other," Rollins said, "I feel as
though I already understand everything about your mission, and what is
it your people are trying to do."
   "I'm grateful for that, Colonel," Athena said, "And we're more than
happy to assist you in finding your friends.  From the looks of
things," she looked out at the imposing scene of the canyon valley they
were lying in, "There aren't many leads to go on."
   "I can tell," Rollins nodded, "God, I can't understand what's
happened to this planet.  I know it's been two thousand years for us,
but there's nothing about this terrain that resembles what it's
supposed to be."
   "You're familiar with this area?" Cassiopeia asked.
   "This was part of a major metropolitan area in the northeastern
region of my home country," he said, "When I last saw it, there were no
mountains, and no canyons.  This region was a densely populated
flatland area."
   "How dense?"
   "At least ten million people."
   "My God," Athena whispered.
   "Yeah," Rollins nodded, "Somehow, the civilization that I knew,
which was advanced enough to build our spacecraft, has disappeared over
the last two thousand years."
   "Hopefully, we'll find out the reasons why," Athena said, "But first
things first.  When I monitored that inland sea you were headed for,
our scanners showed that there was some kind of manufactured metallic
object lying on the bottom of it.  Now I'm no expert on what is and
what isn't indigenous to this planet, but I have a strong suspicion
that what we scanned was the remains of the spacecraft you're looking
for."
   "Possible," Rollins nodded, "If the trajectory we were following
still checked out, then that would explain why we almost landed in
there too."
   "Our topography analysis says that there's a channel that empties
into the sea twenty kilometers to the east," Athena said, "We might as
well check it out to see if there are any indications that your friends
made it ashore."
   "Can we manage that on foot?"
   "We won't have to," Cassiopeia said, "This shuttle is equipped with
a ground transport vehicle designed for terrain like this.  It's called
a landram.  If we load all our supplies inside, we can begin searching
immediately."


   Two hours later, the landram was moving away from both the shuttle
and the wrecked Magellan II on an easterly heading.  In spite of their
shock at seeing the topography so radically altered from what it should
have been, both Rollins and Brent were highly impressed by the craft's
features and maneuverability.    
   "The moon buggies we rode had nothing on this," the colonel said
aloud.
   "Tell me something Colonel," Ares asked, trying to start some
conversation with the Earth natives, "Why did your friends go on a deep
space mission in the first place?"
   Rollins sighed and dimly shook his head, "I've never figured that
out myself, Lieutenant.  As a matter of fact, the last time I saw
Taylor I kept trying to talk him out of the whole crazy thing."
   Brent's ears perked up when he heard that.  For the first time, he
finally understood why Rollins had been so obsessed with the mission
and following it to its conclusion no matter what.  The commander
wanted to finally have the satisfaction of telling Taylor that he'd
been wrong.
   "It was described as a unique opportunity for a strain of humanity
to begin anew on a distant world," the sandy-haired astronaut decided
to answer the question Rollins had avoided, "Of course had any of us
known that another tribe of humanity existed out there, we might not
have considered the idea so readily."
   "That means none of you, even in the advanced civilization of the
past knew about the origins of humanity?" Cassiopeia was amazed, "The
settlement of Earth by the Thirteenth Tribe that set out from the
planet Kobol?"
   "No," Rollins shook his head, "To be perfectly honest, I'm still
having trouble accepting that idea myself.  It's easier for me to
believe that separate strains of humanity could have developed
independently than for us all to be linked to one common beginning."
   "But if that were true, then we couldn't have known about the
existence of Earth before we arrived," Athena noted.
   "True," the commander nodded, "True."
   "We might have just forgotten, but not completely," Brent said,
"Your names for instance are identical to names that we used in our
more ancient cultures several thousand years ago, and were quite
prominent in some of our legends and myths.  As a matter of fact
Athena, one nation used your name for the mythical goddess of wisdom."
   Athena let out a dry chuckle, "How considerate of them."
   "It's almost similar to what happened in our own home planets,"
Cassiopeia said, "When the twelve tribes from Kobol settled in our
worlds, they destroyed the technology that had brought them from the
mother world as a sign of repentance to God and it took thousands of
yahrens to regain that same technology.  Maybe the same thing happened
here on Earth."
   "Possibly," Rollins said, "But at the moment, I'm more interested to
find out what happened that's caused the Earth as Brent and I knew it
to be destroyed."
   "We are too," Athena said, "We won't be able to know if we can still
settle our people on this planet otherwise."
   "Could you explain again this war you've been fighting with this
race of machines?" Brent asked, "What do you call them?"
   "Cylons," Athena sighed, "It's not an easy thing to explain."
   Before the conversation could go any further, Bernabe was chiming in
from the observer/gunnery post on the outside of the vehicle.
   "Major, I've got the magnifiers trained on the channel and I think I
see something.  Suggest we stop to check it out."
   "Okay Bernabe," Athena said as she slowed the landram to a stop. 
"Colonel Rollins, Major Brent, maybe you should check it out with him
to see if it's anything you'd recognize."
   The two astronauts nodded and rose from their seats.  Ares slid the
door open and they stepped out onto the desert surface.
   While they waited for them to finish investigating, Cassiopeia cast
Athena a cautious glance.  "Athena, don't you think we should be
conducting a sweep for where Blue Squadron landed their vipers?"
   "I already know where they landed," Athena said flatly and avoided
looking at her, "When I was tracking the Magellan II's landing, I also
took the liberty of scanning the jungle regions that are far off to the
west.  There were three metal contacts concentrated together in one
spot that have to be their vipers."
   An incredulous expression came over the Chief Medical Officer's
face, "Then why didn't you---"
   "Because I felt we owed it to them to help them first," Athena said
flatly, "And if I'd told you at the time, you would have been insisting
that we go our separate ways or that we should have checked it out
first.  But doing that would mean alienating them, and given the risk
you spoke of earlier concerning their future plans, alienating these
men is the last thing I am going to do."
   "But---" Cassiopeia started to protest and then stopped when the two
astronauts returned and stepped inside.  Both of them seemed to be
resisting the urge to smirk.
   "Well?" Athena asked as Ares closed the door.
   "They survived the crash," Rollins settled back in his seat.  "We
saw an empty rubber liferaft, standard issue for all NASA astronauts."
   "And this," Brent opened his hand and revealed a tiny
red-white-and-blue flag, identical to the ones on the sleeves of their
white jumpsuits.  "This was planted at the site.  The emblem of our
country.  Looks as though their patriotic instincts still endured even
after arriving."
   "Which also means that they didn't realize they were on Earth when
they landed," Rollins rubbed his neck.
   "Okay," Athena said, "At least we know that your friends might still
be alive.  Now that we've determined that, there's only one place for
us to go."
   "Where's that?"
   "Our topography scan of the planet indicates that about fifty miles
to the southwest is where the jungle regions of this planet begins."
   "Jungle regions to the southwest...." Rollins said disbelievingly as
he did some mental geography.  That would put them in New Jersey, which
was the last place on Earth he ever would have associated with the term
'jungle.'
   Then again, he thought grimly, the North Shore of Long Island was
the last place he would have associated with mountains and desert.
   "And we also suspect that the three people from our patrol, the ones
you observed yesterday Colonel, landed in that region.  Now from what I
can tell, this is the *only* nearby spot capable of sustaining life. 
If your friends survived after they made it here, they could only have
done so if they'd tried for that region.  So by going there, we should
be able to kill two birds with one stone."
   Rollins nodded, "Okay Major.  About how long do you think it would
take to reach that area?"
   "It won't be smooth sailing on this terrain," she said, "We'll have
to negotiate a lot of mountain pass regions and do some serious terrain
climbing.  If it was fifty miles of flatland, I could have us there in
one of your hours.  This could take at least five to six."
   "It'd take days to walk just as far in these conditions," Brent
said, "We might as well be grateful for small favors, Major.  If you
hadn't been here to help us, I don't think we could have negotiated
it."
   "Bernabe, you settled in?" Athena radioed the security guard on the
landram's exterior.
   "All secured, Major.  I'm ready."
   Athena then started up the landram and it began it's slow southwest
trek in search of four missing astronauts, and three missing warriors. 



   There was an enormous sense of dread inside Cornelius as he took his
seat along with Zira in the chimpanzee section of the outdoor
amphitheater that housed the Ape Assembly.  Because this was an Open
Assembly, it would mark a rare occasion when the gorillas and
chimpanzees would finally get a chance to make comments to the Assembly
as a whole.  And on this day, Cornelius already knew that the voices
from the gorilla section, where General Ursus had already taken his
place in full elaborate battle dress, were going to carry far more
weight than anything he or Zira would say.
   He'd spent the rest of the night debating whether he should try to
talk Zira out of making her speech, since the disastrous meeting with
the other chimpanzees at the time the raid had began had virtually
closed the door on getting anyone else from their class to go along
with them.  Just as they had been all alone in defending Taylor before
the Tribunal, they would be alone again, and in all likelihood could
find themselves brought up on charges again.  In spite of what Claudius
had promised, Cornelius knew that the Assembly President, like all
orangutans, would go back on his word in an instant if expediency
dictated it.
   But he'd finally decided that his wife was filled with too much
pride to keep her feelings to herself, especially when he also knew
that she was right.  If she didn't have the chance to speak out in a
public forum like this, she might do it in a setting where there would
be no question of being thrown into jail.
   And so he would stand by her on this critical day in Ape History and
defend what she said with all the vigor he could muster.  The time had
come for the chimpanzee archeologist to throw all cautions to the wind.
   Below them, in the center of the amphitheater, the orangutans who
comprised the membership of the Assembly had all taken their positions
on the stone benches reserved for them, while at the front, Claudius
had assumed his position in the President's chair.  To one side, a
ceremonial guard blew into a horn that caused all the apes to settle
down in anticipation of the meeting's beginning.  When the guard had
finished, a hush came over as Claudius rose from his chair and began to
walk about the proscenium.
   "Fellow Apes!" he boomed out in his usual sonorous tone, "We gather
today in this special Open Assembly to discuss a matter of grave
concern that has arisen in recent days.  The terrible knowledge that
the beast called Man threatens us in ways that none of us could ever
have fathomed before!"
   He motioned to Dr. Zaius who was seated in the front row with the
other senior members of the Ruling Class.
   "At this time, I call upon Dr. Zaius, our esteemed Minister of
Science and Defender of the Faith to explain the terrible secret that
he and his predecessors have been forced to carry inside for a thousand
years."
   Some scattered applause went up as Zaius got to his feet and looked
over the crowd carefully before beginning.
   "Fellow Apes!" the elderly orangutan began, "Twelve hundred years
ago, the greatest Ape who ever lived, the Lawgiver, laid down to us in
the Sacred Scrolls the testaments of our faith that has guided us ever
since.  It was the Lawgiver's belief that we Apes needed a code to live
by that would enable us to prosper as a society, and always be mindful
of the precious gift God gave to us in having a soul and the ability to
reason."
   He then looked about the gathering and paused briefly for effect.
   "But there were other testaments the Lawgiver left to us that he
felt were not to be revealed to Ape Society as a whole unless
circumstances dictated otherwise.  That time, as a result of what has
happened to us these past few weeks, is now.
   "You have all heard rumors and accounts of how there have been
strange cases of humans that talk.  Beginning with the one who called
himself Taylor, and then followed yesterday by reports of talking
humans that ambushed a gorilla scout party, and last night the terror
of the human rampage led by another talking human that resulted in more
than ten apes killed.
   "Let me state categorically in this open forum for all to hear, that
the accusations the Ministry of Science previously leveled against Dr.
Cornelius and Dr. Zira of conducting heretical experiments on human
captives to alter them into talking freaks is absolutely false!"
   Watching from the chimpanzees section, Cornelius leaned over to his
wife and whispered, "He appears to be extending us an olive branch."
   "It's too late for that," Zira hissed, "I won't be bought off. 
Especially by the likes of him."
   Zaius moved up to the head of the Assembly section so that he stood
directly in front of the President's chair.
   "Taylor before, and these new ones that appeared yesterday are not
scientific freaks.  They in fact represent the greatest menace to our
civilization that we have ever faced.  They are the descendants of the
ultimate evil that is Man.  Descendants of the ones whom God turned His
back on long ago when he made a wasteland of the Forbidden Zone and the
many lands surrounding it.  They are the reasons why the Almighty chose
to make the Apes His new chosen ones, and why we are now the masters of
this planet!"
   A hushed murmur went up through the crowd as they heard this
stunning revelation that undercut everything they had been taught to
believe about Man all their lives.
   "Yes," Zaius went on, "I know it is a shocking concept.  But it is
in fact quite true.  Man was given the gifts that we now enjoy and
built civilizations that we would regard as veritable Paradises.  But
because he has that warlike instinct for selfishness and deceit that
has made him a beast in our eyes, he destroyed his accomplishments and
his civilizations and was forced to become subservient to us.
   "You have seen in the mute, thoughtless humans that we have always
known, the bitter fruit of Man's sin.  But now, we see that the Devil
is still among us in the form of a remnant of what Man once was. 
Embodied in the mutant humans from the Forbidden Zone who have
encroached on our territories and now threaten to destroy us all in the
name of taking back that which is no longer their right to have, as God
has decreed!"
   Many heads were nodding in approval and applauding as the Chief
Scientist spoke.  To Zira's distaste, she saw that most of the
chimpanzees were joining in as well.
   "To my eternal regret, I must confess that I bear partial
responsibility for this sad plight of the last day that left more than
two dozen gorillas dead," Zaius continued with a humble air, "It was my
decision to let the mutant called Taylor go off into the Forbidden Zone
with his woman.  I did this in the hopes that his captivity would
convince him of the folly in opposing our order and that he would warn
his brothers in the Forbidden Zone that they would face total
annihilation if they ever encroached upon us again.  I should have
realized though that he would never be honorable enough to deliver that
warning and heed it."
   "What poppycock!" Zira hissed under her breath, "He let Taylor go
because Taylor was holding a gun to his head at the time."
   "For now we see that Taylor has encouraged his fellow mutants to
take up arms against us, and find ways to get the mute animals to go on
wild rampages that further pillage our food and our property.
   "Man has become a pestilence that at long last must be eradicated! 
No more will we tolerate the pillaging of our precious resources!  No
more will we tolerate the contamination they bring to our society!  And
no more will we tolerate their demonic brethren making war against us!
   "My fellow Apes, the time has come for us to take up our arms and
declare on this day that in the name of the Lawgiver, the demons in the
Forbidden Zone should be rooted out once and for all!  And when they
are disposed of, we will at last turn our energies to destroying the
mute ones who have plagued us for too long now!
   "On behalf of the entire Ruling Class, I call on you members of this
Open Assembly to ratify an immediate proposal for total war against
humanity!"
   Loud, boisterous applause and wild ape grunts went up from almost
all of the spectators.  In the gorilla section, an amazed General Ursus
could scarcely believe his good fortune that Dr. Zaius had now become
his champion instead of opponent.
   At the President's table, Claudius motioned the guard to sound his
horn and call for order.  As soon as the noise filled the chamber, the
tumult died down as Zaius resumed his seat.
   "Thank you Dr. Zaius," the President said, "As he has so eloquently
noted, the entire Ruling Class is in concurrence on this matter.  It is
only up to you as a whole, to decide if we shall begin the crusade this
day.  At this time, are there any Apes present who wish to rise in
objection to Dr. Zaius's proposal?"
   Cornelius could sense right away that many pairs of eyes had focused
on the chimpanzees section where he and Zira sat.  Most of them knew
all about their experience with Taylor, and how Zira had always been
one of the foremost champions of treating humans with more compassion
as part of a search for greater knowledge.
   He glanced at his wife and waited for her to rise.  Zira did not
disappoint him.
   "Mr. President," the psychologist's voice was one of controlled
indignation, "I rise to speak out against this reckless, irresponsible
measure that if adopted will lead to the potential destruction of all
that we have cherished as a society for hundreds of years."
   "Human lover!" a gorilla shouted from the opposite side of the
galleries.
   Zira ignored the taunt and went on.  "I hear it said by our esteemed
Minister of Science that for 1200 years, we have been lied to by every
Defender of the Faith who chose to keep the truth of what Man really is
hidden from us.  And now that same corrupt aristocracy that has
permitted Truth and Knowledge to be trampled on, even to the point of
having innocent ones hauled up before tribunals on false charges of
heresy and treason, tells us that our best interest lies in a bloody
war of conquest.  I think when it comes to having our best interest at
heart, the track record of this Ruling Class speaks for itself."
   A low mumble of discontent came up from the orangutans.  But to
Cornelius's surprise there were several chimpanzees who were silently
nodding their heads.
   "Do I condone the deaths of our brother apes yesterday at the hands
of these humans?  Absolutely not.  But by the same token, I cannot help
but wonder what the normal reaction of an ape might be if he were to
see fellow apes being abused and murdered wantonly by humans for sport. 
If an ape took action and killed humans to rescue his brothers, would
he feel that his killing was justified?"
   She allowed her rhetorical question to hang in the air and saw with
satisfaction that no one was challenging her.
   "I strongly suspect that this unknown civilization of intelligent
humans does not wish to exterminate us unless we take unprovoked action
against them."
   Several gorillas started to groan in disgust.
   "We have seen indications that the weaponry these humans possess is
something far in advance of our own.  Certainly all of you can concede
that those fire guns we saw last night were far beyond anything Ape
Society has ever been able to comprehend."
   This time, the gorillas were not groaning but nodding in agreement.
   "If it is true then that these humans have numbers far greater than
our total population, all capable of raining down destruction upon us
with their fire guns, then what purpose is served in trying to wage war
against them, when the result would only be our destruction?"
   "No human can ever defeat the indomitable spirit of our warriors!"
General Ursus rose from his chair and spoke for the first time.  "And
we cannot lose because we are God's chosen ones!"
   "I believe there is an old expression in the Sacred Scrolls that
what the Almighty giveth, He can also taketh away in but an instant."
Zira coolly retorted, "The revelations we have learned about Man show
that He has done so in the past.  Is it not possible that it may one
day be the will of that same God to restore things to what they once
were?"
   "Heresy!" one orangutan from the Assembly shouted, "It is heresy at
it's worst to suggest that Apes could be so abandoned!"
   "You have already heard from our own Defender of the Faith that
Mankind was so abandoned by the Almighty long ago!" Zira's nostrils
flared, "Would it have been heresy for a man one thousand years ago to
have predicted the rise of the Ape?"
   General Ursus turned away from Zira and glared at the rest of the
apes who had gathered.
   "Are we to let our future be dictated by such philosophical
claptrap?" the general thundered.  "We should look to the realities
that exist!  Our food continuously plundered!  The spread of
contamination and disease from the stinking beasts we spare and keep in
cages!  And now, the emergence of humans who commit savage murder
against apes!  Do we dare call ourselves a civilized race if we permit
this slow destruction of our society to go unchecked?"
   The approving grunts and roars started to fill the amphitheater.
   "Do we dare call ourselves 'civilized' if we start doing the very
things that caused humanity to fall from grace?" Zira retorted acidly
to a chorus of rising boos and chants of "Sit down!  Sit down!  Sit
down!"
   "Let us decide who is right, and what path we will follow!" Ursus
pumped his fist into the air, "I speak for all gorillas in saying we
approve of the Ruling Class's resolution of war, and will execute it to
the fullest!"
   The gorillas all stood up and began to roar boisterously.  A second
later, they were followed by virtually all the members of the orangutan
Ruling Class.
   Finally, several apes in the chimpanzee section got to their feet to
join in.  Even so, Zira felt a small measure of satisfaction that it
was only one-quarter to one-third of the chimpanzees.  At the very
least, she had not been completely ignored.
   The guardsman's horn blew again to signal quiet.  Claudius, his
expression curiously neutral, looked about the chamber and said in an
equally neutral tone, "Is there any need to put the matter to a formal
vote?"
   "In the interest of upholding parliamentary delicacy, Mr. President,
I say yes." Dr. Zaius said as he briefly rose and then sat down again.
   "Very well.  On the resolution that we, the united citizens of Ape
City, hereby resolve on this day to declare war against all species of
mankind known to exist within the Forbidden Zone, and vow to
exterminate them from the face of the planet----"
   "AYE!  AYE!  AYE!  AYE!" all but two of the orangutans, one-third of
the chimpanzees and all of the gorillas got to their feet, roaring and
stomping their approval.  They kept it up for more than three minutes
before Claudius could resume.
   "Those who wish to put themselves on the public record as opposed?"
he gazed up toward the chimpanzee section, as did all other eyes in the
amphitheater.
   Zira wasted no time, bolting to her feet.  Cornelius followed a
half-second later, determined to stand by his wife to the end.  Soon,
the remaining two-thirds of the chimpanzees, some looking reluctant,
were on their feet as well.  The two orangutans who had not joined in
the affirmative vote were remaining in their seats, as though they did
not want to give the impression of standing in the way, no matter what
their own personal feelings were.
   "Clearly, the majority favors the resolution," Claudius said in the
same neutral tone, "Ape Law has spoken.  Let us make no delay in
implementing the will of the majority.  This Assembly is now
adjourned."
   He rose from his seat and departed off to the wings of the
proscenium while the guard sounded the note for adjournment on his
horn.
   As the apes began to file out, General Ursus took the occasion to
make one final loud boast.
   "We will heed the directive and begin the Glorious Crusade
immediately!  We set out for the Forbidden Zone within the hour!"
   The gorillas all eagerly pumped their fists into the air and let out
several shouts as they followed their general out.
   Ten minutes later, Cornelius and Zira found themselves the only ones
still sitting in the empty amphitheater.
   "History may well record this as the beginning of the end of our
civilization," Cornelius said with a sad sigh.
   "If there be those left to write History," Zira kept staring out
into the empty amphitheater.
   The archeologist glanced at his wife and somewhat awkwardly squeezed
her hand.  Zira almost blushed as she felt her husband's touch and
then, looking about to make sure they were alone, gave him a quick
kiss.
   Finally, the two chimpanzees rose and left the amphitheater, still
holding each other by the hand more tightly than they ever had before.


   Boxey's journey through the tunnel had taken him through more than
twenty rusted, wrecked transport vehicles and had seen him pass what
seemed like several auxiliary stations along the way.  But always, the
red glow guiding him had kept motioning him to keep following the
tunnel to the very end and ignore the auxiliary stations.  And so, he
had resisted the temptation to vault up to the platforms at the places
marked CHRISTOPHER STREET, 9th STREET, 14th STREET and 23rd STREET. 
Whatever was guiding him clearly wanted him to go all the way to the
end of the line at the point marked 33rd STREET.
   Finally, the end of the tunnel was in sight, terminating in a much
larger station.  It gave the impression of being some kind of major hub
for travelers to get off at, and in all likelihood transfer to other
tunnels that led to other places.
   From the constant glow of the red light and the repeated blasts of
cold air though, it was clear to Boxey that he wouldn't be transferring
to another shuttle line.  He could see the glow pointing toward a
stairway that he was convinced led to the surface of what this city had
once been, if not back to the surface he had originally come from.
   Boxey tossed his survival gear onto the top of the platform and
vaulted himself up.  He stopped for a brief moment of rest to consume
another protein bar and finish off the first of his water bottles.  As
he rested, he cast a glance at some of the rusted, decayed wreckage
about him to see if he could figure out what it meant.  Above him, an
ancient mechanical chronometer stood permanently stopped at a time of
day he couldn't begin to figure out.  To his left, he saw a cracked
glass window and the rotted remains of unidentifiable objects.  It put
him in mind of a window display for a merchandising store.  He almost
suspected that the word etched into the wall to the left of the window,
GIMBEL'S, had been the name of that particular place of business.
   To the right of the window was the stairway leading up, where he
knew he had to go.  He felt a sense of trepidation rise inside him as
he repacked his gear and got to his feet.  But Boxey already knew that
the future of his people conceivably hinged on what lay above.
   He rubbed his fingers over his grandfather's medallion and took his
first step toward what he hoped would be the final phase of this
strange journey into the unknown. 


   After endless centars of wandering about through fields and forest
through the night, Starbuck felt as though he was going to collapse
from the strain.  In spite of the fact that he'd been unconscious for
most of the previous afternoon, he still wished he could lie down and
sleep for a whole sectan.
   Hera though, kept insisting they move on.  And he was past the point
where he felt like pulling rank on her.  As much as he wished he could
sleep, he was also consumed with a burning anger and hatred of the
entire siminoid society.  The sooner he could tell Apollo about it, and
see to it that an entire assault team of vipers was sent in to level
their civilization from Hell, the better he'd feel.
   The last centars of darkness had given them no conception of where
they were by the time daylight broke.  As a result, they'd simply
ambled from field to forest and back, always making certain there were
no siminoid scout patrols in the area.  Without any weapons at this
point, they knew that if one of them appeared, it would mean a quick
trip back to Ape City and back to the cages.
   Or something far worse than that, as Starbuck knew all too well.
   "Hold it," Hera stopped in her tracks and held up her arm.
   "What?" Starbuck sounded concerned.  "You see siminoids?"
   "No," Hera shook her head and then held up her hand to shield her
eyes from the glare as she looked ahead down the open expanse of field. 
"I see....Lords of Kobol, I see our vipers!"
   "Thank you," the grizzled captain rolled his eyes heavenward.
   The two warriors made their way across the field toward the ships,
and then felt the cruel sting of disappointment when they saw that they
had been vandalized.
   "Oh frack!" Starbuck moaned, "What happened?"
   "I think some of our brother humans got curious and pulled out all
the circuits," Hera sighed as she inspected the nose of her own viper.
   "That's gratitude for you," he snorted, "After all we did for them
yesterday."
   "Well, at least we've got our reference points straightened out,"
Hera said.  "The forest on the left leads back to the maize field.  Ape
City is then five miles to the southwest."
   "We haven't put enough distance from it then," Starbuck said, "Any
suggestions on where we can go from here, since we can't contact the
Galactica?"
   Hera seemed to hesitate slightly, "Well....yes, there is.  I can
take us back to where I hid from the siminoids yesterday.  Plenty of
water and food.  I'd say we're only four miles away from it."
   He noticed the look on her face, "But?"
   "No but," she said hastily, "I'm willing to head there if you feel
like it."
   "I do," Starbuck frowned slightly and wondered what it was that
would make her hesitate over something like that. "Lead on."
   Hera took a breath to alleviate the awkward tension inside her. 
Inside, she prayed with all her strength that when they reached the
lagoon there would be no sign of the blue-eyed primitive she had spent
an intimate afternoon with.  The last thing she wanted to do was have
to face him again.  If only because she didn't want to confront any
potential feelings of guilt.
   But then again, it was preferable to facing the siminoids again, she
reflected as she and Starbuck resumed their trek to safety.


   As Cornelius and Zira finished their walk back from the
amphitheater, they came into the main square of Ape City and saw that
General Ursus had wasted no time at all organizing his army for their
journey to the Forbidden Zone.
   "There must be more than two hundred of them," the archeologist said
with distaste as he and his wife moved over into an alleyway to stay
out of sight, "All of them prepared to spill as much blood as they
possibly can."
   "Will it end up being human blood, or theirs?" Zira mused darkly.
   At the front of the column of horses, they could see General Ursus
in the lead position holding his rifle triumphantly in the air as he
motioned the gorillas to begin their advance.  Within five minutes, the
pack had moved out of Ape City and out onto the trails that led first
to the jungle and then to the desert.


   It had taken nearly three hours for the landram to traverse most of
the desert areas, climbing up several hilly inclines and then forced to
move back down a sand dune on another occasion.  Twice, the heat
outside became so unbearable, that Sergeant Bernabe was forced to come
inside from the observer/gunnery post and trade places with Ares.  When
the older security guard found the heat too intense, Brent volunteered
to switch places for the next stretch.
   "See anything familiar?" Cassiopeia inquired of Rollins, as the
landram moved back to a level surface.
   "No," the American astronaut shook his head, still finding it hard
to believe that he was traversing over the ground where the city he had
grown up in once existed.  "It's......I can't begin to make you realize
how different this place is.  We might have----" he broke off.
   "Might have what?" Ares asked.
   Rollins drew up his shoulders, "The only thing I can think of is
that there was a war between the great nations.  A war that we'd been
trying to avoid for generations.  Maybe something.... God something
happened that finally set it off."
   "What kind of a war?" this from Athena.  "What was the most advanced
type of weaponry your civilization had?"
   "Nuclear missiles," Rollins said, wondering if the term had any
meaning for them.  It didn't take him more than an instant to realize
that it did, when he saw the reactions on the Colonials faces.
   "Nuclear missiles," Athena said in disbelief as she kept driving the
landram, "Ballistic missiles fired from ground level on an orbiting
arc, designed to destroy a city on the other side of the planet through
an explosion leaving the place a radon wasteland?"
   "That's right," Rollins said in amazement, "You're familiar with
them, I take?"
   "Long ago in the early history of some of our planets, before they
achieved a united government," Athena said, "They were never necessary
again after planetary warfare became an obsolete concept in our
civilization."
   "Lucky for you," Rollins sighed, "I guess we just never had an enemy
outside this planet to similarly motivate us.  But whatever happened,
at least thank God the ultimate weapon was never used.  Because if it
were, there wouldn't be an Earth still around."
   "The ultimate weapon?" Cassiopeia felt herself tingling with unease.
   "Yes," the colonel nodded, "A little thing called the Alpha-Omega
bomb.  Only three of them existed in the late 20th century.  I have no
idea if they were destroyed before the destruction took place, but they
couldn't have been used without destroying the entire planet."
   "How is that possible?" Athena was shocked by this revelation, "In
our technology, we've learned to develop laser weaponry that can
inflict massive levels of planet wide destruction, but how can a single
weapon destroy an entire planet?"
   "The way the principle works is that if it's set off, the ensuing
explosion sets off a chain reaction within the atmosphere that
literally sucks all the oxygen and everything else that makes the air
breathable out completely.  You'd have an Earth that became a planet
where the air is constantly on fire and burning until another chain
reaction would have to inevitably take place at the core blowing the
planet apart."
   "Why would your civilization have built such a weapon?" Cassiopeia
was horrified, "Especially when there was no outside invader to
conceivably use it against?"
   "It was meant as the ultimate bluff," Rollins said, "The idea is
that an adversary wouldn't run the risk of going to a regular nuclear
war that they felt they could win if the other side was willing to
destroy the rest of the world in the process by using the Alpha-Omega
bomb."
   "Incredible," Athena shook her head, as she maneuvered the landram
up an incline.
   "Major Athena!" Brent's voice came over the radio from outside. 
Already, he'd had no trouble adjusting to their equipment, "I think
we're nearing the end of the desert.  I can see some green areas off in
the distance."
   "That checks with our readings," Athena nodded, "We should be
reaching the beginning of the jungle areas in less than fifteen of your
minutes."  she paused briefly and then abruptly brought the landram to
a stop.
   "What's wrong?" Rollins asked.
   "Nothing," the senior Galactica warrior turned around, "Bernabe, go
out and trade places again with Brent.  I want to have a trained
warrior in the gunnery position for when we reach the habitable zones."
   The young sergeant nodded as he opened the door and stepped outside.
   "Are you expecting trouble, Major?" Rollins asked somewhat
quizzically.
   "Not necessarily," Athena said, "But since three of our own warriors
have disappeared without a trace, I think prudence dictates we be
prepared for the likelihood that there's something hostile there."
   The Air Force colonel, who had flown fifty combat missions in
Vietnam before joining the Astronaut Corps, nodded in understanding. 
"I see your point.  Brent and I have combat experience, but certainly
not with your kinds of weaponry."
   As soon as a visibly sweating Brent was back inside and the door
closed, Athena started up the landram again.  
   "Christ it's hot out there," the sandy-haired astronaut said as he
collapsed into his seat next to Rollins and gratefully took the offered
water bottle from Cassiopeia, "This feels more like we should be in
Arizona or New Mexico.  Not New Jersey."
   "The desert regions of our country," Rollins said to the Galactica
warriors, "Over three thousand miles away to the southwest."
   Cassiopeia faintly shook her head to indicate her amazement.
   "I guess you're planning on reconsidering when it comes to settling
on this planet," Brent said.
   "Not a bit," Athena shook her head, "We've always had contingency
plans on what kind of Earth we might have to deal with, including this
one.  We'll find a way to reclaim it.  Somehow."
   "You really think you can do that?" Rollins was amazed.
   "You'd be surprised to see what we're capable of," Athena said, "And
knowing my brother, who's the Commander of our Fleet, he won't give up
on Earth so easily."
   "I hope you're right," Brent said quietly, as he thought briefly
about his daughter and how much time she had left in the distant 20th
century that he desperately wanted to return to more than ever.  "I
wouldn't want to think that the Earth has no hopeful future at all."	
      

   "It should be in back of this forest region," Hera motioned.
   "I hope so," Starbuck felt himself wheezing slightly after the long
walk.  "After all this walking barefoot, I think I've rubbed both my
feet completely raw."
   "I know what you mean," Hera admitted, "My boots are the one piece
of clothing I wish I could have kept."
   "I wish I'd known where they stashed away mine before I made my
escape," Starbuck said as he followed her into the foliage.
   "One thing I've got to warn you about," she said, "If we encounter
any of those humans, don't say a word.  If they hear us talk, they'll
be hearing the language of the beasts that try to kill them.  They may
gang up on us and treat us as the enemy."
   "The way those brutes treat them, I don't blame them," the grizzled
warrior grunted, "Fracking monsters."
   Several moments later they heard the noise of the waterfall up
ahead.  Hera took another anxious breath as they reached the clearing
and stepped onto the rock formation just above the lagoon.  To her
relief, she saw that there were no humans gathered here.  She wouldn't
have to worry about seeing the blue-eyed one again, making a possessive
play for her, and then being forced to explain something to Starbuck
that she wanted to remain her secret forever.
   "We're in luck," she said aloud, "We have the place all to
ourselves."
   They both jumped in and relaxed in the lagoon's cool waters for more
than a half centar, helping themselves to some of the fruit that had
fallen off the surrounding trees.
   Hera was leisurely floating on her back when she heard the distant
rumbling noise.  She stood up and craned her head, trying to see if it
became more distinct.
   Starbuck, gorging himself on his sixth piece of fruit looked over
with concern, "What's wrong?"
   "You hear that?" Hera whispered.
   "No," Starbuck shook his head.
   "Listen."
   Starbuck had to cup a hand to his ear and then noticed it.
   "Frack," he whispered, "Equine beats for sure."
   "There must be more than a hundred siminoid scouts on the move,"
Hera said, "I don't think we should stay here."
   "Wait!" Starbuck protested as she swam back over to the ledge, "If
they're out in the field, why should we leave?"
   "Because we have to see if they go past us, or if they plan on
breaking up and searching the forest regions," Hera said with the
faintest edge of exasperation, "If we don't have some inkling of which
way they're moving, we can't form any coherent plans ourselves.  Now
let's get moving!"
   "But--" Starbuck tried to protest but to no avail as Hera lifted
herself out of the water.
   Sooner or later, I am going to have to start reestablishing my
position with her, he thought as he finally swam over to the ledge to
catch up with her.  


   The two hundred ape army of horseback riders was proceeding at a
medium-sized pace that would take them toward the Forbidden Zone when
General Ursus abruptly brought his lead horse to a stop on the incline
that offered an unobstructed view for the next five miles ahead of
them.
   "Binoculars!" he barked to his chief aide, Colonel Urko, who
promptly handed him a pair.  The gorilla looked through the lenses for
a minute, staring intently at the sight that was at first no more than
a tiny dot, and then began to take shape into something that he nor any
other ape had ever seen the likes of before.
   "By the Lawgiver," he said in amazement under his breath, "A
horseless vehicle."
   "What do you see sir?" Urko inquired anxiously.
   "A horseless vehicle," he repeated more loudly, "Those Demons from
the Forbidden Zone have more than just fire guns, they have horseless
vehicles!"
   "But how can a vehicle move without horses to carry them?" Captain
Quintus spoke up from the second column, "It's a scientific absurdity!"
   "Look for yourself, Captain!" Ursus roared and handed the binoculars
back to Urko, who in turn passed them to Quintus.  "And there is
clearly one human riding it!  It is unquestionably the vanguard of an
invasion force!"
   Quintus lowered the binoculars, an expression of shock on his face,
"The human wears the strange clothes the ones with the fire guns did."
   "Proving once and for all that Dr. Zira has the mental capacity of a
baboon when it comes to understanding humans," Ursus said with
delicious contempt.  "They think we can be intimidated by the sight of
something we have never seen before.  But we will show that superior
numbers can defeat their superior toys!  Advance!" he raised his arm,
"Advance!"
   The procession began to move again, rapidly picking up speed as they
closed the distance.


   "Oh frack!" Athena gritted her teeth as she checked her computer
scanner, "I took us too far to the west.  There's at least one forest
region separating us from the field area where the vipers are parked."
   "Should we backtrack?" Cassiopeia inquired.
   "We might as well just move forward and put us on a parallel track,"
the major shook her head, "Once we reach the spot, we can check them
out on foot."
   Just then, her scanner started to emit a number of large pinging
sounds.
   "What's that?" Rollins frowned.
   "We just got a number of lifeform contacts heading this way," Athena
frowned, "But according to this readout, they're not human."
   "Major Athena!" Bernabe's voice came through from the outside, "I
see something on the horizon about two miles distant.  Looks like a
pack of equines."   
   "You sure of that?" Athena kept her eye on the scanner.
   "Positive."
   "What's an equine?" Brent asked with slight befuddlement.
   Ares gestured with his hands to indicate size, "It's a riding animal
with four legs and a mane of hair around the neck----"
   "I think that's what we call a horse," Rollins said dryly.
   "Looks as though we'll need to comprise a dictionary for each of our
cultures to share," Cassiopeia quipped.
   "Bernabe, can you tell if it's a wild pack or if there are riders on
them?" Athena was still frowning at the scanner.
   "I can't make out who's riding them yet Major, but it's definitely
not a wild pack."
   "Wait a minute," Rollins moved forward to the front of the landram,
"How can that scanner of yours say there are no human contacts?  No
other species on Earth is capable of riding horses."
   "But the scanner----" Athena started and then stopped as she looked
out the window and her jaw fell open in stunned shock.
   "Major!" Bernabe shouted from outside, "Major, do you see it?  Do
you see it?"
   There was no response from Athena, or from Cassiopeia, Rollins,
Brent and Ares.  They could see the equines drawing closer and they
could now make out the creatures riding them.
   "My God," Rollins whispered.


   Starbuck and Hera had pushed their way to the edge of the forest
perimeter.  They kept themselves crouched low to get a clear view of
the gorilla army that they could already hear coming from their right.
   "Should be coming by any micron now," Starbuck craned his head to
the right, "Let's hope they just go past us and we can stay here for a
few more centars."
   Standing to Starbuck's left, Hera noticed something out of her
peripheral vision that caused her to glance away to the left.  Her eyes
promptly widened to the size of a triad ball and she frantically tapped
Starbuck's shoulder.
   "Starbuck," she whispered frantically, "There's a landram headed
this way!"
   "What?" the grizzled warrior turned to the left and he then saw the
unmistakable sight of a Galactica landram.  He could make out the brown
of a uniform jacket from someone perched in the gunnery position.
   "Lords of Kobol," he said, "Just one landram heading into a pack the
size they have, and they're going to end up in the same fix we've been
in."
   "We've got no choice," Hera said, "Let's move down to try and get
parallel to her and then make a break when she comes alongside us."
   "Agreed," Starbuck nodded as they moved off to the left through the
branches and foliage.


   From the gunnery position, Sergeant Bernabe stood frozen in numb
shock as he saw the equines draw closer, and could make out the
leather-clad siminoids riding them.  A creature he had only seen in the
long-ago depths of childhood nightmares.
   Inside the landram, the three Colonials and the two American
astronauts were equally shocked, unable to think of anything coherent
to say as Athena kept driving the landram toward the approaching pack
as though she were on automatic pilot.
   "That's not possible," Brent finally broke the silence, "That is
simply not possible."
   "We have to believe it," Cassiopeia tried to shake herself out of
her dazed disbelief, "Those are gorillas riding them, and they look
like they're an army waiting to charge us."
   "They've got guns!" Rollins blurted as he squinted his eyes and got
a better look.
   Athena finally snapped back to attention and hit the intercom,
"Bernabe, stand by on main gun!"
   There was no response.
   "Bernabe?" Athena repeated angrily, "Answer me, damn you!"
   Finally, the sergeant's voice filled the interior, "Sorry Major. 
Standing by on main gun."
   "The instant you see one of them so much as raise a weapon, you open
fire," Athena barked, "Understood?"
   "Yes sir!" Bernabe cleared his throat.
   "Athena, let's turn this thing around and get the hell out of here,"
Cassiopeia said with concern.
   "Not yet," she gritted her teeth, "Not until I get them to scatter."
   Over the noise of the landram engine, the five humans inside
suddenly heard multiple cracks as they realized that the advancing
patrol had come to a stop, a half mile away and opened fire on them. 
Rollins and Brent both scrambled to the floor of the vehicle and were
amazed to see that none of the three Colonials followed suit.
   "Numo fire only," Athena said as she quickly applied the brake and
brought the landram to a stop, "Our plating can withstand it.  You two
can get up."
   As the two astronauts got back to their seats, Athena impatiently
clenched a fist when she didn't see a red streak from the landram's
powerful main gun streak back across toward the gorilla army.
   "Bernabe, open fire!" she shouted into the intercom, "Get off your
astrum and open fire!"
   There was no response.  And then, Cassiopeia let out a horrified
gasp when she saw the body of Bernabe suddenly tumble in front of the
cockpit window and bounce off to the side.  In a split second, the
Chief Medical Officer had time to see that the young sergeant had been
shot right in the face.


   "Their rider is down!" Urko shouted triumphantly as he reloaded his
rifle, "We have scored the first kill!"
   "Prepare to advance!" Ursus bellowed.


   "Holy Frack!" Starbuck said in horror as both he and Hera saw the
body of the warrior in the gunnery position tumble off, "They're
totally defenseless now."
   "Never mind getting inside that thing," Hera said, "One of us has to
get to the gun."
   "Grab that warrior's laser pistol and we'll both man the position,"
Starbuck said, feeling his command instinct come back at last.  "Let's
move!"


   "Athena, we've got to get out of here!" Cassiopeia shouted.
   The black-haired major nodded and swung the landram around.  The
five passengers just had time to see the horseback riders begin their
charge again, as they also heard multiple gun shots clang off the metal
exterior of the vehicle.
   "Look!" Rollins suddenly pointed, "Something's coming at us!"
   Athena glanced to her left and saw two disheveled humanoid creatures
in skimpy garments crash out of the jungle perimeter and suddenly climb
up the side of the moving vehicle. 
   "What the---"
   They heard the footsteps above them and then their bewilderment
increased when they heard the gun go off and start firing at the army
that was now to the rear.


   Starbuck wasted no time settling into the gunnery position and
immediately trained the giant laser on the heart of the gorilla pack. 
The massive laser bolt that was capable of destroying a Cylon fighter
flying overhead had an immediate effect as it knocked out two gorilla
riders on the front line of advance
   "Enjoy this, you ugly hairballs!" Starbuck shouted as he trained his
fire on the middle of the column.
   Another barrage of gunshots from the army rang out and Starbuck had
to duck as he heard several of them whiz over his head.  Hera, who had
situated herself on the opposite side of the landram roof with pistol
in hand, stuck her head up and fired two bursts back.
   "Who's up there?" they both heard the intercom next to the main gun
crackle, "Identify yourself."
   Starbuck and Hera both recognized Athena's voice right away.  The
grizzled warrior motioned to Hera as he re-aimed the heading of the
gun.
   "You talk to her," he said, "She's your relative."
   "Yes sir!" she flashed a cocky grin at him as she kept her head down
and reached for the intercom.


   "Glad you finally showed up," Hera's voice filled the landram
interior.
   A burst of excitement went up from Cassiopeia and Athena as soon as
they heard her voice.  Ares didn't bother to react.  He was still
filled with stunned horror at the sight of seeing the young warrior who
had been his protege fall to his death.
   "Hera!" Athena said with relief, "Thank the Lords!"
   "I know, I'll fill you in later," her niece said.  "Starbuck and I
are holding up the procession for now, but the sooner you put some
distance between us and those siminoids, the better."
   "What about Boxey?"
   "I'm sorry, I don't know where he is," Hera said as she paused to
look back and fire another laser burst at the pursuing gorillas, "The
three of us got separated yesterday and I only found Starbuck last
night.  I only know that Boxey hasn't been taken prisoner and has to be
off wandering somewhere."
   Another clang sounded as more bullets ricocheted off the landram's
metal casing.
   "Doesn't this thing go any faster?" Rollins demanded.
   "This vehicle is meant for exploring, not combat.  We're going as
fast as we can!" Athena said as she pushed the throttle as far as it
could go, but the landram seemed only to wheeze a bit as it continued
moving over the field grass at the same speed.
   "They look like they can match our speed," Cassiopeia glanced at the
scanner, not ready to let herself be overwhelmed by the news that
Starbuck was alive, "If they end up overtaking us and try to cut us
off, we're in big trouble."
   "Hera, Starbuck don't let up with your fire!" Athena barked, "The
more of them you take out, the sooner they might think twice about
pursuing."


   Because Starbuck and Hera had to keep their heads down to avoid the
constant barrage of numo shots they were not able to return as much
fire as they would have hoped.  Even so, they had succeeded in taking
out more than fifteen gorillas from the front rows of the approaching
columns.  Enough to cause Captain Quintus to feel more than a tinge of
concern.
   "General!" he called over to Ursus, "They are retreating!  Surely
there is no need to continue the pursuit when we've already taken
casualties."
   The gorilla general turned and glared at the officer with contempt.
   "We have them on the run!" Ursus declared boldly, "And we keep
pursuing them until they're destroyed!"
   Another laser blast then struck two gorilla riders barely ten feet
away from Quintus.
   "Sir, at this rate the casualties will be too large!" the captain
called out.
   Ursus ignored him and motioned his arm forward again, indicating
that he wanted the entire pack of horseback riders to increase their
speed.


   Starbuck felt the thud of another bullet strike the metal just in
front of the raised platform that held the laser gun.  If the platform
hadn't been there, he knew it would have gone right through his chest.
   "They're still gaining!" Hera shouted as she tried to work in
another shot, but found it more difficult as the intensity of the numo
blasts increased.
   "Frack, how many rounds do they carry with them?" Starbuck grunted,
"Numos can't have more than a dozen shots per round but it seems like
we've had more than twenty rounds fired at us."
   "We can't hold them back indefinitely," Hera said, "I think we ought
to change tactics."
   "How?" Starbuck didn't look at her as he rose to get off another
blast from the gun.
   The blonde ensign motioned her arm up, "We've got some pretty tall
trees on both sides of us."
   Starbuck glanced quickly to his left and right and realized what she
meant.  He nodded and swung the cannon to the right, taking aim at the
base of two trees lining the perimeter of the field.
   The laser blasts sliced right through the trees and they began to
topple down toward the field.  The grizzled warrior then swung the gun
in the other direction so he could aim for the trees lining the
opposite perimeter.  One blast promptly fell two more tall trees that
collapsed into the field right in front of the charging army.  The
gorilla riders had no advance warning to confront the obstacle, and the
lead horses promptly tripped over the fallen trees and threw their
riders clear.  A chain reaction set in as the riders at the rear of the
column frantically tugged at the reins to get their horses to stop,
while many more in the middle and front of the pack collided with each
other.
   "Yaaaa-hooo!" Starbuck whooped as he saw the organized gorilla
charge degenerate into comedic chaos.  He took advantage of the new
situation and unleashed his most lethal bursts of gunfire on the
gorillas that were now growing smaller in the distance as the landram
sped on.


   General Ursus had been among those at the front of the procession
that had been unprepared for the trees falling across the field.  The
front legs of his horse bumped against the leaves and branches of the
fallen tree's upper region and it promptly caused the gorilla leader to
go sailing off his mount completely.  He landed on his shoulder and
might have broken it were it not for the thickness of the field grass
to cushion his fall.
   Ursus had barely gotten himself to look up when he saw the chaotic
confusion setting in as more gorillas were thrown from their mounts and
sent tumbling into the field grass while many of the riders at the back
of the pack were now colliding with each other as part of their frantic
efforts to stop and avoid the obstacles of the fallen trees.  He then
saw his riderless horse moving on and had to roll quickly to avoid
being trampled on.
   As soon as Ursus got back to his feet but before he could shout out
a new order, he was forced to get down again when a heavy barrage of
red fire erupted from the human transport.
   "Sir!" Captain Quintus shouted from amidst the chaos that had broken
out, "It's too much for us to handle!  We must with--"
   Before the gorilla captain could finish, a laser blast struck him
right in the chest.  Quintus fell off his horse to the ground, making
no movement.
   Reluctantly, the general realized that his forces had been dealt an
enormous setback and that there was no point in trying to regroup for a
pursuit at this point.
   "Withdraw!" he barked as he then moved off to the safety of the
forest perimeter to escape more of the laser fire that was coming back
at them.  "Withdraw immediately!  Withdraw back to Ape City!"
   One of the enlisted personnel blew the retreat call on his battle
horn, and the remaining gorillas who'd been able to maintain control of
their mounts began to move back.  Those who'd been thrown to the ground
had scattered about into separate groups of those trying to get control
of their horses again, while others simply turned and ran.
   Ursus remained hidden within the perimeter as he waited to be
certain that the vehicle had ceased its fire.  Only after five minutes
had passed did the general finally decide it was safe to follow his
retreating army on the weary trip home.


   "They've retreated!" Starbuck was grinning with an almost malicious
satisfaction that he'd finally gotten in some good licks against the
beasts he had come to despise with as much passion as he hated Cylons.
   Hera allowed herself a moment of relief and thanks that the
siminoids had been beaten back.  But tempered with that relief was the
reminder that her brother was still missing, a warrior was dead, and
the Fleet faced many troubling questions concerning their own future on
this planet called Earth.
   "Athena," she picked up the intercom, "We got them on the run.  I
think we'll be okay for now."
   "Thank the Lords," her aunt sighed, "Okay, we're heading back to the
Galactica immediately and give the Commander a full report.  We're too
crowded to let the both of you in, but I'll get some relief out for you
as soon as we reach the desert and put some more distance between us
and them."
   Immediately, Hera wanted to protest about the need to keep looking
for Boxey.  Still, she knew that her aunt's decision was the best
possible tactical procedure.  The Fleet needed to know about this
siminoid planet and formulate definite ideas.  The information she and
Starbuck possessed would be vital to that.


   "Where are you taking us?" Rollins asked with concern as he heard
the end of Athena's conversation.
   Athena didn't look at the astronaut, "We're going back to our
command ship, the Galactica, Colonel.  Our people need the information
on what Starbuck and Hera saw."
   Brent felt an uneasy sensation come over him as he saw his
commander's jaw slightly lock up.  From what he'd deduced about
Rollins' obsession with finding Taylor, the commander was not about to
leave willingly.
   Rollins wasted little time bearing his second-in-command's feelings
out.
   "Major Athena," he said politely, "I appreciate the fact that you
need to report back to your people, and I'm grateful that you've found
most of your missing comrades.  But Major Brent and I still have a job
to do ourselves."
   "I can't let you go, Colonel," Athena finally turned around, "For
now, you and Major Brent are the only two Earth people who can provide
us with some concrete information about Earth's past, and our commander
has to know that.  As soon as we can put a stronger search team
together, I'm sure we'll be more than happy to help you resume your
search for your missing friends."
   "After seeing what it is they're conceivably up against, I'm not
anxious to delay searching," Rollins kept his voice polite but firm.
   "Colonel, you and Major Brent wouldn't stand a chance all by
yourselves against those creatures, or against the desert, because
those are the only two places you can search.  From a practical
standpoint, it's best that you accompany us."
   "Major--,"Rollins started, but was cut off by his second-in-command.
   "Skipper, I think She's right.  If Taylor and the others are still
alive, we won't be able to do much for them without any kind of
reinforcements."
   Rollins glared at him for a minute as though he was angry that his
authority as commander of the expedition had been questioned in front
of the strangers.  It was clear though that the Air Force colonel
didn't want to make a scene, so he finally reluctantly nodded.
   "Okay," he said, "We go, but we sure as hell don't stay too long."
   Around them, the green lushness of the forests and jungles became
more sparse as the brown desolation of the desert started to take over. 
When the landram finally descended the difficult incline they'd
traveled up only a centar earlier, Athena finally decided it was safe
to bring the vehicle to a stop.
   "Okay," she said as she rose from her chair, "Cassie, let's get
Starbuck and Hera inside and start examining them.  Ares, you take
charge of the gunnery mount for now."
   The veteran security guard didn't move or respond.  He'd been
uncharacteristically quiet and mute ever since he'd seen Bernabe's
bleeding, lifeless body tumble in front of the landram windows.
   "Ares?" Athena gently repeated.  When the lieutenant still didn't
move, her tone grew angry, "Lieutenant!"
   Brent calmly nudged the warrior to get his attention.  Ares finally
looked up with a blank, indifferent expression.
   "I told you to get your astrum up on the mount," Athena said coldly,
"Now move!"
   "Athena," Cassiopeia said gently, sensing what was bothering Ares,
"Maybe we should just stop for now and have us all take a breather from
this.  We've put enough distance between us and them."
   The black-haired major pondered that suggestion for a moment, nodded
and then brought the landram to a stop along the desert surface.
   A second later, the outer door opened and Starbuck and Hera were
both poking their heads in.
   "Thanks a lot, Athena," Starbuck grinned, "As always, your sense of
timing is quite impeccable."
   Athena and Cassiopeia both did double takes when they saw how grimy
and disheveled Starbuck looked, and how he was wearing only a small
loincloth.  Their bewilderment increased when they saw Hera looking
roughly the same.
   "What in Hades happened to you two?" Cassiopeia stared in amazement
at her ex-husband.
   Starbuck collapsed into the chair vacated by Ares, who had stepped
outside.  At the same time, Brent had risen from his seat and yielded
it to Hera, who was staring quizzically at him and Rollins, both
dressed in their white NASA jumpsuits that automatically told the young
ensign that they didn't come from the Fleet.
   "Long and complicated story, Cass," he said.  Ordinarily, he might
have started with some typical Starbuck gallows humor, but not after an
ordeal like this.
   His ex-wife impulsively reached out and squeezed his hand.  He
looked up at her with a mixture of faint amusement and deep gratitude. 
This was the first time since their divorce five yahrens earlier that
he could recall her reaching out to touch him for any reason.
   "Major Athena, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask a question of your
friends first.  It's the only one I have," Rollins inquired gently.
   "Go ahead, Colonel," Athena nodded, knowing what it was the two
Earth natives from the past wanted to know, and figuring that he was
bound to get a quick no and they could move on.
   "Ah, Captain Starbuck, my name is Rollins and this is my friend,
Brent.  Before you tell your friends what they need to know, can you
tell me if you know anything about some people Brent and I are looking
for?"
   Starbuck stared at Rollins as he tried to figure out the meaning of
his question.  He then snapped his fingers as the light dawned.
   "Let me guess," the grizzled captain said, "You're not from our
tribe."
   "That's correct," Rollins nodded, "Brent and I are Earth natives who
came from Earth's past to look for some fellow space travelers who
crashed through a time barrier here."
   Starbuck slowly nodded as the details of the lengthy conversation
with Cornelius and Zira came back to him.
   "Of course," Starbuck said, "Now I get it.  Now it all makes sense,"
he paused, "Is one of those people you're looking for named Taylor?"
   From outside, Brent grasped his hands on the doorway so he could
lean in and listen.
   "Then you know where he is?" Rollins felt a surge of anticipation go
through him.
   Starbuck shook his head, "I never met him.  I know where he was, and
where he was last seen, but I haven't the slightest idea where he is
now."
   Incredible, Cassiopeia thought.  It's like we're part of some nexus
slowly coming together.
   "Well ladies and gentlemen," Athena was equally amazed, "I think the
time has come for another long session of sharing information with each
other.  Let's stay here for now until we're all up to speed on things."


   Boxey was unprepared for what he saw when he reached the top of the
steps that exited from the underground transportation station.  Around
him, he could see cavernous subterranean rock formations extending all
the way up where he could barely make out patches of daylight from the
distant surface above.  And mixed in with those rock formations were
the crumbling remains of towering buildings all about him.  Clearly
this had been one of the most important, if not the most important city
of this entire bygone civilization.
   It's almost like what Caprica City must have been like in the fifth
millennia, he thought with awed amazement.  Millions of people must
have lived here.
   Millions.  The thought was enough to almost make him cry in mourning
for what the Thirteenth Tribe had once been, and for what they had now
become.  It was as if the Thirteenth Tribe had been forced to endure
their own version of the Cylon Holocaust.  Thousands of yahrens of
accomplishments and civilization wiped out in only a brief period of
time.
   To Boxey's amazement, there seemed to be some kind of natural or
unnatural source of light that provided enough general illumination of
his surroundings, since there was no way any light from above could
penetrate this far down.  But the red glow that had guided him
continued to cast a stronger light, and still beckoned for him to
follow.
   He passed a building that towered so high that it's upper most
levels barely managed to penetrate the distant surface, one thousand
feet up.  Then, a left turn onto a street where a twisted sign still
proclaimed 5th AVENUE.  This was where the red glow now guided him.  He
sensed that it was on this desolated street, he would finally reach the
end of the trail.
   For a half centar he walked up the wreckage-strewn street.  Past a
stately looking building on the left where two leonine sculptures stood
silent guard in front of what Boxey didn't realize was a giant library. 
Past overturned transportation vehicles and more crumbling buildings. 
And mixed in with that debris, he could occasionally see a decayed
skeleton.  For just a brief micron, he shuddered and wondered if that
kind of ignoble fate had happened to the people who'd been struck down
in the streets by the Cylon attack on the Colonies.  Their bodies left
to decay and decompose to dust amidst the crumbling wrecks of their
homes.
   It only took another micron for him to realize that he could easily
have ended up like that himself, when he'd gone through the attack on
Caprica City at age six.
   Finally, he saw the red glow start to dissipate.  It now cast a glow
around one building only.  A building that seemed to have been full of
grandeur and dignity before the devastation.  A building with towers
and spires rising up that reminded him of the pictures he'd once seen
of a typical Kobollian house of worship.
   This was it.  The force that had cast the red glow across so many
miles, and had beckoned him inside from the desert above originated
here.  Inside the building where a faded, chipped sign still
proclaimed: ST. PATRICK'S CATHEDRAL.
   He walked up the smashed ruins of some steps and then pulled on the
handle of a large metal door.  After fingering Adama's medallion one
more time for luck, he took a breath and stepped inside.
   What he saw matched his mental image of what a cavernous house of
worship would look like.  A vast open interior, rows of benches, and
some strange looking object on what looked like an altar.  A long
narrow object, about twenty feet long, standing upright.
   Is that supposed to be an object of veneration?  he thought
dubiously as he stared at it.  There were no markings on the silver
object save for two different symbols on the tail end that for some
reason looked vaguely familiar to him, though he couldn't figure out
why.
   The contours of the object were also beginning to strike a chord
inside him.  It almost resembled a.....
   Boxey's confused train of thought was suddenly disrupted by a sound
coming from his left.  A back and forth whirring sound that was
definitely familiar to him. 
   The sound of a Cylon centurion.
   The Galactica warrior went absolutely motionless.  Refusing to move
a muscle or breathe a syllable for almost a minute before his right
hand slowly went to his holster.
   Then, in one lightning quick motion he whipped out his pistol,
assumed the position and fired to his left.
   He could see the lone centurion standing with its own laser gun
raised.  And then, an expression of shock came over him when he saw
that his own laser shot had struck the Cylon right in the
breastplate.....and had no effect whatsoever.  The centurion remained
erect, moving toward him with gun raised.  
   What the frack.....?
   Boxey opened fire again.  The red streak impacted right on the
breastplate and once again had no effect.  It was as if the Cylon had
completely absorbed the blast and drawn strength from it.
   The Cylon opened fire and Boxey felt the horrible searing pain of
the blast striking into his body.  He staggered backward and clutched
at his chest, expecting to feel the burnt flesh of his wound.....Only
to discover that there was no wound on his chest.
   Slowly, the effects of the horrible pain dissipated as Boxey shook
his head and body and tried to catch his breath.  He stared at the spot
where he had felt the laser blast, and saw nothing to indicate that
he'd been shot at all.
   His gaze returned to the lone Cylon, who stood there like a statue. 
Never saying anything.  Never making another move.
   "You're not real," Boxey whispered at first.  And then, his voice
grew into a shout, "You're not real!"
   Abruptly, the Cylon vanished in the blink of an eye.
   A wave of anger rushed through the warrior as his head darted about
the Cathedral chamber.
   "All right, whoever you are, show yourself!" he shouted at the top
of his voice, his words echoing inside the cavernous building. "You've
led me all the way here, now show yourself!"
   He heard the sound of a door opening on the far side of the chamber
and promptly turned his head in that direction.  He could see a
relatively handsome dark-skinned man dressed in an immaculately clean
robe that reminded Boxey of the formal robes the members of the Council
of Twelve wore.  The only major difference was that this man also wore
some type of hood that clung tightly to the top of his head.  The man
had a neutral expression as he motioned his arm toward Boxey,
indicating that he follow him.
   Boxey kept his pistol drawn as he followed the man.  They went
through the door and then down a passageway that gradually sloped
downward.  When they reached the bottom, Boxey was surprised to see how
clean and new the corridor looked.  There were no traces of ancient
wreckage at this level.  Instead, there was an almost endless row of
sculpted busts lining the hallway on both sides.  As they moved on,
Boxey had time to glance at the names underneath each of the faces. 
MENDEZ III.  MENDEZ IV.  MENDEZ V.  MENDEZ VI.  On and on, the names
and numbers went all the way up to MENDEZ XXVI.
   Clearly this was a gallery of ruling monarchs over the many yahrens. 
And for whatever reason, each monarch always took the name Mendez.
   "Is your name Mendez?" Boxey finally decided to break the ice as he
kept following the dark-skinned man.
   The man didn't answer.  When they came to the end of the corridor,
Boxey noticed a ladder that led up.  Again, the man motioned Boxey to
follow him as he mounted the rungs.
   When they reached the next level, Boxey saw that they were back
among the ruins of the city, this time in a building that resembled the
transportation stations he had been in earlier.  But this one was far
more elaborate in design, and gave all the indications of having been
the most important one in the entire city.
   The dark-skinned one moved up a flight of stairs that led to some
kind of walkway that overlooked the main Concourse where Boxey now
stood.  He saw that there were three other humans standing along the
railing of the walkway looking down at him.  A light-skinned fat man. 
An older white man with gray eyebrows.  And an attractive looking woman
of about thirty on the far end.  Like the dark-skinned one, they all
wore identical white robes and hoods.
   Welcome.
   Boxey's head darted about as he tried to figure out where the male
voice that had spoken that word originated from.  None of the four
humans had moved their lips.  It meant that someone else had to have
spoken.
   Do not look around for others.  We are the only ones here.
   Boxey looked back at the humans and frowned.  None of them had moved
a muscle, and yet....
   "I hear you, and yet you're not speaking," the warrior spoke.
   You are quite correct, the male voice filled his ears.  Would you
prefer that we exercise the more primitive mode of speech?
   "Yes, I would!" Boxey vigorously nodded.  "Please."
   The gray-eyebrowed one stepped forward to the railing and looked
down at the Galactica warrior.
   "I, Mendez XXVI, bid you welcome," he said aloud, "We are most
grateful that you chose to heed our signals and come to us."
   "I'm sure," Boxey kept his tone neutral and diplomatic, "How did you
know I was up on the surface....."
   "We have our ways of knowing what goes on above us," the one called
Mendez said, "It is only what lies beyond our borders that is unknown
to us."
   Boxey blinked as he tried to figure out what that meant.  From all
indications, the man sounded like he was slightly crazy, but he wasn't
about to express that thought openly at this point.  Especially since
he'd already had a firsthand look at the kind of bizarre power these
people were capable of.
   "I'm assuming though, that you know who and what I am," Boxey said,
"That...illusion back there I saw.  You couldn't have summoned it up
unless you...."
   "We only have general impressions of who you are and where you come
from," the attractive female spoke.  "A quick observation of your mind,
enabled us to produce an image of the race that you fear the most.  It
was a test to confirm that you are indeed not of our planet."
   "I see," Boxey said with relief.  "That clears that matter up." 
   "But you have yet to completely clear up the matter of who you are,"
the fat man spoke for the first time.  "We only know that you come from
the stars, since the flying craft you came in is completely unknown to
us."
   "Yes, yes that's true," Boxey stepped forward.  "My people have
traveled a long way to find our brother humans, here on Earth.  You
can't imagine how relieved I am to finally find some intelligent humans
on this planet."
   "You have seen the primitive ones on the surface?" a hard edge crept
into the fat man's voice.
   "Yes," Boxey nodded.
   "Then you have seen much on the surface since your arrival."
   "Yes."
   "Our summons to you has not been in vain then," Mendez spoke again. 
"You are in a position to help us a great deal."
   "If I can," Boxey cautioned.
   "Can you tell us what you know of the apes and their plans?"
   The warrior stared blankly at him, "The what?"
   A dark cloud suddenly came over the faces of all four humans. 
Mendez, the fat man, the dark-skinned man, and the beautiful woman. 
Their reasonably benevolent expressions had suddenly grown hostile.
   Boxey suddenly felt an enormous wave of pain go through his body. 
First inside his head, he felt an enormous pressure building up as
though he'd been shot from the inside.  Coupled with that, was the most
aggravating sound he'd ever heard in his life filling his ears.
   He let out a sharp cry of pain as he collapsed to his knees and
rolled about the floor.  All of the manuals he had read about Cylon
torture techniques had not prepared him for this.  It was without
question, the most horrible pain he could ever have imagined short of
being killed.
   "Stop!..." he managed to spit out, as he rolled about the floor,
"Please......"
   "We will stop when you cease your attempts to deceive us," the fat
man spoke.
   "Deception is the mark of an enemy," Mendez added, "Those who wish
to deceive us, are entitled only to a full demonstration of our
capabilities."
   "I'm not...." Boxey moaned as he rolled about the floor feeling the
intense agony inside his head, ears and inner organs increase with each
passing micron, "I'm not deceiving you, I don't know what the frack
you're talking about!"
   The attractive woman suddenly grabbed Mendez's arm, "Perhaps we use
terminology that is unfamiliar to him."
   Mendez, the fat man, and the dark-skinned man looked at her
thoughtfully and then, one-by-one, they all nodded.
   Abruptly, Boxey felt the horrible pain inside him cease.  He gasped
for breath several times before he finally managed to get back on his
feet.
   "Let us put your theory to the test, Albina," Mendez said as he
looked down at Boxey, "I am referring to what you know about the beasts
that dominate the surface above.  The beasts called apes, who subjugate
the primitive ones and kill them for sport."
   Boxey closed his eyes and let out an agonized sigh, "The siminoids. 
The siminoids!  I know all about them, for sagan's sake."
   "My apologies," Mendez said politely but without too much regret,
"We did you a disservice.  It did not occur to us that you would know
them by another name."
   If these are the best examples of humanity the Earth has left to
offer, then we're in even bigger trouble, Boxey thought with both
disgust and alarm.
   "But now that we've settled that matter, you can help us," the woman
called Albina said in her lilting voice, "What do you know of the apes,
or the 'siminoids' as you call them?"
   The Galactica warrior took a breath, "I don't know too much," he
said, "I've seen them kill.  They're aggressive and brutal.  Right now,
they're holding at least one of my friends prisoner, perhaps two.  When
I saw your signal guiding me here, I hoped I might find some people who
could help me against them."
   "You have need of us?" this from the dark-skinned man, "To do what?"
   Boxey's confusion deepened, "Well to help me rescue my friends of
course.  To take some kind of counter-action against the siminoids.  I
can't do it alone."
   "Your own tribe can not assist you?" the fat man asked.
   "No," Boxey shook his head, "My ship was destroyed by the primitive
humans.  I can't contact my people for now, though they may have sent a
rescue team down by this point."
   "Tell us more about yourself," Albina urged.
   Boxey took a breath, "My name is Lieutenant Boxey.  I come from a
ship called the Battlestar Galactica.  I am one of 70,000 humans that
have spent the last twenty five yahrens searching for our brothers here
on Earth who settled this planet more than seven thousand of our
yahrens ago.  Since you are all human, then you surely must have some
knowledge of the fact that you are the descendants of the Thirteenth
Tribe of humanity."
   The four of them exchanged glances with each other, indicating that
what Boxey said meant absolutely nothing to them.
   "For us, Lieutenant, time has no meaning before the First Year of
the Bomb, two thousand years ago," Mendez said, "All time before then
is meaningless.  Our lives and our civilization begin only with the
Year of the Bomb, and the day when Mendez I built a new city underneath
the ashes of the old."
   They use the ancient Caprican term for yahren, Boxey realized. The
term the first Kobollian settlers would have used.  But that's about
the only sign of our culture that is here.
   "This....year of the Bomb," Boxey chose his words carefully, "Was
that when the war took place that destroyed the civilization above?"
   "All that was before the Holy Fallout descended upon us is unknown
to us," Mendez said cryptically.
   Fallout, Boxey thought.  Why does that sound familiar?  Then he
remembered his childhood physics classes and the session that had put
him to sleep about the effects of ancient nuclear weapons.  Weapons
that looked like.....
   Like what he had seen on the altar.
   "We have gotten ourselves sidetracked though, Lieutenant," the
dark-skinned man said, "You were saying that you desired our help
against the apes?"
   "Yes," Boxey tried not to let his unease show.
   "You would have us wage war against the apes?" the slightly dark
expression returned to Mendez's face, "Do you comprehend what you ask
of us in making this request?"
   An uneasy frown came over Boxey's face, "I don't think I do."
   "We are a race devoted to peace," this from the fat man, "As you
have no doubt observed, we are quite defenseless."
   "I don't think I did observe," Boxey mildly retorted, "That stunt
you pulled on me a centon ago was hardly the act of a defenseless
people.  Nor was conjuring the image of one of my own enemies."
   "Our powers of the mind are mere weapons of illusion," Albina said,
"We can only hurt our enemies, as you were hurt.  But have you been
permanently harmed?"
   "No," the warrior conceded.
   "Then what we say of being defenseless is quite true," Albina went
on, "The Traumatic Hypnosis we inflicted upon you is a weapon of
peace."
   Isn't this lovely, Boxey thought.  The humans on the surface are
primitive mutes with the minds of animals, and the ones down here who
can think belong in the Nuthouse.
   "If you're defenseless, then what about that missile I saw back in
the temple?" he wondered if that was the right word for an Earth house
of worship, "Isn't that a weapon?"
   The four humans stared at him with the most piercing expressions.
   "Your eyes have beheld our god," Mendez suddenly grew solemnly, "The
ultimate instrument of peace."
   It took Boxey a moment to realize the meaning of the ruler's bizarre
words.
   "My God," he whispered, "You worship a missile?"
   "The Holy Bomb," Albina spoke with reverence, "Blessed be the Bomb
Everlasting."
   Boxey stared at them with incredulous disbelief.  If he needed any
further convincing about the insanity of these people, he'd now been
given it.
   "You're crazy," he said, "You people are all crazy!"
   "Only to your primitive mind," the fat man retorted, "You, who come
from so far away could never comprehend the meaning of the Bomb."
   "I think I comprehend enough!" Boxey said, "I comprehend that it was
a mistake for me to come here and think that you could help me and my
people!  Instead, you just sit down here and worship an instrument of
destruction while your brothers on the surface are subjected to slavery
and torture by the siminoids."
   "We have kept ourselves noble and pure these last two thousand
years, free from the contamination of both ape and sub-human," Mendez
said, "It has been the destiny of each Mendez to maintain that purity,
just as it is for I, Mendez XXVI."
   "Tend to your own affairs then, Your Highness," Boxey injected as
much sarcasm as he possibly could, "I'm leaving this madhouse right
now."
   As soon as he turned around and moved two steps, he suddenly felt
the overwhelming surge of pain fill his entire body again.  The
searing, fire pounding inside his brain and his internal organs.  The
unbearable screech filling his ears.
   "You can not be permitted to leave," Mendez said softly, "For you
would surely bring others of your tribe upon us.  And then, inevitably
the knowledge of our society would reach the apes, who would make war
upon us.  Only so long as we are safely hidden, do we insure our
survival.  We only summoned you here to see if you knew what the apes
know about us, and if they plan to seek us out.  Clearly, you are not
of help to us in that regard."
   Boxey rolled about the floor in agony, wondering when it was going
to stop.  He knew that if he could get hold of his laser pistol and
fire it at them, he'd have a chance.  But the pain was too intense
inside his head and body to make him reach for it.
   "Remove his weapon," Mendez commanded, "It should become most useful
for our Teachers."
   The dark-skinned man and the fat man both descended the steps and
came over to Boxey's writhing form where they promptly removed both his
laser and his survival pack.
   "Take him away," the ruler added, "Perhaps he desires conversation
of a different sort."
   The two men grabbed hold of Boxey and dragged him out of the room. 
Down the corridor of busts featuring Mendez and all of his
predecessors.  Through another door leading to yet another immaculately
clean, white corridor.  Around them, several other robed humans were
gathered in conversation, occasionally stopping to take note of the
strangely dressed human who continued to gasp in pain as the
dark-skinned man and fat man dragged him along.
   Finally, they reached a door lined by thick metal bars.  The fat man
pressed a button and it slid open.
   Boxey felt himself shoved violently into the room and as he
collapsed to the floor felt the torturous pain inside him cease.  He
let out a series of gasps to catch his breath as he heard the door slam
shut.
   "Great," he muttered as he got to his feet, feeling a sense of anger
burning up inside him, "Isn't this fracking great!"
   "They're not very hospitable, are they?"
   Boxey wheeled around and saw a ruggedly handsome man sitting against
the far wall.  He was dressed in the loincloth of a primitive human,
but unlike the ones on the surface, was completely clean-shaven.  And
if he was a primitive, he was the first one Boxey had ever seen who
showed signs of intelligence.
   "Who are you?" Boxey frowned.
   The man sighed, "Someone who's been living a horrible nightmare for
the last six months and wishes he could wake up and find out that none
of it ever happened."
   He got to his feet and came up to Boxey with his hand outstretched.
   "We might as well get to know each other," he said pleasantly, "My
name is Taylor."

                    Chapter Eight

   "Okay," Athena said as she finished loading the surplus ammunition
into the landram, "That's all of the firepower we have, and for the
three of us that should be enough."
   "Unless there are just as many of these apes, or siminoids as you
call them, based here in the desert," Rollins said.
   "Not likely," the black-haired major shook her head, "Our scan
readings show no mass concentrations of lifeforms out here.  If Taylor
and Boxey are alive, they probably don't have any company."
   "If there are any more of those monsters, I'm ready to atomize
them," Ares said as he cocked his pistol and loaded it into his
holster.
   Athena took note of the bitterness in the security guard's voice and
then gave him a cold authoritative look.
   "You listen good, Lieutenant," she said, equally cold, "I know
you're upset about Bernabe and want all the revenge you can get.  But
if you're not going to give me a guarantee that you plan to follow my
orders and do exactly as I say, then I'll just strap your astrum into
the shuttle and you can go back to the Galactica with the others.  Is
that understood?"
   Ares didn't bat an eye, "Understood."
   "Good," she kept a trace of suspicion in her face before she moved
back to the shuttle where Cassiopeia, Starbuck and Hera were waiting,
along with Brent.
   "We'll keep our auto beacon active, so that when you return you'll
be able to lock on to us," Athena said, "Hopefully we'll have located
both Taylor and Boxey by then."
   "Athena," Cassiopeia said, "Do you really think it's a good idea for
you to stay?  Apollo has to--"
   "You can tell Apollo everything."
   "Well if Cassie can, then maybe I should--" Starbuck, who'd changed
into a fresh uniform, stepped forward.
   "No," Athena interrupted, "I'm expendable as far as a briefing goes. 
You and Hera aren't.  If Apollo's going to make the right decision as
far as what we do with this planet, he has to get the information
straight from the both of you," she then turned to Brent, "Major Brent,
thank you for volunteering to go back.  We need all the information we
can get from an Earth native."
   "I'm glad to help," Brent said, "Good luck with the search Major."
   "We're going to need it, aren't we?" Rollins smirked at his fellow
astronaut as he prepared to step inside the landram.  Before he
entered, his eyes locked onto Brent's and a silent communication passed
between them.  A faint nod of the head indicated Brent's
acknowledgment.
   The three Galacticans and the one 20th Century man then watched as
the landram started up and rolled off into the deeper regions of the
so-called "Forbidden Zone."  They kept their eyes on the shuttle until
it turned a corner around a mountain pass and disappeared from view. 
Each of them hoping and praying that their friends would succeed.  For
the Galacticans, it was the hope that Boxey would be found and that
he'd provide more hopeful news about what else there was on Earth.  For
Brent, it was the hope that Rollins would get his confirmation one way
or the other about Taylor's fate.  And with it, the critical
information on what had happened to the Earth that had sent the planet
into the depths of annihilation.
   Once they had that information, then there remained more hopeful
possibilities for them to put into effect.
   Hera finally broke the silence, "Let's go home now."
    

   Throughout the Galactica's bridge, there was an air of subdued quiet
as all of the personnel on duty continued going about their daily
assignments.  For most of them, it was the only safety valve they had
to mask the sense of letdown and disappointment they'd all been feeling
for more than a day now.
   At his console on the lower level, Major Omega continued to monitor
the main scanners and transmission channels as he'd done every day for
more than twenty-five yahrens.  Throughout his long yahrens of service
aboard the Galactica, he'd come to be regarded as a pillar of stability
who'd seen so many friends and fellow warriors come and go, some by
transfer and promotion, and many more by death.  But through it all,
Omega continued to endure.  It had long ago reached a point where many
younger warriors found it totally unlikely to envision a time in their
lives when the middle-aged Gemonese wouldn't be there at his familiar
station any longer.
   I'm a blasted slave to my job and this console, he thought with sad
resignation for perhaps the millionth time in his life. When I die,
they'll probably send my computer chip banks into space along with my
ashes.
   He stopped briefly and chuckled ironically when he remembered that
had been something Rigel had told him many yahrens ago when it became
painfully clear that their relationship wasn't meant to move ahead from
good friends and occasional lovers into the realm of total commitment.
   Damn it all Rigel, he thought.  I wish you hadn't been so right.
   Finally, his thoughts and regrets about his life and career came to
an end, when he saw some activity on his scanner for the first time all
day.
   "Colonel!" he called to the executive officer, who was stationed on
the upper level.  Sheba wasted no time descending the steps and coming
over to him.  
   "Anything new?" she asked.
   "I've got Alpha Shuttle on our scanner now, clear of Earth orbit,"
the veteran bridge officer said.  "She should be in safe communications
range in three centons."
   Sheba let out a sigh of partial relief, "Well at least we know
something's happened and we can finally move things forward a bit."
   She went over to the next station and picked up the telecom that
connected her to the Commander's office.
   "Apollo," she said, "The shuttle's returning.  You'd better get up
here."
   "On my way," her husband said quickly.


   Aboard the returning shuttle, the same subdued attitude that filled
the Galactica's bridge had also settled in among the four returning
people.
   "One more centon and we can contact the Galactica," Hera sighed as
she held the controls, "Cassiopeia, do me a favor and do all the
talking.  I'm not in the mood to explain things to the Commander just
yet."
   The Chief Medical Officer nodded, knowing how difficult it would be
to explain to both her parents that Boxey was still missing.  She knew
how close both Boxey and Hera were, and how it was probably taking all
of her energy just to keep a professional facade for now.
   "Do you really think for a micron that they're going to find
wherever this Taylor person is?" Starbuck asked as he stretched herself
in the spare uniform he'd changed into, feeling grateful that he was
finally properly dressed again. "That whole desert region is so vast,
it'd be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
   Brent glanced at the grizzled warrior with amusement, "Is that a
familiar metaphor in your culture?"
   "Yes," Starbuck shifted his weight in his chair, "I think it's an
Aquarian saying.  That's one of the planets we used to inhabit."
   "Then our two societies are more related to each other than we might
have initially thought," Brent said, "Some things from this planet
Kobol remain with us even after we forgot all about where we came
from."
   Cassiopeia got up from her chair and went over to her ex-husband,
who was still flexing the shoulder that had been shot twice the
previous day.
   "Did a siminoid really remove two numo slugs from you?" she asked as
she settled next to him.
   "Yep," he said, "Those beasts are ugly and evil, but they appear to
be efficient at least."
   "Starbuck," she tried to sound patient, "Are you absolutely sure
there's no point trying to reason with them?"
   "I'm sure," his voice was flat and full of finality, "Tomorrow we go
back in and level that godforsaken city with a dozen vipers and then we
can get on with rebuilding Earth."
   "If Apollo agrees," she cautioned.
   He looked at her in disbelief, "Why wouldn't he?  Cass, those are
siminoids.  The original Nightmare Machines come to life in a more
hideous form."
   "But Starbuck, didn't you say that those two scientists you spoke to
were not quite as--"
   "Just a couple of goons who aren't in any position to do anything,"
Starbuck interrupted, "As far as I'm concerned, keeping humans in cages
instead of shooting them hardly makes someone better."
   There was more hostility in Starbuck's voice than she could ever
recall in all the yahrens she'd known him.  Enough to make Cassiopeia
wonder if her ex-husband was pushing things much further than the facts
justified.
   And if that were the case, could he end up giving Apollo some bad
advice?
   "Cassiopeia," Hera motioned, "I think it's time you contact the
Galactica."
   She nodded and went back to the cockpit area.  As soon as she'd
settled next to Hera, she picked up her headset and activated the
communications switch, putting them on the secure frequency.
   "Galactica Core Command, this is Recon Shuttle One.  Request
immediate landing clearance in Beta landing bay."
   "Affirmative Recon shuttle," Apollo's voice filled the interior,
"Can I speak to Major Athena?"   
   "Major Athena has remained on the planet to continue the search,
Commander," Cassiopeia kept her tone neutral, "Captain Starbuck and
Ensign Hera are both alive and with us."
   "And Boxey?" the urgency became evident in the commander's voice.
   "Lieutenant Boxey is presumed alive but still unaccounted for," she
said with all the reassurance she could summon, "Major Athena thought
it wise to continue the search while we returned to provide full
information on what we already know."  
   There was a brief pause on the other end and inside, Cassiopeia
wondered how Apollo and Sheba were reacting to that information.  She
decided to press on and not wait for their next question.
   "We had one casualty," the Chief Medical Officer went on, "Sergeant
Bernabe was killed as the result of hostile alien fire."
   "Alien fire?" Apollo asked with abrupt bewilderment, "You mean
there's a hostile alien force down there?"
   "Affirmative," Cassiopeia sighed, not knowing how else she could
describe the spectacle of talking, intelligent siminoids, "We have one
of the crew from the Earth spacecraft with us.  His commander has
stayed on the surface with Major Athena and Lieutenant Ares to continue
the search for Boxey."
   "As soon as you've landed and gone through decontamination, I want
all of you to report to my quarters for a thorough briefing with myself
and Colonel Sheba," Apollo's voice went up to a tone of command level
firmness, but behind it, Cassiopeia could sense the hint of frustration
and anger that no one else might have been able to detect.
   "Understood," Cassiopeia said, "Recon Shuttle One out."
   Hera looked over at her and said with relief, "Thanks."
   "Anytime," she got up and went back to Starbuck, so she could
inspect the dressing that had been done on Starbuck's wounds, checking
for any signs of infection.
   "No problems as far as I can tell," she said, "I'd suggest coming
down to the Life Center for a full examination once we're done with
debriefing."
   "And I'll bet you're going to give me an earful about how this
proves that I'm too old to keep doing these kinds of missions?" he
half-smiled at her.
   The jocular edge of his remark was totally lost on her, as she gave
him a less than pleasant glare.
   "Starbuck," she tried to remain patient, "Did I say one word?"
   "No," he conceded, "But I know that look in your eye, Cass.  I saw
it enough times over the last eight yahrens of our marriage."
   "What does it matter what I think, Starbuck?" Cassiopeia retorted
gently, "We're not married anymore so why should you care what I think
about your fitness for front-line duty?"
   Starbuck felt slightly hurt by the harshness of her remarks.
   "I kind of thought you still cared, deep down," he said.
   "I do care," the Chief Medical Officer's voice softened, "Every day
of my life, I care about you and what happens to you.  I just don't see
what the point is in my telling you about it any longer.  You're a man
who's permanently set in his ways, Starbuck.  We both had to learn the
hard way that nothing I say can change you, and nothing that you ever
promise will change your basic nature.  So let's just both agree to be
friends and stay true to our own paths." 
   Starbuck felt a trace of exasperation escaping from him, "Cass, I
was just trying to make small talk."
   "Don't make small talk out of a subject like that, Starbuck," she
admonished, "If you want to make small talk with me, then do it about
triad matches or IFB programming.  But not about us." she paused and
then softened her tone a bit, "Not yet at least."
   Her ex-husband held up both his palms to indicate acquiescence as
she resumed her examination of him.
   On the other side of the shuttle, Brent had found himself growing
increasingly restless as the journey progressed.  The sooner he was
introduced to the full extent of Colonial technology, the sooner he'd
be able to develop the plan that he knew he and Rollins had to put into
effect.  And then, he'd feel much more at ease.
   For now, he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to show signs of
impatience or anything that could be interpreted by the Colonials as
hostile.  The best thing to do, was to be as congenial as he possibly
could.   
   "Hello Ensign," he said pleasantly as he settled next to Hera.
   The blonde warrior didn't respond at first.  Her hands held the
controls tightly and her expression remained focused on the vast
expanse of space that lay in front of them.
   "Ensign Hera?" he gently prodded.
   Hera jerked her head toward him and blushed slightly in
embarrassment, "Oh, I'm sorry, Major.  I didn't mean to be rude.  I was
just.....thinking."
   "About your brother?"
   "Yes," she nodded.  Boxey might not have been her flesh-and-blood
brother, but that had never mattered to Hera.  In the early days of her
childhood, Boxey had been a protector to her in every sense, giving her
a sense of confidence that she'd always felt was responsible for why
she'd been able to successfully tap into her own genetic instincts and
become a good warrior.
   "I know how you feel," Brent said with empathy, "I've been doing a
lot of that kind of thinking myself today."
   She returned her gaze to the starry expanse, "Your friend who was
killed in the crash?"
   "Yeah," he admitted, although that hadn't been the sole object of
his thoughts, "Captain Fowler was.....well you see, he was married and
had a child."
   "My condolences," she then chose her next words carefully, "Do you
have any children?"
   "One daughter.  She's fifteen." he then idly looked Hera over, "Only
a few years younger than you, I imagine."  Abruptly, he changed the
subject, "Are most of your people warriors?"
   Hera noticed right away how the subject of his daughter had to be
causing him considerable inner pain for him to change the subject so
quickly.
   "No, most of us aren't," she answered his question, "We've been
trying to maintain some semblance of a normal civilization while we've
been traveling through space."
   "I'm sure it hasn't been easy doing that," he said, "How determined
are these enemies of yours?"
   "The Cylons?" she let out a faint smirk, "Well, they've spent more
than a thousand of what you call years, trying to exterminate the
entire human race.  And even now, more than 50,000 light years and on
the other side of the galaxy from their home planet, they still have a
taskforce of warships nipping at our heels.  I'd say that makes them
very determined."
   Brent shook his head in disbelief, "It all seems so unjust.  Twelve
branches of humanity lose their civilization because of an outside
aggressor, and the one branch left on Earth finds a way to destroy
itself by killing each other."
   "Yes," Hera admitted, "My father's a very religious person though. 
Somehow, no matter how bad the universe seems, he always manages to
keep a secure faith that there's ultimately a reason for anything."
   "I may want to have a talk with him sometime about that," the
astronaut sighed and then leaned forward in his chair as he saw the
unmistakable sight of a ship coming into view.  As the massive contours
of the Galactica became more distinct, his jaw fell open in amazement.
   "Impressive sight, isn't it?" Hera said.
   "Yeah," Brent nodded, feeling a distinct sense of awe, "Very."
   Hera lined the shuttle up for the final approach and moments later
had guided it smoothly into the landing bay.

   Apollo sat alone in his office waiting for Sheba to arrive with the
four people who had returned from Earth, and to hear the full details
of what they had to say.  He knew that when that debriefing was over,
he would be making the most critical command decisions of his life.
   And already, he knew that he would have to make them with the burden
of not knowing whether his son was still alive or not.  As relieved as
he was to know that his daughter and his best friend were safe for now,
he still couldn't shake the uneasiness that Boxey's disappearance was
producing inside him.
   If it was true that Boxey was already dead, then he wished he could
have at least had confirmation of that.  Then, he wouldn't have the
gnawing uncertainty cutting into his ability to make critical
decisions.  But if he didn't know the outcome, and could cling to a
hope that his son was all right, then would it cause him to make an
unwise decision with regard to the rest of the people in the Fleet that
he was responsible for?
   For many yahrens, he had always marveled at how his father, within
mere centars of losing first his youngest son and then his wife, had
been able to make the most important decision any human had made in the
last seven millennia by gathering the survivors of the Holocaust
together to begin the long, treacherous journey that had taken them all
the way across the full width of the galaxy.  What made Adama such a
great man was the fact that he had not given in to his grief as a
lesser man might have on that occasion.
   As Apollo continued to ponder the uncertainty of Boxey's fate, he
now realized for the first time why his father had been so final when
he had offered the suggestion that maybe his mother Ila had not been at
home when the Cylon attack took place.  If Adama was to have the
strength and confidence needed to initiate a task as large as gathering
the survivors for a journey to Earth, he could not think for one moment
that there was any possibility of Ila being alive somewhere else
amongst the burning ruins of Caprica.  Because if he had allowed his
mind to believe in that faint possibility then he might have made a
rash decision that would have prevented the survivors from getting away
safely.
   This time though, there was no certainty for Apollo to confront and
then move on with a clear conscience.  And he was certainly not at a
stage where he could treat his son as dead and just move on.
   Damn, he thought as he held up a holopicture of himself, Boxey and
Serina from that long-ago day when they had been sealed in the
battlestar's Main Hall.  Why did I have to be given this kind of
dilemma?
   The chime from outside his office sounded, indicating that they had
arrived.  "Enter," he said firmly as he put the holopicture back in the
drawer of his desk.
   The door slid open and Sheba entered first, followed by  Cassiopeia,
Starbuck, Hera and a still-awed Brent, who hadn't been able to take his
eyes off most of the technical aspects of the giant battlestar since
they'd landed.
   "We're here to give you a full report, Commander," Cassiopeia took
her place in front of the desk while the rest of the warriors sat down
in the chairs that were spread out in the room.  "But first, may I
introduce Major Brent, second-in-command of the Earth spacecraft."
   Apollo extended his hand, "Major Brent, on behalf of the Council of
Twelve, I bid you welcome."
   "My pleasure, Commander," Brent took it, "I know there's a lot you'd
like to hear from me as an Earth native, but I think for now I should
defer to Dr. Cassiopeia and let her begin."
   "Not yet," Apollo said as he resumed his seat, "I've been told that
you come from Earth's distant past."
   "That's correct," Brent admitted.
   The commander then pressed several button on his desk console,
activating the wall monitor.  In an instant, the fuzzy images of the
gamma recordings filled the screen.
   "Is this spacecraft familiar to you?" Apollo asked.
   Brent stepped forward and squinted at the monitor.  "It sure is. 
That's the Magellan.  The spacecraft my friends and I were looking
for."
   Apollo then pressed another switch, and the face of the man making
the garbled journal entry replaced the spacecraft on the monitor.
   "You know this man?"
   The astronaut smiled thinly, "That's Colonel George Taylor,
commander of the expedition, and from what I've been told by your
friends is the only possible survivor left on Earth."
   Apollo switched off the console and resumed his seat, "Very well
Major, you've now confirmed that there's no possible reason for me to
doubt your story that you come from Earth's distant past.  Before we go
any further, please enlighten me as to what this expedition was all
about and how it is you came to be here in this time."   
   For the third time that day, Brent found himself explaining how four
of his fellow astronauts had left on a deep space expedition 2000 years
ago, and how he, Rollins and Fowler had left Earth two years later on a
rescue mission to bring them back to the 20th century.
   "This was your planet's first deep space expedition?" Apollo
interrupted at one point.
   "Yes," Brent said, "Prior to Colonel Taylor's flight, we'd only gone
no further than our moon.  The ability to travel at light speed to
another star system was....quite a sudden and revolutionary
breakthrough."
   "That explains why it would take you so much time to travel," Apollo
said as his mind fitted more of the pieces together.  "The most
primitive form of interstellar travel guaranteed that if you ever tried
to return home, you'd be thousands of yahrens older than you were when
you first left."
   "Which I assume, is not a problem in your society," Brent smiled
thinly.
   "It isn't," Apollo admitted, "But how exactly did you plan to return
to your own time, once you found your missing friends?"
   Brent felt his heart skip a beat.  The possibility that an advanced
civilization as this one had to be, wouldn't understand how to perform
the time travel method hadn't occurred to him.  And if they lacked the
means for it to be carried out....
   Stay calm, he thought.  Stay calm.  One way or the other, you are
going home.
   "Well Commander," Brent kept his voice level, "It really involved
performing the reverse of how we got here.  The chief scientist who
planned our expedition, Dr. Otto Hasslein, could probably explain it a
lot better than I could."
   "But I clearly won't have the luxury of talking to him, will I?"
Apollo matched Brent's thin smile.  "If it's hard to explain, maybe you
could sketch it out a little.  I think our scientists would find it
most illuminating." he motioned to a pencil and paper on the side of
his desk that he kept for idle doodling and sketching whenever he felt
bored.
   "This will probably take me a few minutes," Brent said
apologetically as he picked up the writing implements.
   "Go right ahead," Apollo said, "In the meantime, I think I should
let my own people update me on other matters of what you saw on Earth."
   Brent went over to the chair and table beneath the porthole and
threw Cassiopeia a silent communication that the Chief Medical Officer
instantly recognized as I can't wait to hear you tell him about the
apes.
   "Okay Starbuck," Apollo said, "Now that we've cleared up matters
regarding the Earth spacecraft, start from the beginning on what you
and the patrol saw."
   There was a tight-lipped expression on the grizzled warrior's face
as he rose and stepped in front of the desk.
   "Commander," he began in a low, solemn tone, "We are facing a
reclamation project of proportions far greater than any of us could
have envisioned.  In the two thousand yahrens since Major Brent and his
friends left the Earth, the Thirteenth Tribe of humanity has gone from
a fifth millennia civilization to one of total desolation."
   "I'd pretty much gathered that by now," Apollo said.
   "Yeah, well what you probably didn't gather is that all the humans
left on Earth are animals kept in cages by a race of intelligent
siminoids."
   Apollo and Sheba both froze as soon as the words came out of
Starbuck's mouth.  Brent glanced up from his sketching and found
himself resisting the urge to chuckle.  By this point, the whole
situation was beginning to strike the American astronaut as almost
comical in a perverse way.
   "It's true Father," Hera broke the stunned silence that had taken
over both her parents, "We saw it all."
   The two warriors recounted their experiences after they'd landed the
previous day.  Starbuck's captivity and interrogation by the apes. 
Hera's flight into the jungle and encounters with the primitive humans
(omitting any reference to her sexual experience with the blue-eyed
one).  Her rescue of Starbuck.  The landram's battle with the gorilla
army and the death of Bernabe.  The decision to search for Taylor and
Boxey in the so-called "Forbidden Zone," where according to the apes,
they suspected an intelligent race of humans still existed.
   "Incredible," Sheba said when they'd finished, "That's just so hard
to believe that...."
   For the first time, Apollo almost seemed shattered into
helplessness.  He still said nothing as he rose from his chair and
stared at the stars shining through the porthole.  As if he were
contemplating all the places in the galaxy they had passed along the
way for the last twenty-five yahrens.
   "The only good news I can report is that the siminoid society won't
be too difficult to dispose of," Starbuck went on, his face still
flashing signs of anger and desire for revenge. "They could cause
problems for a single warrior or a single landram, but a concentrated
strike would finish them in half-a-micron.  Their technology is very
primitive.  No weapons stronger than a numo.  No transportation beyond
an equine and wagon.  No automation whatsoever."
   Apollo turned away from the porthole and stared incredulously at
Starbuck.
   "Let me get this straight," the commander said, "Are you saying we
should attack them and wipe them out?"
   "That's exactly what I'm saying," Starbuck nodded vigorously,
"They're every child's nightmare come to life and worse.  My God
Apollo, the things they do to humans borders on the barbaric!  Compared
to them, the Cylons are charity workers by comparison."
   Apollo kept staring intently at Starbuck.  As another uneasy silence
came over the room, Brent awkwardly rose from his seat and placed his
notations and sketches down on Apollo's desk.
   "Thank you Major," Apollo acknowledged, "I think maybe for now,
you'd like to relax after your ordeal."
   "Thank you Commander, I could probably use a little rest." Brent
said gratefully.
   "Dr. Cassiopeia, please escort the Major to our VIP quarters as soon
as you get through with your medical debriefing.  Colonel Sheba, please
wait here for now."
   "Yes sir," Sheba nodded, masking all of the concerns raging inside
her.
   "You're all dismissed," Apollo said to the rest of the group.
   "Apollo, aren't you going to--", Starbuck protested.
   "This is hardly the time for me to make a snap judgment about
anything, Starbuck," the commander's tone was cold, "Not after what
you've told me.  This requires a great deal of careful thought. 
Nothing more."
   Starbuck seemed ready to continue his protests, even though he'd
known Apollo long enough to realize when the Commander's words were
final.  Only when he felt his ex-wife's grasp on his arm did he realize
that silence would probably be a better course of action.
   For now at least.
   As soon as the rest of them had departed, there was an uneasy
silence between the commander and the executive officer as though
neither of them had any idea of where to begin.
   "God, what a fracking mess," Sheba broke it.
   "Yes," her husband nodded, "The Contingency plan deals with a
primitive desolate Earth.  It doesn't however deal with how to handle a
hostile non-human population."
   "That's the price we pay for thinking of the universe in bipolar
terms of human and Cylon, like we've been doing all these yahrens,"
Sheba sat down.
   "I know," Apollo rubbed his forehead, "And with the singular
exception of the run-in with the Ovions at Carillon, we've completely
forgotten what it means to be up against a hostile race that's
intelligent and living.  Not some group of soulless machines like the
Cylons are."
   Right away, Sheba could sense an air of unease and discomfort in her
husband's voice.
   "Apollo," she said, "Is that why you were so quick to shoot
Starbuck's idea down about a military strike against this siminoid
colony?"
   "Yes," he didn't look up at her, "Behind all that venomous rhetoric,
Starbuck still described a viable thriving culture of living beings. 
And if my guess is right, these intelligent siminoids have probably
been controlling the Earth for.....God knows how many hundreds of
yahrens."
   Another silence filled the room.
   "We seem to have an awkward dilemma then," Sheba finally said, "On
the one hand, there's the desire to reclaim the Thirteenth Colony in
the name of humanity, and yet on the other hand it would mean we'd have
to do something that wouldn't be particularly noble."
   "It's a dilemma all right," Apollo sighed and leaned forward, "And
one that I am going to have to put before the Council as well.  Notify
the members to gather in the Chamber in one centar."
   His wife nodded and prepared to leave the room.  When she reached
the door, she stopped and looked back at Apollo who was still staring
down at his desk.
   "You'll probably hear a wide variety of opinions and perspectives
with no firm majority for any particular plan of action," Sheba said
pointedly, "And ultimately, they are going to defer to your judgment
and your judgment only, Apollo.  Don't come off as anything less than
the strong personality they've always admired."
   He looked up and half-smiled at her.
   "That's another reason why I love you," he sighed, "Your
never-ending ability to put me in my place."
   She returned it and then left the room, leaving Apollo alone to
dwell on a problem that even he could admit was far greater than the
matter of his missing son.

                    Chapter Nine

   Taylor wondered how many nights he'd spent in his cell dreaming the
same dream over and over again.  A dream about the 20th Century Earth
he had been so contemptuous of and so anxious to escape.  Dreaming of
things he'd always dismissed as idle trivialities that he could easily
jettison and never miss.  The comfort of his own bed in his Houston
apartment.  A lavish steak dinner at the most expensive restaurant in
town.  A night at the theater or symphony.  A ball game at the
Astrodome.  Images from a time and place he had expected to recede into
forgotten memories once he'd left on the Project Magellan expedition.
   And then, he'd wake up and find himself back in the cold reality of
his living nightmare.  For the last six months, ever since the Magellan
had crashed in the inland sea of what he now realized had been Long
Island Sound, he'd gone from one endless hell to another.  The brief
period of hope he'd experienced after leaving the Statue of Liberty
behind him and resuming his journey up the coastline with Nova was long
gone.  As distant a memory as the 20th Century was now.
   It had been so different those first three nights.  The time alone
with Nova had gradually restored his sanity and purged his bitterness
over the realization that all his fears about mankind had been borne
out.  For the first time, he had become aware of how much he really
loved the primitive female that Zira had provided him with in
captivity.  And even though he still hadn't succeeded in getting Nova
to try and articulate speech, he could begin to sense some kind of
reciprocal feeling inside Nova.  That she regarded him as more than
just a protector she could feel safe with.  That she loved him in
return.
   The second night, as they lay next to each other beneath a star-lit
sky along the coast, he'd finally noticed it.  For almost a week, even
before his escape from the apes' captivity, he'd noticed how Nova
periodically seemed to go into involuntary jerking motions.  On this
night, it happened again with even more frequency.  Playing a hunch,
he'd placed his hand on her stomach and waited.  And then, he finally
felt it.  A firm kick from inside.
   The realization that Nova was pregnant had produced a sense of near
euphoria inside Taylor.  A feeling of hope that his presence in the
future was no accident and that he'd be able to bring the human race
back a state of intelligence by siring a new race of intelligent humans
and teaching them the means to climb back from the jungle to
civilization.
   The next morning, their journey in search of a place to settle had
resumed.  Taylor had finally decided it was time to see what lay away
from the coastline and had begun investigating further inland.  And
then, the beckoning mouth of a cave, filled with a haunting glow of red
light and a blast of cold air had caused him to take a fateful step
back into the realm of shattered dreams and despairs.  A step he wished
with all his heart and soul that he could have retraced in an instant.
   Discovering the buried ruins of New York City had initially
fascinated him.  Walking past the ruins of the Empire State Building
and seeing it's upper floors barely breaking the surface above as
though it were a dying beast pathetically trying to climb it's way out
of the grave.  Stopping for an hour in the remains of the New York
Public Library on 42nd Street and seeing if there were any hints as to
how the catastrophe that had destroyed mankind had all begun.  He'd
found very little though.  Only the last editions of the New York
Times, the Daily News and the Post betrayed the date that it had
happened.  January 1998. Twenty-six years after he and the Magellan
crew had begun their journey into the distant future.
   Finally, he and Nova resumed their journey and came to the remains
of St. Patrick's Cathedral where the glow emanated from.  Initially,
Taylor had wondered if he was about to receive some kind of Divine
Revelation from the Almighty Himself.  Only to soon realize that he
might as well have come face-to-face with the Devil instead.
   And now....what was it, four months, five months later?  He was
still locked inside a lonely cell just as the Apes had done to him for
two months before.  Receiving only a periodic visit from his captors to
see if he'd changed his mind and decided to cooperate with them.  And
when he'd refused them yet again, they'd inflict another barrage of
their hypnotic powers on him, sending him into unbearable sessions of
agonizing pain.  All the while knowing that they wouldn't kill him,
because they knew how valuable he'd be if he only cooperated.
   And Nova.....what had happened to her after all this time?  He knew
his captors weren't stupid enough to have her killed, especially if
they held out hope that he'd cooperate some day.  Had she given birth
to their unborn child by this point?  And if so, what plans did his
captors have for his offspring, whom Taylor had hoped to be the first
of a new generation of intelligent humans?
   Every day, his mind pondered those questions.  And then, every night
he'd be haunted by dreams and visions of a forgotten life that he now
wished he could have back again.
   Today though, something new had intruded on his lonely days of
solitary suffering.  The arrival of a visitor that his captors had
shoved into his cell.  To his amazement, another intelligent human.
   He'd been so stunned and amazed that the 20th Century American
astronaut almost felt as if he were in a surreal dream when he found
himself smiling and extending his hand in friendship to the stranger.
   "We might as well get to know each other," he said, "My name is
Taylor."
   For a long moment, Boxey eyed him with suspicion.  The Galactica
warrior had been through so many emotional lows over the past day that
he wondered if it was possible for him to trust anyone on this planet
as a friend.  But then he realized that whoever this man was, he
clearly was not viewed favorably by Mendez and his cohorts so that had
to count for something.
   "Boxey," he finally took Taylor's hand and reciprocated the
handshake, "Lieutenant Boxey."
   Taylor's eyebrow went up, "You're a soldier?"
   "You could say that."
   "That makes two of us then," he chuckled mirthlessly, "A long time
ago, I used to be Colonel Taylor."
   "How long ago was that?"
   "You'd never believe me."
   "After what I've been through the past day, I'm prepared to believe
anything, Colonel," Boxey said, feeling a slight sense of relief come
over him.  This Taylor was the first normal person he'd encountered and
that offered the first tiny glimmer of hope that he'd been searching
for ever since he'd been parted from Starbuck and Hera.
   Taylor took a breath, "Would you believe me if I said it was two
thousand years?"
   The Galactica warrior's eyes bulged slightly for an instant. He then
quickly recovered himself and said, "I think I would, Colonel.  If that
is, you'd believe me if I said I came from another planet at the other
end of the galaxy?"
   The astronaut's jaw fell open in disbelief.
   "I'm not joking," Boxey said, "What's say we trade stories on how we
both got here?"


   Ever since they had watched the gorilla army depart on its crusade
to the Forbidden Zone, Cornelius and Zira had retreated to the
University Library on the other side of Ape City.  Burying themselves
in scholarly texts seemed like the only entertaining diversion they
could find.
   "Humph," Zira snorted as she held up a medical text on humans with
disdain, "'Studies of the human animal reveal no capacity for rational
thought or intelligence.  The idea that the human animal could ever
articulate or be trained to articulate in any meaningful way must be
regarded as a scientific absurdity.'"
   "They might as well move that text to the fiction section,"
Cornelius said dryly.  He was deeply immersed in a textbook study of
birds and how they flew.  Wondering if it were true that the humans
like Taylor and Starbuck really had unlocked a secret missed by ape
science that had given them the capacity to fly through the sky and
space.
   At that moment, Professor Sylvan of the University came over to the
table they were sitting at.
   "Your appeals for compassion did little good this morning, did they
not?"
   Cornelius looked up at the teacher with a neutral expression. 
"Perhaps not, Professor Sylvan.  But at the very least, we managed to
insure that the majority of chimpanzees will not have their hands
stained by the folly of what is about to occur." 
   "What if it doesn't turn out to be a folly for them?" the professor
asked gravely, "Barbaric as their goals are, it could still turn into a
success for them."
   Cornelius looked back at the textbook on the bird and slowly shook
his head, "They won't succeed."
   A wry half-smile came over Sylvan's face.
   "You put all of us in the awkward position of hoping for disaster,"
he said, "Chimpanzees will suffer tremendously if the gorillas can
claim a successful military triumph.  We might see ourselves displaced
as the middle class of ape society."
   "Better to be displaced while maintaining our principles," Zira said
haughtily without looking up at him.
   From outside the window that overlooked the main avenue of Ape City,
they could hear the faint sound of a military battle horn.
   "They've returned already?" Sylvan's brow furrowed in amazement.
   The three chimpanzees went over to the window and looked down into
the main town square where the gorilla army was approaching.  To their
amazement, the orderly procession that had left on horseback mere hours
ago now appeared ragged, disheveled and with many soldiers now on foot
instead of horseback.  There was very little semblance of the orderly
columns that had marched out of Ape City.
   "Perhaps our optimism for pessimism has been vindicated," Zira
noted, "We'd best investigate."


   Ten minutes later, an angry General Ursus was standing in the formal
office of President Claudius, with Dr. Zaius standing off to one side.
   "If I understand your report correctly, General," Claudius said
dubiously, "Your entire force was unable to handle one moving vehicle
comprised of no more than a handful of humans."
   "Unfortunately, yes," the gorilla general nodded, "But now that we
have some inkling of their weaponry then the obvious solution is to
regroup and attack with larger numbers.  Had it not been for the sudden
appearance of the two humans from the jungle who mounted the transport
and opened fire at us, we would have been on the verge of overwhelming
them."
   "You act as though this transport vehicle with the fire guns is the
only thing the humans have," there was a heavy edge of skepticism in
the Assembly President's voice, "If there's one of them, how could we
discount the possibility of more of them?"
   "This vehicle was poised to attack!" Ursus thundered, "Why send out
only one vehicle with such weaponry if there are more?  No, my dear Mr.
President, this was the limit of what they have and even with our own
losses we stopped their advance!  With additional forces, we can surely
get past them altogether!"
   "And where do the additional forces come from, General?" the
President acidly retorted.  "Your entire expedition amounted to more
than forty percent of the total male gorilla population.  Now unless
you're suggesting that female gorillas take part in the next campaign,
am I to assume that you want me to start conscripting from the ranks of
orangutans and chimpanzees?"
   "If need be, then yes!" Ursus was defiant.  "The whole of Ape
Civilization may be at risk and it is the patriotic duty of all apes to
take part in defense of our homes if there is no other alternative."
   Claudius stared at him for a long moment and began to drum his
orange colored fingers on the table.
   "Tell me something General," his voice was calmer, "When you
encountered this moving vehicle, did they immediately open fire on
you?"
   The gorilla general seemed caught off guard by the question.
   "Mr. President, I don't see what-----"
   "I thought as much," Claudius interrupted with mild disgust, "In
other words, the instant you saw that it was manned by humans you
opened fire."
   "Of course I did!" Ursus said angrily, "Would you have expected any
less of me after our commitment to war?"
   "Perhaps not," the President conceded, "I find it interesting.
That's all." he then went back to the sheaf of parchments on his desk,
"You're dismissed, General."
   "Mr. President, the order to regroup with a new force must be made
with all due haste!  I----"
   "I said you're dismissed, General!" Claudius angrily got to his
feet, "Obey my order or I'll have you removed from your command!"
   Ursus glared at him with anger and contempt and finally departed
without giving Claudius a customary salute.
   The President settled back in his chair and shook his head, "How
long ago was it that my predecessor, the esteemed Flint, appointed him
head of the Ape Police?" he let out an exasperated grunt, "I think he
shows signs of having been in the job too long."
   "Perhaps," Dr. Zaius spoke for the first time, "Unfortunately, there
are no gorillas different from him."
   "You were very quiet throughout the conversation, Dr. Zaius,"
Claudius looked up at him, "Are you suddenly having second thoughts
about your bellicosity?"
   The Chief Scientist smirked faintly, "Hardly.  Ursus is a fool, but
we still have no choice but to regroup for another attack.  Not with
conscripted apes perhaps, but another show of force would help."
   "Perhaps under more thoughtful leadership?" the President leaned
back, "Yours perhaps?"
   Dr. Zaius didn't skip a bit, "As old as I am, Mr. President, I would
consider it an honor to accompany a second expedition.  Perhaps if I
were to go, it would set an example to all orangutans that they too
should volunteer for service if events come to that."
   "Thereby sparing us the need to resort to an odious tactic like
forced conscription of orangutans and chimpanzees?" Claudius smiled
wryly, "Ingenious.  In an instant, you not only solve a political
problem for me, but also the problem of Ursus and his overly
temperamental leadership of our forces." he paused, "Very well, Dr.
Zaius.  I will put you in strategic command of the operation and allow
Ursus to retain control of tactical matters.  Give our forces a day to
rest and recuperate, and you may set out tomorrow for the Forbidden
Zone."
   "Thank you, sir," Zaius respectfully bowed his head.
   "There is one condition I must attach in granting you this," the
President held up a hand, "And this in fact, is the reason why I think
it's better for you to be there as my representative.  You are not to
fire first on any intelligent humans you encounter.  Wait until they
fire the first shot.  If there is any chance at all, that you can have
a productive discussion with one of their representatives that will
avoid bloodshed and keep them clear of our territories forever, then
that is by far a better outcome for all of us."
   The Chief Scientist frowned, "What brought this on?"
   Claudius brought his hairy fingertips together, "I've been doing a
lot of thinking about what our friends Cornelius and Zira have said
about humans," he said, "And as painful as this is for me to consider,
there is a chance that what they say could turn out to be right.  And
if that is true, then we cannot commit suicide against an enemy we
cannot defeat."
   Zaius stared at him in amazement, "Are you serious?"
   "I'd be a fool not to consider the possibility," the President said,
"And if you can't consider it either, then you're as big a fool as
Ursus is."
   "Mr. President, you know fully well that war is not my first
instinct or desire," the Chief Scientist responded, "Before the rampage
took place, I was fully prepared to do all I could to see to it that no
push for war became necessary."
   "Granted," Claudius conceded, "But even though we have suffered the
indignity of the rampage, I think it best that we keep a tiny ray of
hope open to ourselves that all-out bloodshed can be avoided if it
becomes clear that our best interest is in doing that.  And if you
accompany the expedition as strategic commander, acting in my name,
you'll have a much better chance of discerning that than Ursus or any
of his underlings ever will."
   Dr. Zaius paused to reflect on the President's words and finally
nodded in understanding.
   "If the situation demands tempered reasoning, I will be the first to
overcome my hatred for men and do what is best in the greater interest
of Ape Society," he spoke, "You can expect no less of me, Mr.
President."
   The Assembly President leaned back and smiled, "I hoped as much."


   Several hours had passed since Taylor and Boxey had begun exchanging
stories with each other.  Now, with the both of them finished, the two
humans from different times and places now stared at each other with
equal expressions of fascination and incredulity.
   Taylor finally broke the awed silence that had lingered for several
minutes.
   "Really ironic," he said, "I left Earth to try and find something
better than man, and your people tried to find Earth to find something
better than what man had done to your own society, letting it be
destroyed."
   "And we both ended up here, in this nightmare from Hell," Boxey
sighed, "Brutal siminoids on top, and insane humans underneath.  I
don't know which is worse."
   "Neither do I," Taylor sighed, "Although each day I spend here,
makes me think that these crazed mutants have to be worse than the apes
because they could have kept humanity going after the whole catastrophe
happened, but instead they......" he trailed off and shook his head.
   "Do you know what happened to your civilization that started this
whole process?" Boxey asked, knowing that this would be important
information to give to Apollo.  "Was it some kind of war?  I saw
indications of that in the debris I inspected."
   The American astronaut nodded, "It was war all right.  Don't ask me
how it happened, because all I know from the fragments of old
newspapers I found in the Public Library is the date.  Apparently in
January 1998, nearly two thousand years ago, there was a nuclear war
between the great superpowers that decimated more than half the planet. 
This particular city, New York, miraculously escaped total destruction
because the missiles aimed here missed their targets and landed more
than thirty miles to the east, out in what's now the desert territory I
initially landed in."
   "That explains why that whole area is lifeless then," Boxey noted.
   "Yes.  And, from what I've been able to piece together from what
little information I've gotten from these mutants, the multiple missile
impacts all over the world, in addition to causing high levels of
radiation poisoning, also caused a number of geological and
meteorological catastrophes to take place in the years afterward. 
Tidal waves, earthquakes.  Within five hundred to a thousand years, the
aftershocks triggered by the nuclear war had totally altered the
natural topography of this part of the country.  Creating mountains and
desert out of areas that had once been sea-level flatland.  And
simultaneously, those areas to the west that had not been as affected
transformed over time into jungles and forests."
   "But what caused the siminoids, or apes as you call them, to rise
into an intelligent species?"
   Taylor sighed, "The same thing that caused the topographical changes
over time also altered the genetic structure of numerous species of
animal life.  Some species were wiped out altogether.  But the apes
were different.  They're the one type of animal that most closely
resembles human beings.  They're also the one type of animal that had
been taught to perform and think like human beings in many ways.  Of
all the species that were capable of evolving into something rational,
they were the one."
   "And the war, and all the cataclysms afterward triggered that
evolution?"  Boxey was amazed.
   "Evidently," Taylor said, "I don't know how long it took them, but
within a thousand years, they'd overrun all the remaining human
survivors above, and the humans retreated back into the jungles and
basically became savage mutes."
   "Except for these people."
   The astronaut looked him in the eye, "These aren't people as we know
them, Lieutenant.  Oh sure, they look that way on the outside but that
isn't their normal appearance."
   "What do you mean?" Boxey frowned.
   "I've seen their real faces," Taylor's voice grew slightly ominous,
"The one time I managed to escape from this hellhole for a brief
period, I stumbled in on one of their worship services inside the
Cathedral.  Whenever they gather to worship their god, they 'reveal
their true selves' as they put it."
   "Huh?" the Galactica warrior's befuddlement increased.
   "Those are masks they wear," Taylor said, "A superficial resemblance
of what their ancestors were once like.  Because underneath the masks
is what two thousand years of exposure to radiation and fallout has
done to this colony." 
   There was an edge of underlying terror inside Taylor's voice that
almost made Boxey's skin crawl.  Clearly, whatever the astronaut had
seen had been enough to badly frighten him.
   As if Taylor had read his mind, the astronaut said, "When I saw it,
I was so shocked, that's why they were able to recapture me.  I thought
I was going to lose my mind when I saw what they really look like. 
Although if I really stopped to think for just one minute, I shouldn't
have been surprised."
   "Do me a favor, Colonel," Boxey said gently, "Don't give me a
description.  Not today at least."
   Taylor smiled thinly without mirth, "No point in repulsing you
needlessly, Lieutenant, so I won't tell you....today."
   "Can you explain then how this society developed itself?  And why in
the name of Kobol do they worship a missile?"
   The 20th Century man let out an ironic laugh, "Where I come from,
man believed in God because the Holy Book said the Almighty created him
in His own image.  Well, you can say the same thing of these misguided
wretches.  They worship a nuclear missile because a nuclear missile
made them what they are.  It was only natural for them to make it an
object of veneration once the first generation that had lived before
the Holocaust died off."  
   Boxey nodded his head as he remembered the bizarre words Mendez and
the others had spoken.  "To them, time began with the war and what the
bombings did to the world.  And all that happened afterward."
   "Exactly," Taylor said, "And what makes it even more sick is the
kind of bomb they worship.  Those misguided bastards probably don't
realize the full magnitude of what that bomb could do."
   "Incinerate the entire colony for a ten mile radius at least."
   The astronaut shook his head, "Try the entire world." 
   The Galactica warrior was caught off-guard by the remark. "What?"
   "The entire world," Taylor repeated, "That particular missile is a
special kind.  It's called the Alpha-Omega Bomb."
   Boxey suddenly slapped his hand against his forehead, "Those symbols
on the tail end!  Now I know why they looked familiar.  Ancient
Sagitarian symbols for Alpha and Omega."
   "That's interesting," Taylor said, "In our culture, that language
was the ancient language of the Greek nation.  In that case, you
probably know what Alpha and Omega means."
   "'The first and the last.' We use the term Alpha to denote the first
in a series.  Omega is used more as a proper name though," he said,
thinking only for an instant about the Galactica's long-time Bridge
Officer. "But how in God's name could there be a single weapon capable
of destroying the entire planet?"
   "A little souvenir of the arrogance of my own time," the astronaut
sighed as he stared off into the corner.  "My government built it
because they were afraid their enemies would do the same, and that if
they didn't do it, the other side might succumb to the temptation they
could win a nuclear war.  Therefore, it was important to build a weapon
as terrible as the Alpha-Omega Bomb as a nice wonderful deterrent in
the name of peace."
   Boxey noticed the sarcasm increasing with every word Taylor spoke.
   "Maybe you're being harder than you should be on your government,"
the Galactica warrior finally spoke.
   Taylor turned around and stared quizzically at him.
   "Look at it this way," Boxey said, "The war came and they still
didn't have the nerve to use it.  If they had, then we wouldn't be here
now."
   For the first time, Taylor almost found himself chuckling.  The
warrior's words struck him as funny in a strange, ironic way.
   "You know," he said, "For some reason, that never occurred to me. 
But then again, the way things are now, maybe it would have been better
off if they had used it back then."
   "What for?" Boxey scoffed, "Then there'd be no Earth left, and no
hope left at all."
   "Is there any hope left?  You've seen things for yourself,
Lieutenant.  Your people won't find anything of value here.  Not on
this planet."
   "Felgercarb," Boxey interrupted, oblivious to Taylor's ignorance of
the term, "Decimated or not, this planet is what my people have given
twenty-five yahrens or years of our lives trying to find and settle so
we can have a place to fight back against our enemy."
   The American astronaut's quizzical stare deepened.
   "Is that what you really want this planet for, Lieutenant?" he asked
gently.  "So you can go on fighting your damned wars?"
   "The war we're fighting isn't like the one your people fought,
Colonel.  We never asked for it.  It's not our fault that a bunch of
machines decided for no good reason that they had some kind of duty to
exterminate all life forms in the universe.  Starting with the human
race."
   Taylor rolled his eyes and let out a mirthless chuckle.  "Even on
the other side of the galaxy human beings can't keep themselves out of
war and disaster.  Everywhere he exists it's all the same."
   "It's not the same!" Boxey found himself starting to lose his temper
and patience with Taylor. "We were a unified people, Colonel.  We'd
developed a thriving civilization and....."
   "Then why didn't you win the damned war, Lieutenant?" Taylor acidly
retorted.  "If your tribe was so great and so smart and so perfect,
then how in God's name could you lose a war to a bunch of machines and
be forced to fly all the way across the galaxy to find Earth?"
   Boxey eyed Taylor with an increasing amount of disbelief.  Taylor
was the first man he'd ever met in his life who could be classified as
a misanthrope.  A hater of his own race.
   "The machines didn't suddenly get smarter in one night after a
thousand years of fighting, did they Lieutenant?" Taylor pressed on. 
"Or would it be safe for me to say that your Holocaust happened as a
result of some gigantic fuck-ups on your end?"
   In an instant, the Galactica warrior realized that if he told Taylor
the full truth, he'd be confirming the astronaut's harsh judgment.  The
betrayal of humanity by Baltar, a human who had risen to power through
unethical means to begin with, had been the single factor that made the
Holocaust possible.  Human failings and human corruption had caused the
fall of Colonial civilization even more than the Cylon fire of
destruction in the final analysis.  Just like human corruption had
resulted in the Thirteenth Tribe's destruction.  And the bitter legacy
of a planet comprised of brutal intelligent siminoids and primitive
subhumans above, and demented humans below.
   "Okay Colonel," he softened his tone, "Okay, I admit it.  We got
ourselves in our predicament because we had the same flaws that your
people had two thousand yahrens ago. The human race is a flawed race
comprised of flawed people, and there is always the potential for the
flawed instinct to run amuck and lead humanity down the garden path of
disaster.  But let me tell you this, Colonel Taylor.  The only reason
why there's still one fragment of human civilization left after all
this time is because of the courage and wisdom of some good men who
were left after the Holocaust.  If the human race were totally bad,
there wouldn't have been any of us left to come all this way across the
galaxy to look for Earth."
   "And yet what is your first instinct going to be, once you decide to
go ahead and settle here?" Taylor shot back, "You'd have to clear out
the apes, clear out the mutants, tame the primitives.  Somehow, I don't
get the impression that you'd be acting in a democratic fashion in
order to take charge.  It would require brute force on your part."
   "Only if we were forced to so act, Colonel," Boxey held his ground,
"Knowing my father as I do, I don't think his first instinct is going
to be for a military strike and simply conquer the Earth because it's
our Divine Right.  As revolting as I find the siminoids and these
people, there has to be good faith negotiating before it comes to
anything like that."
   "'Good faith negotiating,'" Taylor said with sarcastic irony, "That
reminds me of the kind of bullshit I used to hear from my own
government about what they were doing while they justified building all
the weapons of destruction."
   Boxey almost felt like exploding with frustration.  But at the same
time, he didn't want to run the risk of antagonizing Taylor into
becoming an enemy.  So far, the American astronaut was the first
intelligent human he'd met on the planet and was the only potential
ally he could count on.  If he was to get himself out of this
predicament, he needed Taylor's help.
   "Look Colonel," his voice grew patient, "Let's save the
philosophical debate for another day.  It's in our best interests to
work together and figure a way out of this place."
   "Good luck," Taylor sighed with resignation, "I've been locked up
here for months and still haven't figured a way out since my one
unsuccessful attempt."
   "And unfortunately for you both, that day will never come."
   The two men looked over and saw standing outside the cell the tall,
imposing figure of the dark-skinned man who had led Boxey to Mendez.
   Taylor shook his head in disgust, "What now, Melchior?"
   "It has been most interesting to watch the conversation between the
two of you," the man in robes said, "Unfortunately there can be no
future conversations."
   "Great," Boxey said sourly, "What cell have you got fixed up for me
now?"
   "It is not another cell for you, Lieutenant Boxey," Melchior's voice
grew solemn and grave.  "Since it is clear that the two of you together
constitute a potential threat, one of you must be disposed of."
   Before either of the two humans could react with another retort,
Melchior abruptly shut his eyes and both Taylor and Boxey felt searing
waves of unbearable pain go through their skulls.
   "Our doctrines of peace do not permit us to kill anyone," Melchior
went on as the two writhed about on the floor in agony, "That is why
our enemies must be turned against each other.  And now, you must both
fight to the death in a contest of wills that only one can win."
   Slowly, Taylor and Boxey got back to their feet and their eyes met
each other.  Feelings of cold, venomous hate coarsed through each of
their bodies as they felt their fists going up.  Feelings that they
both knew had been planted inside their minds by the mutants, but which
they were powerless to stave off.
   Abruptly, Taylor charged Boxey full bore and slammed into the
Galactica warrior with a powerful blow to the body.  In an instant,
Boxey had responded with a left punch under the astronaut's chin.
   From outside the cell, Melchior kept his eyes shut in intense
concentration, mentally willing the feelings of hate into the prisoners
and prepared to keep it up until one of them was dead.


   The Galactica landram continued its lonely trek across the desert
terrain trying to find traces of the two men they were searching for. 
Inside, the atmosphere among Athena, Ares and Rollins had gotten
visibly frosty.  Athena knew that Ares was simply obsessed with finding
an opportunity to avenge his protege's death, while Rollins was equally
fixated with Taylor, and whatever plan he had for returning to his own
time.
   A plan that Athena already knew she could not allow to succeed.  As
much as she didn't like to admit it, there was going to be a point
sooner or later when both Rollins and Brent would become her
adversaries.  For now, she simply hoped that phase could be put off for
as long as it possibly could.
   "We're approaching the coastline," the major finally broke the
silence, "According to Starbuck, this was where Taylor and his woman
were last seen heading."
   Rollins glanced out the side window and could see in the distance
the blue waters of what had to be the Atlantic Ocean.  Ever since the
arrival, he'd been trying to see if there would at least be one
tangential sign of something he would recognize, if only to drive the
point home in his mind and heart that this really was his planet, 2000
years later and utterly destroyed.  He had grown up in the New York
area and known this region like the back of his hand.  But so far,
there'd been nothing.
   He strained his eyes to the north and finally thought he saw
something.  At first, it was just a large blurry shape that he
initially thought was just another rock outcropping lining the coast
line.  He soon realized that it was too dark in color for that.
   "Just a second.  I think I see something over there," he pointed. 
   Athena brought the landram to a stop and concentrated her scan beam
in the direction Rollins was pointing.  She looked at the readout. 
"Indications are that it's a structure made of metal.  Buried partially
in the sand."
   "Let's move in closer."
   The landram started up again and moved closer to the distant
contact.  Rollins found himself rubbing his fingers anxiously as he
waited to see it grow more distinct.  Finally, Athena pulled the
vehicle to a stop a scant hundred feet from where the cliff dropped off
to the coastline more than three hundred feet below.
   "We'll have to get out for a visual inspection," the major said. 
The astronaut nodded as he unhitched his belt and stepped outside. 
Here, the heat of the desert had dissipated and the fragrant, salty
breeze of the ocean was blowing in. With a feeling of trepidation,
Rollins made his way to the cliff's edge and cautiously looked down.
   He felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he saw below
him the unmistakable shape of a massive hand holding a torch.  Attached
to a body where the head was lined in the unmistakable contours of a
crown.  All of it half-buried in the sand and weathered to a dark,
rusty brown after more than 2000 years of exposure and neglect to the
elements.
   Rollins stared at the remains of the Statue of Liberty with his hand
covering his mouth and chin for what seemed like an eternity to him. 
He had known that sooner or later, he'd be confronted with a sight that
would drive the point home to him about what had happened to Earth. 
But seeing something as noble and proud as the Statue of Liberty in
this ruined state, a mocking shadow of her former pride and glory,
seemed like an indecency to him.
   He suddenly found himself filled with the childhood memory of
visiting the Statue for the first time on a Fifth Grade field trip and
how terrified he'd felt when the tour group of rowdy school children
had gone up inside the torch to look out at the spectacular vista of
New York Harbor.  His fear had been caused by an Alfred Hitchcock movie
he'd seen at the old Roxy Theater the night before, Saboteur.  A World
War II espionage thriller that climaxed on the Statue with the Nazi
agent falling to his death from the torch.  When he'd stood in that
torch for the first time, the cinematic image of the man falling to his
death had filled his mind so much that he was convinced that one of his
classmates would bump into him and he'd tumble out and fall to his
death the same way too.  He'd gotten so hysterical that his teacher had
finally been forced to drag him back inside to the observation level
below inside the crown.
   And now, 2000 years later in another time and place altogether, he
stood above that very spot that had caused so much childhood trauma for
him.  He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony of the whole
thing.
   "Colonel Rollins?"
   The astronaut turned around and saw a mildly concerned Athena
standing behind him.
   "Oh, I'm sorry Major," he said apologetically.  "I was just, that
is...." 
   "I think I understand," she nodded, "You recognize that?"
   "Yes," he nodded.
   "When you stepped out, the scanner suddenly went off the scale," she
looked off to the north, "There are massive indications of metal
structures, a lot of them buried, about ten kilometers that way."
   "I know what that means," Rollins said quietly, "We've finally
stumbled onto the remains of the city that used to be here."
   "Then we'd better check it out.  It's logical that Taylor and Boxey
might have stumbled onto it themselves."
   As Rollins followed her back to the landram, he found himself
thinking of all the things New York was noted for and that had made him
love the city more than any other spot in the world.  The Broadway
theaters.  The Metropolitan Art Gallery.  Yankee Stadium.  The cozy
restaurant called Pete's Tavern down in the Village where he'd proposed
to his wife.....
   He felt his eyes tearing up and he shook his head vigorously to get
himself out of his dazed stupor.  The last thing he needed to do was
suddenly get sentimental.  All that mattered now was getting back to
the job.
   And once that task was done, there was nothing that could blunt his
determination to get back and undo all that had happened to his planet.


   The news of the gorilla army's quick and hasty retreat from it's
encounter with one human transport vehicle had spread rapidly
throughout Ape City.  Once they had learned the full details, Cornelius
and Zira wasted little time summoning the same group of chimpanzees who
had been at their house the night of the rampage.
   "One transport vehicle turned them into a bunch of laughing-stocks,"
Zira noted dryly as she moved up and down the living room where all her
friends had gathered. "And I think it's safe to say that we can assume
that what this Starbuck said about over 70,000 humans with the capacity
to wipe us all out is true."
   "Let's assume you're correct Zira," the physician Galen said, "What
options do we have apart from demanding an end to the military
campaign?"
   "We insist on a policy of meeting these humans with conciliation if
they show themselves to us!" the psychologist said sharply, "The only
hope we have to save ourselves from destruction is to meet them as
friends."
   "That's all well and good, Zira," Sylvan interjected, "But I'm
curious as to what you suggest we do in the event they aren't
friendly?"
   "That is a non-factor, Professor Sylvan," Cornelius joined the
discussion, "We are already making the assumption that this human
colony possesses weaponry that would decimate us.  We cannot beat
them----"
   "I wonder," Sylvan cut him off.
   "My dear Sylvan," this from a scientist named Milo, "You are
beginning to sound like a gorilla."
   "Oh stop!" the university professor suddenly lost his temper,
"You're all just as bigoted as they are in the final analysis.  Well
maybe it's possible that in this instance, they're correct.  Maybe it's
possible that what's needed to defend our civilization is unity against
a common threat.  Perhaps the gorillas alone can not handle them but if
we were all united----"
   "Are you really serious?" Zira's eyes widened, "Our code as
chimpanzees is dedicated to pacifism----"
   "If you're trying to tell me that a chimpanzee's code of honor is
worth more than the survival of our civilization Zira, then I think you
are just as mad as Ursus and his lot!" Sylvan fired back, "If there's a
rational way to avoid war, that's fine and well.  But I am not about to
go along with any proposal that translates to suicide.  And I will do
all I can to keep you from mobilizing all chimpanzees behind such a
policy."
   "And have us go off to war instead?" Zira held her ground.
   "If we have to," the professor accented the first word.  "In the
name of the Lawgiver, Zira, your prejudice against the gorillas is no
better than theirs toward us."
   "Even if we grant your argument Sylvan, what are you suggesting we
do?" Dr. Milo interjected, "Stand back and wait to see if the humans
are hostile or friendly?"
   The professor looked about the room with his arms folded, "I think
it would be the most prudent thing to do."
   "I stand corrected," Zira said with contempt, "It's not a gorilla
you're thinking like Sylvan, it's more an orangutan!  Everything in the
name of expediency instead of what's right."
   Galen rose from his seat in obvious disgust, "Since it is obvious
that no consensus exists among us, I see little point carrying this
discussion on.  Perhaps when events progress further in the next couple
of days, the time will be more ripe."
   "Agreed." Milo nodded and got to his feet, "Galen, if it's not much
bother, I'd like to examine the bodies of those killed last night by
the fire guns.  Perhaps they might reveal some hidden clue as to what
makes these humans tick, if the effects of their weaponry can be more
easily understood."
   "My facilities are at your disposal, Dr. Milo."  Galen said politely
as he then turned back to his hosts. "Good day, Cornelius.  Zira," As
soon as the physician left, Milo followed with a courteous nod as well,
while Sylvan left without saying anything.
   As soon as the door closed, Cornelius threw his wife a disgusted
look, "Zira, there are times I don't know why I ever put up with your
impetuousness!"
   "Because you know that I'm right, that's why!" she huffily retorted.
   "Of course I know you're right, but....." he broke off and shook his
head in defeat.  There was no way he could prevail when he knew that
her vision was the correct one.  Even he had to concede that was more
important than having a streak of tact.
   "We could always just leave," he mused aloud, "If it turns out that
destruction is what we face, we could always get out of here before it
happens."
   "What kind of solution is that?" Zira scoffed, "Where would we go
to?"
   "I don't know," Cornelius conceded, "But maybe it's possible that
somewhere else on this planet, far beyond the Forbidden Zone, there's
some society, human or ape, that's fared better than our pitiful lot
has."
   "I'm not prepared to concede that," Zira said, "As impetuous and
ill-mannered as that Starbuck was, I could also sense that he didn't
come from a race of brutes.  Until I see what their representatives are
like, I intend to stay."
   He smiled wryly and came over to her.
   "I sometimes think you suffer from a perpetual martyr complex,
Zira," he said, "Maybe you're not as much a pacifist as you think."
   She was on the verge of retorting sharply when she realized the
jocular intent of his remark.  She managed to smile back and took her
husband's outstretched hand.


   Rationality had completely left Taylor as he and Boxey continued
their death struggle in the cell.  The astronaut's eyes had grown wild
and red like that of a mad beast as he again grabbed hold of the
warrior and managed to slam him against the far wall.
   As Boxey felt the impact of his head against the wall, the same
instincts of rage, hate and the desire to kill filled his mind and body
as well.  But a tiny crack of sanity remained present in his mind,
understanding what was happening to the both of them and why the mutant
called Melchior had decreed it.  And within that tiny crack of
rationality, the Galactica warrior was struggling desperately to recall
something his father had once taught him several yahrens ago. 
Something Apollo had been taught yahrens earlier by Adama.....
   What?  his mind screamed out helplessly as he felt himself prepare
for another mad charge at Taylor.  The question still rang out even as
he crashed into Taylor and sent the astronaut backward where he slipped
and slammed shoulder first into the other side of the cell.  What was
it?  Some special training course in......
   From the corner of his eye he saw the cell door swing open and
Melchior enter, holding a spike tipped steel club.  One blow to the
body from such a weapon, especially in the upper regions would
certainly mean instant death.
   "The hand-to-hand struggle has gone on long enough," the white-robed
man said as he tossed the club to the floor, "Let us see who best makes
use of this."
   In an instant, Taylor lunged for the deadly weapon and then
collapsed when Boxey grabbed the astronaut's leg and dragged him back
to the floor.  Taylor let out several wild grunts as he tried to shake
himself loose from Boxey's grasp so he could grab the club and complete
the only task filling his mind.  The strain finally proved too much for
Boxey, and Taylor wriggled free of the warrior's hold.  As Boxey
scrambled to his feet, he saw Taylor grab the club and in one angry,
frenzied motion swing it directly at Boxey's head.
   The warrior darted to his right to avoid the blow and the spiked
head of the club impacted against the wall, burying a deep hole in the
wood surface.  As Taylor reached for the club to pull it out, Boxey
wasted no time in ramming the astronaut directly in the chest again. 
Taylor fell backward and grabbed hold of Boxey's arm causing the
warrior to collapse directly on his chest.
   Boxey now felt his hands going about Taylor's face, on the verge of
gouging his fingers right into the astronaut's eyes.  If it hadn't been
for the tiny spark inside his mind screaming What? over and over, he
would have allowed his rage to take control to the fullest extent and
proceeded with mutilating Taylor's face into an unrecognizable bloody
mess.  But still, he briefly hesitated, trying to let his mind drive
the force implanted by Melchior out.
   Of course!
   As soon as the realization hit Boxey, he felt Taylor's teeth come
down on his hand in a savage bite.  The warrior pulled it back and saw
blood flowing from a deep gash just as Taylor shoved him back across
the cell.  The astronaut then instinctively grabbed at the club that
still protruded from the wall until it came loose in his hands.  Taylor
then eyed Boxey with savage hatred as he began to slowly approach the
warrior, swinging his club slowly in an ominous, back and forth motion.
   Boxey moved back defensively, trying to anticipate where Taylor
would finally bring down the force of the club and its lethal, spiked
edge.  A blow to the arm or leg would be serious.  To the head would be
fatal.
   Taylor swung the club toward Boxey.  The warrior jumped and the
weapon passed only through air.  Taylor swung again and Boxey had to go
into a rolling dive across the floor to avoid being hit again.  He
looked up and saw Taylor moving toward him again, this time more
slowly.  And then, the astronaut let out a hate-filled snarl as he
cocked his arm back and prepared to bring down the club squarely on
Boxey's head.
   The warrior went into another roll, and as the club crashed against
the floor, Boxey delivered a solid kick to Taylor's wrist.  He gasped
in pain and dropped the weapon which Boxey wasted no time in snatching.
   Even in his irrational, hate-filled state of mind, Taylor realized
the mistake he'd made and began to back up into a defensive posture. 
The roles were now reversed as Boxey began to approach in ominous
fashion toward Taylor, swinging the club in the same to and fro motion. 
When Taylor felt his body touch the back wall, the astronaut promptly
put his hand over his face as though he felt he'd run out of all other
options.
   Boxey swung the club high in the air above Taylor's head.  And then,
just as it reached the angle where it would have begun it's downward
descent, the Galactica warrior hurled it across the room where Melchior
stood in the doorway.  The sharp steel tips of the ball end promptly
impacted right in the chest of the dark-skinned man's white robes.
   Melchior's eyes widened in shock as he grabbed at the club that was
now impaled in his body at an ugly angle.  An enormous red stain began
to spread across his robes as the arteries running into his heart were
severed.  Too weak to pull it out, the dark-skinned man collapsed to
the floor.
   Boxey came up to Melchior's writhing form and glared at him with
contempt.  The dark-skinned man had given up trying to remove the club
from his body and was instead reaching up to the hood on top of his
head.
   "In....death," Melchior barely managed to croak his words out,
"I.....reveal my true self....to my god."
   The warrior's eyes widened in astonishment as he saw Melchior pull
and tug at his hood and face until it began to peel off.  Seconds
later, as his last dying breath escaped, Melchior's true appearance was
at last visible to Boxey.
   There had been nothing in Taylor's warning to prepare him for the
revolting sight Boxey now saw.  The face of the handsome dark-skinned
male had now been replaced by a hideous, hairless, deformed face with
more than eight layers of outer skin missing and the remaining surface
badly deformed and splotched with many scars.  The eyes were almost
totally sunken within the frame.   2000 yahrens of exposure to the
effects of the nuclear holocaust had taken an unforgiving toll on the
descendants of the original survivors of this colony.  It had
completely stripped away their human appearance and left all of them
hideously deformed. 
   The sight finally proved too much for Boxey as he turned away and
retched.  He was still staggering from the after-effects when he felt a
hand on his shoulder.
   "Are you okay?"
   He looked back and saw Taylor standing by him with a concerned look. 
All of the hatred and rage was gone from him now and his normal
expression had returned.
   "Yeah," Boxey took a breath and felt his composure come back. 
"Yeah, I'm okay.  How about you?"
   "Like shit, but normal again," Taylor said and then noticed the
blood flowing from the gash in Boxey's hand, "Here let me help with
that."  The astronaut ripped off part of Boxey's uniform sleeve and
fashioned a tourniquet that he wrapped around Boxey's hand.
   "Thanks Colonel," Boxey grunted, "You have very sharp teeth."
   "Sorry," Taylor smiled thinly as he tied the tourniquet knot and
stemmed the flow of blood from Boxey's hand, "How in the world did you
manage to shake free of his influence?"
   The warrior shook his head in disgust, "All along, the solution was
staring me in the face.  Something my father taught me a long time ago
about a special training program in mind control and discipline that my
grandfather learned many yahrens before."
   "Mind control?" Taylor frowned.
   "I'll explain it another time, Colonel," Boxey said, "The bottom
line is that if I just concentrate hard I can block all of their
influences out completely.  Crowd my mind with other thoughts.  They
won't be able to lay a finger on me from now on."
   "All well and good for you," the astronaut said, "That still doesn't
help me."
   "Oh yes it does," Boxey said as he reached down and pulled hard at
the club that was still impaled in Melchior's chest.  It took more than
a minute for the bloody end to come loose.  When it came out, he could
see the full magnitude of the gaping wound in the dead mutant's chest.
   "I'll keep hold of this," Boxey said as he forced the bile back down
in his throat.  "The instant they try one of their mind control stunts
on you again, I'll kill them if I have to.  From our standpoint, we're
totally invulnerable.  We should have no trouble getting out of this
mad house."
   "Hold it, Lieutenant," Taylor grabbed him by the shoulder just as
Boxey started to move for the doorway.
   "Yes?"
   "I'm not leaving without Nova," he said with firm determination,
"They're holding her prisoner somewhere else in this complex, and until
I have her, I'm not leaving.  My life isn't worth a crock of shit
without her."
   "Do you know specifically where she is, Colonel?" Boxey kept his
voice patient.
   "No," Taylor admitted.
   "Then I think prudence would dictate that we escape from the city
first, get back to the surface and find a way for me to get in touch
with my people.  Once I can get a team of warriors back down here,
we'll have a better chance of finding her."
   "I can't take that chance, Lieutenant," an edge of testiness entered
the astronaut's voice.  "For all intents and purposes, Nova is my wife. 
I love her and She's carrying my child.  I want her out of this evil
place now!"
   "Colonel----"
   "For Christ's sake, you just said you were invulnerable because of
your mind control or whatever you called it!  That means it doesn't
matter how long we stay here."
   "Colonel, I have a responsibility to my people first, and to two
friends of mine who may very well be rotting in some siminoid prison
unless I get out of here----"
   Boxey was then cut off as Taylor delivered a karate blow to the
warrior's arm, causing him to drop the club.  As Boxey grunted in pain,
Taylor snatched it off the floor.
   "Shove your responsibility, Lieutenant," Taylor said coldly as he
held the club.  "Now I don't want to hurt you.  I need you and you need
me.  But I'm not going to be any help to you or your people unless I
have Nova back.  That means we're going to tear up this fucking place
until we find her, and then we can go."
   As Boxey rubbed his arm, he almost felt the urge to smile.  He
wondered deep down if he might have acted any differently if he'd been
in Taylor's position.  He could certainly envision his father acting
the same if it had been Sheba being held prisoner.
   "You're a stubborn man, Colonel Taylor," he finally spoke and
motioned toward the door, "Lead on."


   On the East Balcony overlooking the main concourse of what was once
Grand Central Station, the leader of the mutant colony, Mendez XXVI,
sat upon his throne chair staring out across the open space of the
concourse.  On each side, he was flanked by Albina and the fat man. 
The three of them had harnessed all of their mental powers to produce
an image of what was taking place just one thousand feet above them on
the planet's surface, and ten miles away.  It represented the maximum
range that their minds were capable of scanning.  Had they possessed
the ability to see what was happening over greater distances,
specifically at what was happening in Ape City, they knew that their
immediate problem would have been solved long ago.
   Lieutenant Boxey's friends have arrived, Albina communicated through
the silent impulses that had displaced standard vocalization as the
primary mode of speech hundreds of years ago.
   Yes, Mendez agreed as they saw the image of the landram moving away
from the remains of the Statue of Liberty.  Soon, they will discover
the remains of the city that are still visible above the surface. 
   Perhaps we should receive them, the fat man offered.  They may know
more about what is happening with the apes than their friend did.
   No, Albina harshly retorted, even as her expression remained blank
and directed at the vision.  Based on the hostile reaction of
Lieutenant Boxey to our society, the presence of more than one of his
kind amongst us threatens our very fabric of existence as much as the
apes do.  We must hinder their ability to approach us. 
   Agreed, Mendez would have nodded, but felt no need to.  Let us
proceed.


   "We should have visual contact in less than three centons," Athena
said as she continued to drive the landram across the rocky surface.
   "How long is a centon again?" Rollins absently inquired as he kept
his eyes facing forward.
   "Centon equals what you call a minute.  Centar is an hour and so on. 
I may be mistaken, but I think your terms for time units may have been
used in one of the ancient languages of our society."
   "I'll be interested in learning more later on," the Air Force
colonel grunted as he kept straining his eyes forward, wondering how
much of the familiar Manhattan skyline would be left when it came into
view.
   Suddenly, without any warning, a massive wall of fire erupted in
front of them.  The blazing inferno stretched across their entire field
of vision and seemed to shoot up into the sky as far as the eye could
see.
   "What the frack----?" Ares was finally shaken loose from his dark
brooding as he leaned forward.
   Athena promptly put on the brakes, bringing the landram to a stop. 
She and Rollins were equally dumbfounded.
   "This can't be," Athena finally managed to speak.  "There's no
scanner indication of fire or volcanic activity underneath. 
Theoretically, that fire shouldn't be there."
   "It sure looks real enough to me, Major," Ares said as he felt the
perspiration break out on his forehead, "Even in here I can feel it."
   "Do we turn back then?" Rollins stared at the inferno, trying to
figure out what it could possibly mean.  "We could reach New York from
another direction."
   "From the west, instead of the south?" Athena cautiously glanced at
him.  "That would take at least another couple of centars to backtrack
and then go west and north before we could approach from that area."
   "Looks as though we've got no choice," Rollins kept looking at the
fire, "That doesn't look like something we should mess with."
   Athena put her hand under her chin in deep contemplation.  To her,
there was something about the inferno outside that just didn't add up.
   "Major?" Ares prodded, "Shouldn't we get moving?"
   With more than a trace of reluctance inside her, Athena hit the
reverse gear of the landram and the craft backed away from the blaze. 
Within moments, it was headed back in the opposite direction.


   Dr. Zaius knew that if Ursus were true to character, the gorilla
general was going to give him an enormous headache before he was done
seeing him.  The instant he handed him the directive signed by
Claudius, the gorilla general didn't let him down.
   "This is an outrage!" Ursus crumpled the paper in his hand, "I am
the commander of the Ape Police!  What are your qualifications for
leading a gorilla army into battle?"
   "The President has given you his directive, General," the Chief
Scientist said patiently, "From his standpoint, he thinks it best that
a representative of the Ruling Class be present if it turns out that
circumstances will dictate negotiations."
   "Negotiations?!" the general spluttered.  "Why has our President
suddenly backtracked from the glorious call to war that he himself
instigated and encouraged?"
   Because he possesses more than half a mind, unlike you, Zaius
thought with contempt.
   "Your first encounter with a human force did not go well, General. 
If that is a prelude to what we might face if the humans are as strong
as our chimpanzee friends warn, then we do Ape Civilization no good in
committing suicide."
   Ursus snarled defiantly, unable to say anything else at that point. 
He slouched in a corner for over a moment before he finally spoke.
   "Very well," the reluctance in his voice was thick, "But we regroup
for a new expedition to the Forbidden Zone tomorrow morning! I will not
waste idle time when I am convinced that we face imminent danger."
   "So be it," Zaius decided to give ground where he could.  "At dawn
tomorrow it shall be."


   After leaving the cell, Taylor and Boxey both made their way down
the corridor filled with the busts of all the past Mendezes. The
Galactica warrior stopped for only an instant to glance at the row of
busts and shook his head in amazement.
   "The first Mendez must have been a remarkable person," he said idly.
   Taylor let out a mirthless chuckle, "I have no idea who he was, but
he had to have been the man who took charge of the survivors after the
initial Holocaust.  I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he was some
low-level city official."
   As they kept moving down the hallway Boxey couldn't help but wonder
if this colony of mutants hadn't been unlike his own people at the time
of the Cylon Holocaust and the Exodus from the colonies.  Trying to
cope with the tragedy of losing all they had cherished.  Struggling to
make do in a new life of total uncertainty.
   Whoever the first Mendez had been, there was no question he had one
thing in common with Boxey's late grandfather, Commander Adama, in
assuming that monumental task as the leader of such a people.
   I wonder, Boxey mused as he and Taylor reached the end of the
hallway.  If we'd been in space as long as these people have been down
here, would we have ended up just as demented?  A twisted shadow of our
former selves, unable to remember the wisdom of our ancestors?
   It was enough to make him realize that on one level, he could pity
the mutants, even while despising all that they stood for now.
   Taylor peered around the corner to see if any of the mutants were
visible.  Seeing none, he motioned his arm for Boxey to follow.
   "You're the expert on the layout of this colony, Colonel," Boxey
said, "Do you have any idea where to look?"
   "All I know is it's not that way," Taylor waved his hand behind as
he moved off to the right, "That way is the Cathedral.  The place where
they go to bend down in homage before their holy bomb."
   "And this way?"
   "This way leads further east.  When I escaped the last time, I got
the sense that the bulk of their colony lies in that direction."
   "Any particular reason?"
   "Not really," Taylor shook his head.  He'd grown up in Indiana, gone
to the Air Force Academy in Colorado and spent most of his working life
in Texas and Florida.  New York had never seemed like home to him, even
though he had visited it more than a dozen times in his life.  "It just
seemed that way."
   "Let's hope your hunch is correct." Boxey said as they moved on.


   Nearby, above the Grand Central Station Concourse, Mendez, Albina
and the fat man were watching the mental image of the landram's retreat
from the illusory fire they had created.
   Excellent, Mendez said with satisfaction.  They have accepted it as
real.  Perhaps it will dissuade them from approaching again.
   They are most likely apt to approach from another direction, Albina
cautioned.  Should they do so again, we must utilize a different
deterrent.
   Abruptly, the three mutants felt their bodies stagger as the images
of what was happening elsewhere filled their minds.
   Our brother Melchior cries out in death, the fat man grabbed hold of
the railing.  But how and why? 
   Albina was the first to recover.  Her icily beautiful face locked
into a penetrating stare that soon produced a new mental image at the
other side of the Concourse.   In an instant, a picture of Taylor and
Boxey escaping from their cell and walking down the Corridor of Busts
appeared.
   They have escaped, her silent tone was grave.  Somehow, they have
overpowered our brother Melchior and escaped.
   We can not permit them to leave.  The urgency was heavy in Mendez's
expression.  Our secret must be preserved if our purity is to be
maintained.  Perhaps if we overpower them from a distance, we can
thwart them.
   Agreed, the fat man nodded.  Let us concentrate all of our efforts
toward achieving that end.


   There were numerous panels of light gleaming in an on-off pattern
along the walls as Taylor and Boxey made their way down the hallway
adjacent to the Corridor of Busts.  Underneath the light panels were
several steel doors reminiscent of a submarine compartment door to
Taylor.  But when the astronaut tried to turn the valve controlling the
doors open, it refused to budge.
   "Forget it Colonel," Boxey said, "Let's move on."
   The astronaut nodded and they resumed their journey down the dark
corridor where only the light panels provided illumination. 
   At one point, Boxey saw the lights casting a glow on a weatherbeaten
sign along the corridor wall.  He stopped briefly to read it.
   "Oyster Bar Restaurant," he said aloud, "Sound familiar to you?"
   "Yes," Taylor nodded, "That means we're under Grand Central Station. 
Above us is the place where Mendez and his chief aides brought us here
initially."
   "Then that would mean they're right above us and if they're aware
that we've escaped----"
   Before Boxey could finish his sentence, an alarm bell kicked off in
his head as he stopped in his tracks and shut his eyes in deep
concentration.  He could feel the waves of the outside influences
attempting to penetrate his brain and force him into the depths of an
illusory madness.  But because he had channeled his thoughts according
to the Special Training Program his grandfather had taken at the
Colonial Military Academy and then passed on to Apollo, who in turn had
passed them on to him, he could feel them bouncing harmlessly off him,
failing to dent his concentration in the least.
   You have no power over me, his mind chanted over and over.  Your
powers are but an illusion and I refuse to believe in you or anything
else you summon.
   How easy it seemed to him!  Apollo had told him how Adama had been
able to master the power to the point where he could force an object to
move several feet across a table.  But this was far simpler than making
a material object move.  All he was doing was blocking out impulse
patterns that had no tangible form or substance.  They were as harmless
as the waves in a millpond.
   Suddenly, Boxey's concentration was broken when he heard a snarl
from behind him.  He turned around and saw that Taylor had the same
wild animal look he'd had during their hand-to-hand struggle in the
cell.
   Oh dear God, Boxey thought with horror.  He's still vulnerable to
them.  And if I can't get to the source of the ones exercising control
over him, I can't do anything about it.
   The astronaut, who had not relinquished the spiked club since they'd
left the cell, stepped menacingly toward the Galactica warrior as he
began to twirl his lethal weapon in a back-and-forth motion.

                    Chapter Ten

   "As all members are now present, the Chair declares that the Council
of Twelve is now in formal session," Apollo said as he brought down the
ceremonial gavel on the table with a hard rap.  He looked about the
table and saw on the faces of his eleven colleagues the very expression
that he hoped wouldn't be there.  An air of total deferential reverence
lined all of their faces, whether they were young members like Sire
Kort, or elderly veterans who's tenure went all the way back to the
beginning of the Galactica's flight from the Colonies like Siress Tinia
and Sire Anton.  Clearly, all of them were waiting to hear from him and
what his ideas were on the impending crisis the Fleet now faced.
   I almost wish the Council was filled with trouble-making egomaniacs
like it was in Father's day, Apollo sighed to himself. At the very
least, people like that wouldn't hesitate to put forth different ideas. 
And the whole burden of coming up with a solution wouldn't be totally
on my shoulders.
   "Brother members," Apollo began, "As you have no doubt seen in the
summary report provided to you by Colonel Sheba, we face a difficult
situation on Earth that does not resemble one that any of us
anticipated.  We face an Earth that has sadly gone backwards from a
fifth millennia civilization that had just begun to branch out into
space, into something that I don't think has existed since the earliest
days of life on Kobol itself.  With the exception of the two survivors
from Earth's past, Colonel Rollins and Major Brent, the entire human
population on Earth is savage, primitive, and almost devoid of rational
thought.  Theoretically, interbreeding with this society of humans
could accelerate their natural evolution into an intelligent
civilization by many thousands of yahrens.  However, the problem we
face is that another species on Earth has become the dominant master."
   "We have seen the report, Mr. President," Sire Anton, the oldest
member of the Council spoke up.  There were some who wondered if the
one-time Chief Aide to the late President Adar was closer to 150 in age
than 100.  Whatever the case, Anton's perpetually genial expression had
been one of the few things to remain constant on the Council down
through the yahrens.  "And there is no doubt, it is quite shocking.  An
intelligent race of...siminoids?"
   "Yes," Apollo nodded, "Siminoids.  By far the most brutal species of
animal life that existed in our Colonies.  So brutal that no thought
was ever given to taking any aboard our Zoological Ship as a means of
perpetuating the species in our society.  And yet, we face the fact
that if we are to go ahead with our long-standing goal of settling our
population on the Thirteenth Colony, we will have to deal somehow with
this siminoid society."
   "Mr. President," young Sire Kort jumped in, "I can safely assure you
that the people would support any military action needed to secure
Earth for settlement.  And I think that goes for all of us, would it
not?" he eyed the rest of the members seated around the table.
   Some murmurings of assent went up from the majority of the members. 
Apollo noticed that Siress Tinia was one of the few exceptions and he
hoped that would present an opportunity.
   "We may as well dispense with all other formalities, Mr. President,"
Kort went on, "If you wish to place a motion before us authorizing
military action against this race of monsters, I shall immediately
second it and we can go to the vote."
   "Wait just a micron," Apollo patiently held up a hand, "I think that
due to the gravity of this situation, haste is the last thing we should
engage in."
   Some frowns came over the faces of the members who'd been muttering
their support for Kort's words.
   "Mr. President, with all due respect, does any other viable option
confront us?" Anton's perpetual smile remained unaltered. "We know
enough of this siminoid society to realize that they are a total menace
toward our ability to settle on Earth."
   "But is a sudden sneak attack justified under the circumstances?"
Apollo decided to commit himself, "Do we not at least owe this society
the chance of some direct contact so we can fully gauge their
intentions?"
   "Their intentions seem self-evident Mr. President," Kort jumped back
in with a growing sense of befuddlement.  "Captain Starbuck's report is
quite explicit as to their brutality toward humans."
   "I don't think any of that can and will be disputed, Sire Kort,"
Apollo said, determined not to show up any potential opponents. 
"Preparations should be made for decisive military action if it becomes
clear that the siminoid society is not willing to talk to us and
realize that they can survive by changing their ways and living with us
in peace."
   "It is a possibility to consider, Mr. President," Siress Tinia
decided to speak up, "Clearly, this siminoid society does not pose a
direct threat to our own in that they are utterly primitive and
inferior by our standards.  Time therefore, is a luxury we can afford."
   "But with all due respect Siress Tinia, it is not a luxury we can
afford as far as making a decision on whether Earth remains viable for
immediate settlement," Kort said, "The people are anxious to finally be
set free from these cages they've been crowded inside for twenty five
yahrens.  The sooner we remove any impediment to that settlement, the
better."
   "My dear Sire Kort, I need not remind you that even absent the
siminoid problem, we would not be in any position to land immediately
on Earth since we are all aware that the problem of the Cylons remains
no less dangerous now than it ever has been," Tinia held her ground. 
Her demure feminine voice never belied the fierce protectiveness she'd
always displayed toward any proposals emanating from Apollo and Adama
before.  As much as Apollo admired and respected Tinia as a Council
ally though, he sometimes wondered if her unflagging support down
through the yahrens was connected to some kind of romantic relationship
she and Adama had shared at some point.  He had always suspected that
his father and Tinia had taken more than a passing interest in each
other, but Adama had sternly refused to confirm it to him or anyone
else.  If Adama and Tinia had enjoyed some kind of relationship, then
it had been carried out with the utmost discretion.
   "Mr. President, I think we are finding ourselves weighed down by
distractions," Anton reentered the discussion, "The issue before us is
what to do with the siminoid society on Earth.  May I suggest to my
brother members that we stick to that for now."
   "I quite agree," a new voice spoke, "Because I must confess that I
find the President's reluctance to admit the obvious, baffling to say
the least."
   Apollo resisted the urge to smile.  For yahrens, he'd wondered when
his father's old adversary Sire Antipas would finally go back to his
old habits of speaking out with condescending sarcasm.  The same aura
of condescension that had led him to unsuccessfully challenge Adama's
leadership several times over the last twenty yahrens.  Since Adama's
death and Apollo's rise to power, Antipas had mellowed somewhat, but
never to the point where Apollo felt comfortable that Antipas had
changed for good. And now, it seemed clear that Antipas was seizing at
the chance to be the old Antipas once again after so many yahrens of
deferring to the majority opinion that took everything Apollo proposed
for granted.
   "Why does it baffle you, Sire Antipas?" Apollo inquired gently, "You
have long struck me as one who was always disdainful of quick, military
solutions."
   "But not in this instance!" Antipas retorted.  "For more than twenty
yahrens, I put up with your father's insistence of how our destiny was
to settle on Earth only, and that any talk of finding another home for
humanity bordered on the treasonous.  Well, I learned to accept your
father's way of thinking about Earth, my dear Commander Apollo.  And
now that we find it to be nothing at all like anything we had hoped
for, you are not willing to take the obvious step of living up to your
own father's promise and making Earth habitable for us!"
   An uneasy air settled in over the Council table as all of the
members kept their eyes trained on Apollo and Antipas, wondering where
the debate would go next. Inside, Apollo felt relieved that his father
had given him careful instruction down through the yahrens in how to
meet one's opponents with tact and diplomacy. He wasn't about to forget
any of those lessons now.
   "Sire Antipas," he said, still with noticeable courtesy in his
voice, "I understand your objection.  It's the first instinct in most
of us to take the quick solution and eradicate a potential enemy that
we are quite capable of handling.  However....." he purposefully let
his voice trail off so that every other member would lean forward and
wait to hear where he was going with anxious breath.  "However we face
the disquieting fact that this race of siminoids, however repulsive
they seem to us in their appearance and in their practices, is still a
thriving society of living creatures.  A society that evidently is
unaware for the most part that they occupy a planet where a thriving
civilization of humans once ruled."
   He paused and then prepared to drive the ultimate point home.
   "I can not help but think that if we were to suddenly descend on
this society with guns blazing and our vipers weaving a path of total
destruction, we would be no less guilty of the very crime the Cylons
perpetrated against us twenty-five yahrens ago."
   Most of the members stared at him in pensive silence.  Only Antipas
let out a vocal reaction in the form of a loud guffaw.
   "Think of it," Apollo went on, "A sudden sneak attack against a
thriving civilization only because it threatened our territorial
ambitions.  Could any of us undertake such action without realizing the
moral consequences?  I can not believe that God Almighty and the Lords
of Kobol have protected us all these yahrens so that we might be forced
one day to become no different than the enemy we've defended our
civilization against."
   "What are you suggesting then, Mr. President?" Antipas sourly
inquired.  "What sort of gesture do we make to the siminoids to
convince them that they must learn to accept us?"
   Apollo carefully folded his hands, "I propose that my personal
shuttlecraft containing myself and various representative from both the
Council and the military land in the siminoid city and talk directly to
their government.  A viper patrol will remain overhead at all times to
monitor our status.  In the event we do not return within a proscribed
time, or have not contacted our patrol to inform them of our safety,
then," he briefly paused for effect and lifted his finger emphatically,
"Then and only then will a military strike take place."
   An uneasy stir went up from among the members.  At the far end of
the Council chamber, where she'd stood passively watching the
proceedings, Sheba suddenly felt her body lock up.
   "You are willing to put your life in jeopardy at the mercy of this
brutal race, Mr. President?" Anton's eyes widened in amazement.
   "Our party will not go unarmed," Apollo said firmly.  "A security
escort, fully armed with laser pistols will be alongside us on the
ground.  The slightest hostile move on their part to capture us will
not be difficult for us to overcome."
   "Perhaps.  Perhaps not," Kort cautioned, "Given the numbers that
exist in this society that might be more than enough to compensate for
their lack of adequate weaponry."
   "Let the Lords dictate my fate, and the success of this mission,"
Apollo rose from his chair, "Is there any one among you who wishes to
volunteer for this delegation?"
   A long silence permeated the chamber as Apollo stared into the faces
of the nine men and two women who comprised the rest of the Council. 
Finally, to Apollo's amazement, Sire Antipas was the first to rise.
   "I volunteer," he said coldly, "Because I want to be there when I
see this attempt fail as I expect it too."
   Almost immediately, Siress Tinia was on her feet as well.
   "I too shall go," she said with a withering glance at Antipas,
"Because I think it possible that our President's judgment in this
matter shall ultimately be vindicated."
   "Thank you Sire Antipas, Siress Tinia," Apollo smiled and motioned
to the door, "If you two will report to Alpha Bay and stand by, we
should be under way within a centar."
   "God speed to you, Mr. President," Anton said, "Your mission has our
support and our prayers."
   Apollo then tapped his gavel which formally adjourned the meeting. 
As the members filed out, Apollo looked back at the other end and
noticed his wife still standing with her arms folded and her expression
locked into one of total self-control that he knew right away was an
indication that she was trying to conceal anguish and tension inside
her.
   As soon as the last of the members had gone and the two of them were
alone, Apollo finally made his way over to her.
   "Hey," he said reassuringly as he touched her shoulder, "It's going
to be all right."
   "Let me go with you," Sheba's voice was firm but he could sense the
faint edge of apprehension that no one else would have noticed, "If you
want to risk your life, then let me go with you too."
   "You can't go Sheba," Apollo said, softly but with equal firmness,
"You have to be in charge while I'm absent.  That's why you're the
Executive Officer.  Risking the both of us would be a very foolish
thing to do for the Fleet's well-being."
   "And if something happens to you down there, do you really think I'm
going to have the nerve to act as a leader?" her voice cracked.
   "If I didn't think that, Sheba, I'd have given the job to Athena."
he didn't want any trace of anger to enter his voice, "You're the only
other person in this Fleet with command instincts.  You have to be
ready to use them if God forbid I'm wrong and they meet us with
violence."
   She let out a forlorn sigh and lowered her head.
   "You know what they almost did to Starbuck and to Hera," her tone
grew pointed, "And they might very well have Boxey prisoner now.  Does
it really mean so much to you that you have to talk directly with
them?"
   "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I acted the way the
Council wanted me to act," Apollo said, "Because if the values the
human race has fought to preserve these last thousand yahrens mean
anything, then we can't start borrowing a page from the Cylons
handbook.  I have to look the siminoids in the eye and have no doubts
left as to what the right course of action is.  I can't let Boxey enter
the equation at all, or I'm useless as a Commander."
   She looked up into his green eyes and smiled weakly.
   "Okay," she said, "But the split instant you realize that you're
wrong, you'd better high-tail your astrum back into that shuttle right
away."
   "That's a promise," Apollo squeezed her hand. "I'm still the same
self-assured person I was twenty-five yahrens ago, Sheba, but one thing
I don't have anymore is a death wish.  I'm going to do what I have to
do, and then I'm going to come back to the one thing I love more than
anything else in the universe."
   Sheba lifted her mouth toward his and the two shared a long kiss
that lasted nearly two centons.  When he finally let go of her, the two
immediately straightened themselves out into business-like postures.
   "Notify our guest Major Brent that he's to report to Alpha Bay
immediately.  Also tell Captain Castor to have his best security team
readied for the operation, and then see to it that Red Squadron patrol
is ready for duty as well."  Apollo's tone was completely that of a
commander addressing a subordinate.
   "Yes sir," Sheba replied crisply and started for the door.


   In a section of the Galactica's VIP Quarters, Brent lay sprawled
across the bed looking up at the ceiling, totally lost in thought.
   Only one thought filled every part of his body.  The question of how
he was going to be able to get back to the 20th Century.  Back to where
he belonged.  Where he knew he had obligations to set things right with
his family.  And more importantly, where he knew he had an even bigger
obligation to undo the horror of what he had witnessed on this future
Earth.
   He was convinced that this advanced civilization had to possess the
means that would enable him to return, even though it was something
they evidently had never tried before.  But as he kept thinking about
it, and kept staring at the duplicate copy he had scribbled down of the
Hasslein procedure that the Magellan II had planned to operate under,
he was convinced that all he needed was the right kind of ship.  The
Magellan II was clearly beyond all hope of repairing, but somewhere in
this vast Fleet of more than 200 ships there had to be something that
would do the trick.
   Those were his immediate problems then.  Figuring out which ship
could suit his purpose.  And then, wait for Rollins to return with the
information they needed that would help steer the society of the 20th
Century away from the path of destruction.
   But then again, what if Rollins didn't find what they needed to know
to prevent the destruction?  What if Rollins found that Taylor, like
Landon, Dodge and Stewart was also dead, and with him all the secrets
about how Earth had degenerated into a Planet of the Apes?
   What if Rollins didn't survive the search for Taylor?
   As Brent's mind formed each of those questions, the answer was all
too clear to him.  Irregardless of whether or not Rollins and Taylor
came back, and irregardless of whether or not he had the information
needed to change history there was no doubt in Brent's mind that he was
going back to his own time.  If he couldn't save the 20th Century from
destruction, then at the very least he wanted to die at home in a place
that was familiar and dear to him, and not in some horrible desolate
place in the distant future.  For more than the first time, he thought
about Landon, Dodge and Stewart and shuddered at how three people he'd
known well had met such horrible ends.  Stewart, the female astronaut
who'd volunteered solely to become a breeding partner. Dead before the
Magellan had landed and permanently entombed in the Magellan's rotting
carcass at the bottom of Long Island Sound.  A sad waste for such a
beautiful woman that half the men in the Astronaut Corps had always
lusted after.  Dodge, the brilliant scientist devoted to exploration. 
Shot dead and then stuffed and mounted for display in an Ape museum. 
An ignoble end for a man who'd been the first African-American to
graduate valedictorian from Harvard.
   And Landon.  By far, his fate was the most horrible and made him
shudder the most since Landon had been his best friend in the Corps.
Landon, a tower of strength in the West Point backfield who'd
single-handedly won the most memorable Army-Navy game of all time. 
Landon, the Heisman Trophy winner who'd turned down an NFL career to
stay in the military and become an astronaut.  The man who'd attracted
all that attention was still alive on that planet with his brain cut
out and all of his intelligence and sense of identity gone forever. 
Reduced to spending the rest of his life wandering about as a
half-naked savage.
   I'm not going to end up like that, Brent vowed for the hundredth
time in the last hour.  One way or the other, I'm going home.
   His thought pattern was disrupted when he heard the door to the
corridor slide open and saw Sheba enter.
   "Yes, Colonel?" he politely inquired.
   "Major Brent, you're needed in the Landing Bay," Sheba said. 
"Commander Apollo wants you to accompany his delegation that will be
meeting with the siminoid government."
   Brent frowned and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he came
to a sitting position. "What am I needed for?"
   "We're going to be dealing with individuals who have already met
your missing friend Colonel Taylor," she said, "And since you're the
only available person who knows Colonel Taylor, that might prove
helpful when we try to talk to them."
   "I'm not a diplomat, Colonel Sheba," Brent said patiently.  At the
moment, the last thing he wanted to do was go back to Earth.  He wanted
to stay aboard the Galactica and get the information he needed about
how he could return to the 20th Century.  "And frankly, after hearing
how the apes, or siminoids as you call them, treated my other friends
who are dead now, I wouldn't be in the mood to talk to them about
anything."
   "They've also killed one of our warriors too, Major, but we can't
let that stop us from trying to find out if we can avoid more
bloodshed," Apollo's words had made Sheba realize that she needed to
believe in the goal of the mission as much as her husband did.  "The
future of 70,000 people in this Fleet may very well depend on what we
can accomplish down there."
   I have five billion people in my time to be worried about, Brent
thought acidly.  But he knew he couldn't dare reveal the slightest hint
of his ultimate objective or else they might start to view him as an
enemy and have him locked up.
   "I suppose I don't have a choice," the astronaut sighed as he got to
his feet, "Very well, Colonel."


   In the Life Station, Cassiopeia was finishing her examination of
Starbuck and shook her head in amazed admiration.
   "Those siminoid doctors know a lot about medicine," she said, "I
don't think I could have done a better job on treating those numo slugs
you took."
   "Of course they know a lot about medicine," her ex-husband's tone
was filled with acid sarcasm, "They need to keep all their pets healthy
for their experiments."
   The doors slid open and they saw Apollo enter the room.
   "How's he doing?" the commander asked.
   "I certify him fit for duty, Commander," Cassiopeia said.
   "Excellent," Apollo nodded, "Because right now, Starbuck, you're
needed for a new mission."
   The grizzled captain got to his feet, "Apollo, I'm ready to atomize
those monsters from the face of the planet."
   "That isn't it, Starbuck," his friend's voice grew cold. "You're
going to be part of my delegation that will meet with their
government."
   Starbuck looked at him as though he thought Apollo had gone insane.
   "Are you out of your fracking mind?" his eyes widened.  "There's no
way that group can be negotiated with."
   "I'll be the judge of that, Starbuck," Apollo said coldly.  "Before
I decide that an entire race of living, intelligent beings needs to be
destroyed, I need to talk to them face-to-face.  And since you're the
only one who knows the layout of their city and has talked to some of
them, you have to go."
   "Apollo----"
   "I'm giving you an order, Captain!" Apollo raised his voice to it's
highest edge of command authority, "This isn't your old wingmate
talking, this is your Commander and your President.  Now you do what I
say and haul your astrum down to Alpha Bay now!"
   Starbuck shook his head in disgust, "Yes sir!" he said as he grabbed
his uniform jacket from the table and left.
   Apollo eyed the door where his old friend had walked out, "Very
touchy about the siminoids, isn't he?"
   "Very," Cassiopeia nodded, "He took the whole experience of being
imprisoned a lot more personally than I would have figured."
   Apollo shook his head sadly, "If he weren't the best viper squadron
commander we've got, I'd start dropping him some hints that he's got to
think about moving on to another line of work."
   "He wouldn't listen anyway," Starbuck's ex-wife said firmly,
"Starbuck's going to stay an active duty warrior until he's as old as
Sire Anton if he can do it."
   Apollo looked back at Cassiopeia, "Then you regard Starbuck as
beyond hope?"
   "Starbuck is what he is, Apollo," Cassiopeia said.  "If I thought he
could change, I'd still be married to him."
   He came over and placed a hand on the Chief Medical Officer's
shoulder, "Maybe you'll be proved wrong someday.  After this whole
business is over and we finally get ourselves settled."
   "Do you still think we're going to be able to settle on this
planet?" Cassiopeia smiled quizzically as she ignored his point about
Starbuck.  "Even if you succeed in handling the siminoids, how do you
then deal with the fact that the Cylon Fleet isn't too far behind us?"
   "One thing at a time, Doctor," Apollo sighed as he turned toward the
door, "One thing at a time."


   A centar later, Apollo, in full dress uniform, stood in front of the
ten man and one woman delegation that was lined up in front of the
shuttle.  Three  armed Colonial Security guards flanked both sides of
the line that included Starbuck, Brent, Sire Antipas. Siress Tinia and
Boomer.  The Electronics Chief had been asked to join the delegation
for the purpose of fully evaluating the technology of the siminoid
society.
   "You've been all asked to join this delegation because there
conceivably is one area where your own expertise will be needed,"
Apollo said firmly as he moved up and down the line.  "But make no
mistake about one thing.  Sole authority of what we do, and how we deal
with this race of animals rests entirely with me.  And if there's to be
any hope of progress whatsoever, I don't want a single one of you
questioning that authority at any time.  Have I made myself clear?"
   A few murmurings of "Yes sir," and some head nods went up from the
line.
   "At the slightest sign of a hostile move on their part, we will open
fire and retreat as fast as we can go," Apollo emphasized, "Red
Squadron will stand by overhead and will initiate a military strike if
they don't hear from us at the appropriate time.  Because while my
desire is to negotiate with them and avoid bloodshed, I will not back
down from a fight if it's clear that they won't listen."
   He stopped in front of the middle of the line and took a breath, "We
are all facing a watershed moment in the history of human civilization. 
Let us all hope that the Lords of Kobol will be with us during the next
few centars." 


   "Presidential shuttle reports all systems ready for launch."
   Sheba took a breath and then nodded, "Tell them they are cleared to
go.  Red Squadron escort will follow two centons later."
   As soon as she saw the indication that the shuttle was away from the
Galactica, the Executive Officer slowly mounted the steps to the upper
level of the bridge.  As soon as she reached it, she saw that her
daughter was already there.
   "Hi," Hera smiled, "Cassiopeia got through clearing me for duty
again.  I thought I'd drop by for some moral support."
   "Thanks," her mother smiled back, "I appreciate it Hera."
   "I probably should have volunteered for the delegation too," she
sighed wistfully as she looked out the main viewing screen. "At the
very least, I could have joined up with Athena in the search for
Boxey."
   Sheba looked at her daughter and slowly shook her head, "Not you
too," she said, "Your father isn't that much of a sadist to have me
worrying about him, you and Boxey."
   "I guess not," she admitted, "Still....sitting here makes me feel
like I did when I was a little girl and he was still flying combat
missions.  And with both him and Boxey out there now..."
   Sheba put an arm around her daughter as they both looked out the
viewing screen.
   "He'll make it," she said firmly, "He has to.  He's already promised
it.  And that goes for your brother too."


   Far away on the lead Cylon basestar, Lucifer felt the yahrens of
weariness piling up on his two brains again as he entered the throne
room.  Expecting to once again hear the same monotonous drivel he'd
been forced to listen to more times than he could ever care to
remember.
   "By your command."
   The throne turned around and the half-human, half-cyborg form of
Baltar gazed down with the same mocking smirk he always possessed. 
"Speak."
   "Your summons indicated that there was a matter of importance to
discuss."
   "Yes, there was," Baltar said, "I've decided that for a change we
should throw some panic into the Galactica and make them believe that
we are closer towards preparing a final assault against them.  Our
pattern of attack every few sectars to a yahren has perhaps reached the
point where it no longer intimidates them as it should.  Therefore, we
shall attack them again, two days after the last one."
   "But with all due respect Baltar, how does that intimidate them any
further?"
   "It forces them to move faster," Baltar sneered, "I have long
suspected that the Galactica has always known the location of the
wretched planet they've been seeking all these yahrens.  It is time we
force them to move quicker and reach their destination sooner."
   That is the first sensible thing he's said in yahrens, Lucifer
thought.  Perhaps even Baltar had begun to grow weary of the constant
inertia that had settled in over the Cylon Fleet.
   "We shall even go one step further than making our presence known,"
Baltar continued, "Have our fighters destroy one ship in the Colonial
Fleet.  It need not be a significant one.  Any ship will do."
   "I shall notify the other commanders, who I am certain will be
pleased by your decision," Lucifer said, "When shall the attack begin?"
   "Within the centar."

                    Chapter Eleven

   Boxey felt his body lock-up as he saw Taylor menacingly swing the
club back and forth, waiting for the moment to fling it at the warrior
and cause the same painful death that had earlier been inflicted on the
mutant captor named Melchior.
   But because Boxey still had control of his faculties, he could act
with more intelligent precision as he dodged the first attempt from
Taylor to strike him with the club.  Taylor swung at him again, and
again Boxey leapt into the air to avoid the blow.  On Taylor's third
attempt, the Galactica warrior went into a roll motion across the
floor, coming to a stop ten feet away.
   He looked up and saw Taylor emit a snarl and charge him at full
tilt.  Boxey realized that his best move was to roll across the floor
toward Taylor and trip him up before the astronaut was ready to bring
down the club on his skull.  He gathered all his energy and spun
himself toward the charging astronaut and just as he hoped, he crashed
right into Taylor's ankles causing the astronaut to stumble over him
and crash to the floor, dropping the club in the process.
   Boxey scrambled to his feet, grabbed the club and before Taylor
could get up, the warrior delivered a blow to the side of the neck that
instantly sent him into the blackness of unconsciousness.
   "Sorry about that," Boxey whispered as he pulled Taylor up into a
sitting position and rested him against the wall, "But I can't take you
with me right now.  I promise to get you out of here when I can."
   The warrior realized he needed to neutralize his opposition that was
directly over him in the Main Concourse of Grand Central Station.  So
long as any one of those mutants was in close enough proximity to
Taylor, they had the ability to turn him into a raging maniac that
would kill him in an instant.
   He walked several feet down the corridor and saw what looked like a
stairway shaft protruding from the wall.  It seemed to lead up.
   He tightly grasped the steel club and decided that the time had come
for Mendez and his cohorts to learn some lessons.


   After retreating from the southern approach to the remains of
Manhattan, the Galactica landram had moved back toward the western
approach where the rocky terrain was less troublesome.
   "Ten kilometers," Athena read off the scanner, "Same indication of
structures, many of them buried beneath the surface.  A few still just
above."
   "Any indication of lifeforms?" Rollins inquired.
   "Can't tell just yet," Athena said as she pushed the control stick
forward and increased the landram's speed.  "In a few more microns
though----"
   "Major, look!" Ares pointed.
   Athena suddenly brought the landram to a stop and her mouth fell
open in disbelief at the site of a raging inferno blazing across her
field of vision once again.
   "This can't be," she shook her head, "This simply can't be."
   "It's there, Major," Ares said, "And it feels just as hot as the
other one did."
   "This makes absolutely no sense," Athena kept shaking her head, "The
scanner says it isn't there.  There's no indication of volcanic
formations beneath the surface so there's no way it should be there,
period."
   "Then what can it mean?" Rollins loosened the top of his jumpsuit as
he felt the heat coming through the landram windows.
   "I think that something or someone inside that city wants to keep us
away," Athena said, "And if I'm right, I think they're playing a little
mind game on us."
   "You mean that fire is an illusion?" Rollins frowned.
   "I think that's very possible," Athena said, "And I think the time
has come to put that theory to the test."
   She placed her hand on the control stick and pushed it all the way
forward.  Abruptly, the landram jerked ahead at it's fastest possible
speed.
   "Major what are youC?" Ares shouted as he felt himself thrust
backward.
   "Taking some initiative, Lieutenant!" Athena shouted back as she
gripped her hand on the control stick and saw the wall of flame crash
against the front windows.  Ares and Rollins both felt themselves
crouching in horror with their arms thrust up, as if they thought
forlornly they could shield themselves from the flames that they were
convinced would crash through the plating of the landram in mere
seconds and burn them to death.
   But seconds later, they looked up and to their amazement saw a clear
field ahead of them.
   "WhatB?" Rollins was too dumbfounded to say anything more.
   "Just what I figured," Athena said as the memories of what Adama had
taught her came back, "An illusion.  An elaborate illusion to keep us
out.  All I had to do was concentrate my mind and disbelieve it, and it
would go away."
   "But....who could be capable of something like that?" Ares got back
into his seat.
   "That's an interesting question isn't it?" Athena smirked.  "What's
say we find out?"
   She moved the landram forward and a moment later, the outline of
buildings began to come into view.
   "Oh my God," Rollins whispered as he stepped to the front and looked
through the window.  He could see the upper third section of the Empire
State Building and the tip of the Chrysler Building sticking above
ground like half-buried behemoths in the sand.  Several miles to the
south, the upper sections of the World Trade Center were also visible. 
The rest of midtown and downtown Manhattan was completely buried from
view.  The place that had been his home.
   "Lifeform readings now showing up in large quantities," Athena kept
her voice even as she looked at the scanner, "And the indication says
they're all human and----"
   "What?" Rollins looked over.
   Athena stared at the scanner that had gone blank, "Whoever conjured
up that business with the fire is now jamming our scanner readings or
causing them to go out.  But come on, it's all an illusion, it's all an
illusion!" she raised her voice.
   An instant later, the scanner had come to back to life.
   "I think we've pinpointed their weakness right away," Athena said
with satisfaction.  "They're all concentrated within that cluster of
buildings we can see.  Let's get going."
   "But how are we going to penetrate the surface?" Ares protested.  At
the moment he was inwardly disappointed that the scanner didn't
indicate the presence of any siminoids for him to take revenge on for
Bernabe's death.
   Athena put a hand on her chin and mused, "That is a good question. 
There's no indication of any caves or shafts we could use to make our
way down.  It's clear that whoever's alive is at the former surface
level of the city."
   Rollins stared at the remains of the skyline that he knew so well
and sighed in disbelief, "There is a way.  That tall one in the
middle," he pointed at the Empire State Building.  "We can penetrate
one of the windows there and climb our way down from the inside.  It
won't be quick, but if the structure is still stable at the bedrock
level, we should be able to do it."
   Athena ran another scan check, "It's stable as a rock.  In fact
there are so many structures underneath the surface it's amazing."
   "Then that's the way to go," Rollins said as he rose, "Let's park
the landram next to her and get moving."
   "Agreed," the major nodded as she moved the vehicle toward the
beckoning top of what had once been the world's tallest building.


   "Their leader is a very perceptive individual," the fat mutant
uncharacteristically spoke aloud as the scene on the surface unfolded
before them.
   "Indeed," Albina was so impressed that she too had lapsed into the
old communication.  "It would seem that we are in very great danger."
   Mendez, who was seated on his chair with folded fingertips finally
rose to a posture of authority.
   "Perhaps the Blessed Day is at hand for us," he said, "The day of
Almighty Purification.  The day when the Almighty and Victorious shall
make the world clean again."
   "And just what does that mean?" another voice suddenly rose from
below.
   The three mutants looked down onto the Main Concourse and saw Boxey
emerge from the crumbling stairwell, holding his spiked club tightly.
   "Your people are very resourceful, Lieutenant Boxey," Mendez said
with only a trace of admiration.  "It is a pity that you retain the
contaminating instincts of barbarism."
   "You can drop all that high and mighty felgercarb, Mendez," Boxey
said with venom, "Your mind games won't work on me.  Now I don't want
to be your enemy and neither does the rest of my people.  We just want
to help."
   "Help, Lieutenant?" Mendez scoffed.  "The only help we need is
information on what the apes plan, and if they intend to move on us. 
Now it would seem that we face invasion from a race more barbarous than
the apes."
   "Barbarous?" Boxey matched his scoff, "I came to you with my hand
extended in friendship, Mendez.  I saw you and your people as brothers
that my tribe has been parted from for more than seven thousand of your
years.  And in return, you tortured me, you threw me into a cell and
you attempted to use poor Colonel Taylor to try and murder me."
   "You speak falsehoods, Lieutenant," this from Albina, "Our ways are
the peaceful preservation of the noblest form of life that has ever
existed.  The life that receives the eternal protection and blessing of
the Bomb Everlasting."
   "What protection does a weapon capable of destroying the entire
planet offer?" Boxey stepped toward the balcony.  "You can't use it
without making this planet and your entire population cease to exist. 
How is that protection?"
   "You simply do not understand, Lieutenant," the fat man said, "The
Bomb Everlasting is a warning to all that would seek to contaminate us
and our people that any attempt to destroy our way of life means that
the price of Purification must be paid."
   "Purification in the form of global destruction," Boxey could not
believe how utterly sick and demented these descendants of humanity
were.  "You people are mad!"
   "Are you so noble, Lieutenant?" Mendez retorted, "It is you who has
blood on your hands in the form of our brother Melchior.  We have never
killed and we never shall."
   "Yet you'd destroy the Earth!"
   "The Holy Purification is an act of the Almighty, not of ourselves,"
Mendez said, "We shall not stand in the way of our god's direction if
he so ordains it.  And the arrival of your race, with its steadfast
determination to contaminate our people through invasion can leave no
doubt that he has ordained it."
   "What do you know of God?" Boxey spat, as his inner revulsion over
their religious perversions made him want to throw up, "Where I come
from Mendez, God is a person not a piece of metal.  God is a being of
compassion and justice.  His Will is not to destroy!"
   "You hold to some peculiar beliefs, Lieutenant," the fat man said,
"And the more you and your kind threaten to contaminate our society
with such beliefs, the more it becomes clear that the day of
Purification is indeed at hand."
   "And just how do you plan to carry out this Purification?"
   "His will shall be done, Lieutenant," an edge of forcefulness
returned to Mendez's voice, "And the mere fact that you are immune from
our power shall make no difference in the end."  he suddenly pulled out
what looked like a unicom device to Boxey, "This is Mendez XXVI.  The
Almighty decrees our presence in the Holy Temple for the day of
Purification is now at hand!  I say to you all, the day of Purification
is now at hand!"
   From somewhere deep inside the walls surrounding the Concourse on
all sides, Boxey could hear the faint sounds of moaning go up.  It
seemed to intensify with each passing micron.
   In an instant, Boxey realized that the population of this mutant
colony was coming out of their living spaces deep inside and converging
on St. Patrick's Cathedral where the Alpha-Omega Bomb resided.  The
preparation for the ceremony that would end the world had now begun.
   "You're not going to get away with this, Mendez," Boxey hissed, "As
long as I have a breath of life inside me, you won't get away with
this."
   "You can not thwart the will of God," Mendez's tone grew grave and
haunting, "That is one thing our people will never permit."
   Suddenly the door at the other end of the Concourse that led out to
Madison Avenue burst open and Boxey saw a column of literally dozens of
white robed mutants enter.  All of them with expressions of cold,
unremitting hatred on the masks that covered their true appearance
underneath as they continued to let out that sickening moan.
   Not everyone it seemed, had been headed for the Cathedral.
   "You will not be killed, Lieutenant," Mendez said, "But you will be
rendered quite ineffective by the onslaught of our people."
   The numbers of hate-filled mutants continued to pour in through the
Madison Avenue entrance and began filing down the stairs to the
Concourse.  Boxey felt his mouth drop open in horror as he ran back
toward the crumbling stairway that led to the lower levels.  The power
of a hundred mutants exercising illusory control over him was something
he didn't even begin to think he could fight off.
   He heard the hate-filled moan grow louder in his ears as he reached
the lower levels.  To one side, he could see Taylor still lying
unconscious against the wall.
   He's no good to me, Boxey thought.  He's susceptible to their power
unless IC
   Abruptly, Boxey snapped his fingers as a new idea popped into his
head.  It was a longshot idea at best, but it was the only one he had
at the moment.
   But in order for it to work, he needed to find a specific location
that he had no conception of where to look.
   Dear Lord, he prayed, show me the way.  Please show me the way.
   He heard the sounds of footsteps coming from behind him and it
instantly spurred him to run off in the other direction down the dark
and foreboding corridor.


   The sun's last rays had settled to the west and night had fallen
over the desert landscape just as the landram came to a stop beside the
Empire State Building's upper-third.
   "I wouldn't advise trying this at night, Major," Rollins cautioned,
"Not unless you've got some major lighting equipment."
   "Since we're going to be cut off from the outside light once we get
inside there, that really makes no difference, Colonel," Athena said,
"We might as well get started.  Ares, break out all the illuminators
and oxygen masks we have and load the extras into a spare pack.  Also
have as many spare laser pistols readied as well.  Whoever's down there
isn't likely to be welcoming us with open arms."
   Ares nodded and went back to the storage compartment of the vehicle.
   "I'm going to leave our beacon active in case the Galactica sends in
some new teams," Athena said as she flicked a yellow switch on the
control panel.  "And also a little message for them so they'll know
where we are."  She picked up a microphone and flicked another switch. 
"This is Major Athena.  We have picked up indications of human life
somewhere beneath the surface within the remains of the city that once
stood here.  We have decided to reach the city below from the inside of
this building that still partially rests above the surface.  I strongly
suspect that the presence below is hostile in their intentions.  They
have the capacity to block scans and to set up barriers of fire through
mind power.  But it is all illusory.  Do not be deceived by any of
those dangers.  It is and should be safe to proceed.  Only when the
enemy is faced, may their real power become clear."
   She flicked the recorder switch off and stood up.
   "What do you suppose their real power is, Major?" Rollins grimly
inquired as he took the laser pistol belt offered by Ares.
   "I'm not about to speculate, Colonel," Athena said, "But I suspect
that we need to know the answer if we also want to answer all of the
questions about Earth that face us."
   Indeed, Rollins thought to himself.  Especially the question about
how the Earth had come to be like this, and what could be done to
change all that once he, Brent and hopefully Taylor returned to the
20th Century.
   But no point dwelling on that....yet.
   "Let's get going," Athena said as the door opened and the three
warriors walked across the rocky surface toward the scarred remains of
the skyscraper's upper section.  A number of windows were broken out
and empty indicating an unobstructed way of getting in from the current
surface level.
   Rollins was the first to climb in through one of the openings and
once he was inside, he shined his light across the darkened room he had
entered.  He could see several lumps of overturned debris that he
suspected was once office furniture.  Acres of fragile paper debris
lined the floors, which to his relief were still solid and stable after
more than two thousand years.
   They really built this baby to last, he thought with a faint trace
of admiration.
   His illuminator shined on some of the paper debris and he caught
sight of the remains of a wall calendar that had tumbled down to the
floor.  In bold letters he could see the last month it had been opened
to.  January 1998.
   Already my first question's been answered, he thought.  We have
twenty two years to change things when we get back.
   A crumbling doorway lay at the end of the room.  The instant he
touched it, the frame collapsed to the floor completely.
   "It's okay," he motioned back to Athena and Ares, "We can keep
moving.  There has to be a stairway nearby."
   The two warriors gingerly took their steps as they began the journey
inside the skyscraper that would take them down to the remains of the
city that held terrible secrets they needed to learn the answers to.


   The footsteps and the snarling seemed to grow louder in Boxey's ears
as he continued to run as fast as he possibly could down the darkened
corridor.  So fast did he run that he scarcely had time to note the
elaborately designed pictures that dotted some of the walls, along with
some other various symbols that meant nothing to him.
   For more than ten centons, he ran what seemed like several
kilometers to him, but still the terrifying noise did not cease.  Then,
in the corner of his eye he caught sight of what looked like a door. 
Different from the doors with the circular valves he had passed
earlier.  This one had an old-style hinge and knob assembly.
Impulsively, he grabbed it and to his amazement felt it open.  Without
taking time to see where it was he was entering, he stepped inside and
frantically shut the door behind him.
   The weight of the physical exertion he had just put himself through
finally caught up with him and he almost collapsed to the floor as he
took several gasps to regain his breath.  Pressing his ear to the door
he could still hear the footsteps and the hideous moaning and snarling. 
For now, he could only hope that this mob of mutants wouldn't look in
here.  But if they did, he was prepared to slaughter every last one of
them with his club if he could hold off against their combined mental
assault.
   He backed away from the door and felt his body hit a table.  In an
instant he spun around and had his first clear look at where he was. 
He had stumbled into some kind of laboratory.  Various scientific
instruments lined the table along with what looked like very old books. 
At the far end of the room was a chart that Boxey recognized as the
Periodic Table of Elements.
   Boxey frowned and wondered why a lab that seemed to be of some kind
of importance was deserted for now.  Then, his eyes caught sight on the
far left side of the room what looked like a hole leading to a tubular
shaft.  He made his way over and peered up.  A ladder led more than one
hundred feet up to an opening where the red glow that had guided him in
to St. Patrick's Cathedral was casting it's ungodly aura.
   I was wrong, Boxey thought.  This place has just been vacated in the
last few centons.  When Mendez made his announcement, they all left to
gather....
   Suddenly, Boxey slapped his hand against his forehead as another
thought entered his mind.  He shut his eyes for a moment, and then the
dim noise of the snarling, the moaning and the footsteps from outside
ceased.  Feeling angry with himself, he went back to the door and swung
it open.  There was nothing as far as the eye could see in every
direction.
   "Frack!" he shouted, "You gallmonging scum, you tricked me!"
   The mutants had tried a new illusory tactic on him and had succeeded
brilliantly.  They had conjured an illusion he'd had no reason to
doubt.  An illusion of a charging mob of mutants bearing down on him. 
And all the time, the purpose was to get him to run as far away as he
possibly could.  Far away from the Cathedral, where the Alpha-Omega
bomb lay.  Where the mutants had begun their preparations for an event
that would mean the end of all life on the planet Earth.
   "Frack, felgercarb and shit!" he kicked the wall.
   He heard a stirring noise emanate from behind him.  He spun around
with his club raised, prepared to strike down the slightest thing in
the room that moved but he saw nothing.
   "Who's there?" he shouted, "Show yourself!"
   A second went by and he heard the stirring noise again.  It seemed
to come from somewhere to his right.  Boxey strained his eyes in the
darkened room and saw another door that he hadn't noticed earlier.  It
too had a traditional knob and hinge assembly.  With trepidation, he
turned the knob and then kicked the door open as hard as it could go.
   He jumped into the entryway with his club poised at the ready and
then lowered it when he saw what lay in front of him.  On an elevated
bed, strapped down at the arms and legs, a woman with long dark-brown
hair that fell to her waist, dressed in the skimpy garments of the
primitive humans from above lay trembling in obvious fear at the sight
of Boxey and was thrashing about in an unsuccessful attempt to free
herself.
   Boxey took one step toward her and saw that her stomach was visibly
bloated from what was clearly an advanced state of pregnancy.  In an
instant, he realized that his earlier prayer had been answered.  He had
found Taylor's woman.
   He came beside her bed and saw her brown eyes filled with terror and
fear at the sight of him.  He was certain she wanted to scream if she
only possessed the capability.
   "Don't worry," he said softly and gently, "Don't worry, I'm not
going to hurt you.  I'm not going to hurt you."
   She continued to tremble with fear and tried to squirm herself away
from him.  Boxey felt his mind racing as he tried to recall everything
Taylor had told him about her during their time in the cell.
   "No-va," he heavily accented the syllables of her name.  "No-va. 
Listen to me, No-va.  I am a friend of Taylor.  Tay-lor.  You remember
Tay-lor?"
   The instant he spoke her name and then Taylor's, Nova stopped
trembling and her expression took on a cautious air.
   Boxey grabbed the leather strap across the upper part of her body
and using one of the steel points on the club managed to cut through
it.  When it finally broke, he gently took Nova by the hand and managed
to pull her free from the other strap binding her across the legs.  As
soon as she was free, Nova dropped to a standing position and eyed him
with the cautious suspicion of a young animal that didn't know if she
was about to be trapped by a predator.
   "Don't worry Nova," he decided not to frighten her by touching her.
"Don't worry.  You're free now.  Free.  I'm going to take you to
Tay-lor."
   When he said Taylor's name again, she visibly stiffened into a
posture that struck some kind of faint recognition in Boxey.  It took
him a half-centon to realize what it reminded him of.  The posture
Muffit would assume when he would tell his daggit that he was going to
take him down to the Rejuvenation Center to play.
   Any sadness he might have felt over how her instincts were more that
of an animal than a human were overcome by the realization that he'd
gained her trust and that she'd follow him.
   "Come on Nova," he said in the same gentle tone, "Follow me. I'll
take you to Taylor.  To Taylor."
   He moved toward the door and when he stopped to look back saw that
she'd not hesitated in following him.  He smiled at her and then took
her by the hand.  She didn't pull away as he led her out the door,
through the laboratory and back out into the corridor.
   Boxey now knew he had to get back to Taylor, who he hoped was still
out cold several kilometers away.  And then, they would have to devote
all their energies toward stopping the unholy ceremony that he knew was
on the verge of starting in St. Patrick's Cathedral from reaching it's
deadly benediction.
   Dear God, he looked up.  Answer this prayer too.  Please don't let
me fail.


   "Here it is," Rollins shined his illuminator on the open doorway. 
"This is a central staircase that should take us down to street level."
   "How far down?" Athena inquired as she and Ares followed him in.
   Rollins looked back into the corridor, "We're on the seventy-third
floor.  That means we've got a nine hundred foot trip straight down."
   "But no telling how long we'll get held up by any debris that might
be blocking the shaft somewhere down there," Ares grunted.
   Athena consulted her micro-scanner.  "I'm getting indications that
the air inside this shaft is stagnant and toxic.  Let's get those
oxygen masks on now."
   Ares pulled out three from his pack and handed one to Rollins and
Athena.  As soon as the astronaut had strapped his on and felt the
clean sensation of the oxygen flow inside his nostrils, he asked, "How
long are these good for?"
   "A full centar, or one of your hours," Athena said as she made the
adjustment on hers that activated it.  "And with two extras for each of
us in reserve that means we have exactly three hours to get the hell
out of this building.  We already know the air's breathable at street
level or else there'd be no lifesigns to have registered on our
scanners."
   "Think we'll make it?" Ares grunted.
   "We won't if we don't get started," Athena said as she motioned
toward Rollins, "Lead the way, Colonel."
   The astronaut nodded and gingerly took his first steps down the
first flight of stairs.  The long journey down had begun.


   Dr. Zaius was fast in the throes of sleep when he heard a heavy
pounding on the thick, wooden door of his house.  He lay in his bed for
a long moment staring in the dark in disbelief at the door as the heavy
pounding increased.
   "Who is it?" he finally shouted with all the annoyance he was
capable of summoning.
   "It's me, Dr. Zaius," he heard the unmistakable sneer of General
Ursus, "I have no intention of leaving so you might as well let me in
now."
   Zaius let out an angry grunt as he hoisted himself out of bed,
grabbed his cane and hobbled over to the door.  When he opened it, he
saw to his amazement that Ursus was in full battle dress, and that a
team of gorilla riders were already in placed along the main street.
   "There has been a tactical change in plans, Dr. Zaius," Ursus said
defiantly.  "The new assault on the Forbidden Zone begins now."
   The Chief Scientist glared at him, "Our orders were to wait until
morning, General!"
   "This is already morning, if I'm not mistaken, Doctor," the general
wrinkled his muzzle in a smug grin, "Just because the sun hasn't made
it's presence felt yet and won't for another several hours is no reason
why we should delay the inevitable."
   "General Ursus----"
   "If you wish to retain strategic command of this expedition, Doctor,
then you'd better get dressed and get on your horse in the next five
minutes or else we'll be forced to leave without you."
   "You can't do this!"
   "If I understood correctly, Dr. Zaius, the President's order was
that all tactical decisions were to remain with me," a note of
sarcastic triumph entered the gorilla general's voice.  "And the
decision as to when we leave is purely a tactical one, as I'm sure even
you would concede."
   The Chief Scientist realized he'd been out thought on that point. 
"Why now?" he tried a different track.
   "Because each passing hour that we fail to move on that hostile
human force is another hour that gives them time to plot our
destruction.  We must move now and prevent that, and my troops are more
than anxious for a second chance at them!"
   "So I see," Zaius looked over in disgust at the columns of gorilla
riders holding torch lights, and waiting for the moment to move out of
Ape City.  "Your troops evidently do not believe in a decent night's
sleep before battle, General?" he inquired sourly.
   "What is one night of sleep when we are needed to see to it that we
all sleep decently in the future?" he retorted with a poor attempt at
mimicking a philosopher's tone.
   Zaius rubbed at his eyes and decided it was pointless pulling rank
on the gorilla general at this point.  "Very well, General," he said,
"Give me five minutes to dress and I will be ready.  But I remind you
that the overall strategic command of this operation lies with me and
if you so much as try to usurp that, I will see to it that you hang for
treason."
   Ursus said nothing as he smiled thinly and moved back out to remount
his horse.  The elderly orangutan shook his head in disgust as he went
back inside his living room and wearily grabbed his orange, leather
tunic.  Irregardless of what happened, he knew this was going to be the
longest day of his life.


   "Presidential shuttle, this is Red Leader," Captain Cree's voice
filled the interior of the shuttle, "We are now approaching the orbital
path of the last of the outer planets.  ETA to Earth now at two centars
from now."
   "Okay Cree," Starbuck said as he held the control stick, "Just be
careful weaving your way through the asteroid field before the inner
planets begin.  It can be a little tricky."
   "Starbuck, you're talking to the guy who learned the meaning of
being careful the hard way," Cree quipped, "Signing off for now."
   The grizzled warrior allowed himself his first chuckle in a long
time as he took note of Cree's reference to an incident many yahrens
ago on an ice planet called Arcta.  As soon as it passed though, the
simmering anger and resentment he felt toward Apollo's decision to
negotiate with the siminoids reasserted itself.
   Nothing I can do about it though, he had to admit reluctantly. 
Apollo's the one calling the shots.  We all have to do as he says.
   He shot a quick glance behind him where Apollo sat in the front row
of passenger seats with Tinia and Antipas flanking him on each side. 
The Commander was wearing his full dress uniform and cape, with his
ceremonial medallion of the Lords Of Kobol hanging around his neck. 
With his arms folded and his expression piercing, Apollo looked more
like a younger version of his father than at any other time Starbuck
could recall.
   Who knows, Starbuck found himself musing.  Maybe he is right.  Isn't
that the reason why I always said Apollo was my real conscience?
   As Starbuck continued to ponder his inner dilemma, at the other end
of the shuttle, Brent was starting up a conversation with another
member of the delegation.
   "So the viper and the shuttle are the two standard forms of
transport within your fleet," the astronaut was saying.
   "That's right," Boomer nodded, "We have a few transport shuttles
that are a bit larger than this model for passenger transport between
the various ships of the Fleet but no other major classes of ship."
   "And the 200 ships of your Fleet are all different varieties?"
   "For the most part," the ex-warrior turned Electronics Chief said,
"A vast cross section of ships that were capable of leaving our home
planets when our journey began."
   "Are any of them capable of light speed?"
   "A lot of them weren't designed for that but we've adapted them to
it.  The only problem is that light speed isn't fast enough any longer. 
It never has with all the problems we've had trying to outrun the Cylon
Empire."
   "Meaning that the Galactica, your vipers and your shuttles are the
only ships capable of faster than light travel."
   "That's about the size of it."
   Brent shook his head in amazement, "Where I come from, traveling at
light speed was a new breakthrough in technology.  Going faster than
light was something straight out of science fiction stories."
   "The principle's not too difficult," Boomer said, "Building the
ships that can do it and adapting others is the main challenge.  At
least in a society where you're constantly on the move in space and
have limited time and resources."
   "It's fascinating," Brent said, "I think you and I should have some
more conversations about this when we get back to the Galactica."
   "I'll be glad to oblige, Major.  I have some more questions about
that baby you traveled to this time in."
   "Hell, if there's time later I might ask the Commander to take us to
the wreckage."
   "You sure it's beyond salvage?" Boomer inquired.
   Brent lifted an eyebrow as soon as he heard Boomer's question and
then had to keep himself from pounding his fist against his forehead. 
Of course, he thought.  If these people are an advanced technology then
why couldn't they fix the Magellan?
   "I'm not sure," Brent chose his words carefully, "It's beyond
salvage from my standpoint but I think an expert like you should be the
final judge." 
   "I'll be glad to give it a look-see if we can get there," Boomer
said.  "My team could use a new challenge anyway." 
   Maybe this won't be as difficult as I figured, Brent tried not to
smile as he leaned back in his chair and idly noticed the blue-green
giant that was Neptune shining out his window.  Maybe we can get back
according to the original plan after all.
   As Brent continued to ponder all the alternatives he could think of
for getting back to the 20th Century, up front, Apollo was pondering
all the alternate scenarios facing the Fleet irrespective of whether or
not this current mission succeeded or failed.
   There has to be a reason for all this, he thought.  Why would the
Guardians have directed us here if they didn't think we could do
something about what's happened to Earth?
   "I'm curious about something, Apollo," Antipas leaned next to him,
"If this mission fails, do you really think Earth is still worth
settling on?"
   Apollo stared at his Council rival and wondered if Antipas had been
reading his mind.
   "Earth is our destiny, Sire Antipas," he said, "Primitive or
advanced, we have an obligation to help our brothers down there and
make use of the planet as a home for our people."
   "You'll forgive me if I'm not so easily convinced," the Councilman's
tone grew sour, "In your father's day, I was always skeptical of the
need to place all our trust in one particular planet as our final
destination.  There were so many other habitable worlds along the way
that could have easily served our purpose."
   "None of them would have been secure from the Cylon pursuit, Sire
Antipas."
   "And Earth is?" Antipas retorted.  "Only yesterday the Cylons
reminded us that they're still not far behind us.  If this is your idea
of a secure place to settle our people on, Apollo----"
   "You are neglecting the cultural tie, Antipas," Siress Tinia
interrupted with a frosty air.
   "We had more in common with the people of Terra than we do with this
civilization of primitive mutes, Tinia."
   "This isn't a debating forum, Antipas," Apollo icily cut in, "You
can save your objections on that point for the next Council session."
   "Very well, Apollo," Antipas said, "But I don't intend to raise them
quietly."
   Another headache has to loom on the horizon, Apollo felt like
rolling his eyes.  If it hadn't been for the example his father had set
for him over the first twenty yahrens of their journey across the
stars, he wondered if he would have already cracked from the pressure
by this point.
   As the shuttle and viper squadron passed the rings of Saturn, it
never would have occurred to Apollo or any of the passengers that Earth
was in danger of not being there any longer by the time they arrived.
  

   Boxey wished he could have sprinted his way back through the
darkened corridors to where he'd left Taylor's unconscious form, but
Nova's pregnant condition and her long period of immobility in the
laboratory left her unable to do more than stumble at a slow pace. 
Twice, the primitive female seemed on the verge of collapsing and made
Boxey fearful that she was going to give birth right then and there.
   "Come on Nova," he whispered gently as he kept hold of her hand,
"Come on, we've got to move faster."
   At the moment he was facing the gravest race against time he could
ever imagine.  The total absence of any mutant presence in these levels
indicated that the convergence on St. Patrick's Cathedral had to be
near-complete.  All that remained now was how long the rituals of their
ungodly ceremony would last before it culminated with the
"purification" in the form of the Alpha-Omega bomb.
   He had guided her through more than a half-kilometer of twists and
turns inside the corridor, passing the doors with the circular valves,
some of which he now noticed were flung wide-open.  He briefly peered
inside and saw what looked like empty living quarters.  Some simple,
nondescript bunk-style beds were the only furniture, while from each
back wall hung a crudely designed piece of sculpture that Boxey
recognized as the Bomb.  Each mutant it seemed, was required to keep a
sculpture of it as a religious icon.
   The gallmonging lunatics, he thought with disgust as they moved on. 
Slowly, down the corridor he guided her by the hand, hoping that it
wouldn't be long before the sight of Taylor's unconscious body and the
crumbling stairwell leading back up to the Concourse came into view. 
Eons seemed to pass as he continued to carefully guide Nova around each
corner and down the hallway.
   From somewhere off in the distance, he almost thought he could hear
the sound of unmelodic music and an unpleasant chanting noise.  He knew
right away that it meant that the mutants had all arrived in the
Cathedral and the ceremony had started.  And it meant that the race
against time to save what was left of the Earth had now begun.


   "How far have we gone?" Ares was wheezing heavily as he leaned
against the rusted metal railing of the staircase shaft.
   "Seventy floors," Rollins stopped to remove his mask and take a swig
of water from the container Athena had given him.  "It won't be much
longer.  We just have three more to go."
   "And we've done it in just a centar and a half," Athena noted as she
pressed the illuminator of her chronometer.  "It looks like we won't
have to worry about using up our air."
   "Especially since we need some to get back out of here," Ares noted.
   The major shined her illuminator down the shaft and her face
contorted in disgust.  "Frack, we've got trouble."
   "How so?" Ares asked.
   "There's debris jammed in two levels down.  There's no way we can
penetrate that."
   "Let's see," Rollins peered over and grimly nodded, "Yeah, you're
right.  Looks like some metal cabinets, desks, bookshelves and all
kinds of office equipment crap.  Could you use those fancy lasers of
yours to cut through them?"
   "Not unless you want me to risk causing the rest of the shaft below
to collapse.  I don't think it could stand the strain."
   "I disagree Major," Rollins said, "We've gone down all these flights
and this building is still as solid as a rock.  I think the lower
levels are in just as good shape."
   Athena gave him an impatient glance, "Assuming you're right Colonel,
I'd still end up using all the firepower in my laser pistol to get that
stuff to budge and we'd probably waste a lot more ammunition than I
care to."
   Rollins glanced at her laser pistol pack, "You mean those guns of
yours don't cause solid objects to vaporize?"
   "No," Athena frowned, "What kind of weapons did you think they
were?"
   Rollins shook his head in embarrassment, "Nothing.  Something I saw
on a television program once."
   "A what?"
   "It's nothing," the Air Force colonel waved his hand and vowed never
to watch another episode of Star Trek again after he got back.  "Okay,
if we don't make our way through the debris, then I guess we have to
climb our way out."
   "Climb our way out?" Ares's eyebrows went up.
   "Yeah," Rollins nodded.  "We're close enough to street level to risk
it if you've got tools that can let us scale the outside of the
building about....oh, about thirty feet."
   "That we have," Athena took off her pack and removed a coiled rope,
"Each of you has a harness in your pack.  All we have to do is secure
this rope to something, toss it out one of the windows and ride it
down.  I'd thought we were going to need it for one of those mountain
peaks on the surface, but I guess they'll do here."
   "Looks that way," Rollins smiled mirthlessly as he opened the door
that led to the third floor hallway, "Okay, let's get moving."


   Slowly, Taylor felt the sensation of his head pounding in waves of
pain coarsing through his entire body.  But with that pain came the
realization that he was returning to consciousness.
   "Ohhh..." he put a hand to his forehead and rubbed it steadily
before he opened his eyes.  At this point, he wasn't sure of anything
anymore.  Would he open his eyes and discover Boxey's broken, bloody
form lying next to him?  The result of this latest blackout he knew the
mutants had inflicted on him?
   The thought alone seemed too terrifying for him to grasp at the
moment so he kept his eyes shut and instead started rubbing his ears to
try and eliminate an unpleasant buzzing noise that seemed to fill them.
It took Taylor a minute to realize that the unpleasant noise wasn't
inside his ears.  It was coming from somewhere else.
   He finally opened his eyes and to his relief saw that he was alone. 
That meant he hadn't killed Boxey and the space traveler had to have
gone off without him.  Maybe he'd found his way out of New York and
contacted his people.
   The astronaut got to his feet and tried to figure out what the
meaning of the sound was.  It was by far the most unpleasant cacophony
he'd ever heard in his life.
   As he stood and tried to let his mind clear and concentrate, another
sound filled his ears.
   "Tay-lor!"
   Taylor spun round and his eyes widened in shock when he saw dashing
toward him, the only person who'd been at the center of his thoughts
for months.  The only woman he had ever loved.  Nova.
   As she ran toward him, he instantly noticed right away that she was
still pregnant.  And then...his mind suddenly clicked as he realized
that she had actually spoken.  Her first instinct upon seeing him,
after all these long months of separation, was to reach deep inside
herself for the tool of speech that had been lost to her people for
centuries....And she had spoken his name.
   When Nova reached him and collapsed into his arms, burying her face
in his shoulder, Taylor was so stunned that he didn't even notice an
equally astonished Boxey arrive a minute later.
   "Nova," he whispered as he held her close to him, feeling a sense of
both relief and joy that she was still alive and safe. "Oh Nova, thank
God."
   She looked up at him with the wide-eyed adoration of a child and
smiled, "Tay-lor," she repeated.  It was clearly a forced effort on her
part to articulate the one word he had drilled into her mind over and
over again during their captivity by the Apes, and then during their
journey into the Forbidden Zone.  But at long last, his effort had paid
off.
   "Colonel Taylor?"
   Taylor clasped Nova to him again and kissed her twice, oblivious to
the sound of Boxey's voice.
   "Colonel Taylor?" an impatient edge entered the Galactica warrior's
voice.
   Finally, the astronaut looked over at Boxey and sighed in relief,
"Oh, Lieutenant.  Thank God, you found her."
   "Yes I did," his voice grew more blunt, "And I'm afraid there's no
time to have a tender reunion just yet.  If we don't move fast, those
lunatics are going to set off the Bomb."
   Taylor abruptly released Nova and looked at Boxey in shock. 
"They're what?" he barely forced his words out.
   "They're going to set the fracking thing off," Boxey said, feeling
more angry than panicked.
   "In the name of God, why?" Taylor was thunderstruck.  He had come to
recognize the mutants as insane, but this exceeded anything he believed
them capable of.
   "That's exactly it," Boxey mirthlessly smirked, "In the name of
their God, they plan to unleash Purification because they just realized
that their days of shelter from the outside world are numbered.  I
didn't get a chance to hear all of the conversation, but I suspect that
some search teams from the Galactica have landed on the surface to look
for me and my friends, and sooner or later, that search must inevitably
lead to here."
   "Threatening their purified order," Taylor shook his head, "All this
time, I thought they kept me alive because they wanted knowledge of
some technologies or something else their society had forgotten.  Now
it's clear they only wanted me to tell them if the Apes knew all about
their civilization."
   "Lucky for you, you didn't tell them that the siminoids don't know,"
Boxey said, "Because then, they might have pulled a stunt to have Nova
kill you."
   Taylor protectively wrapped an arm around her, "Dear God," he kissed
her again, "To think that I have her back at last, and hearing her
actually talk."
   "I know," Boxey nodded, "Surprised the hell out of me when she
spotted you and started running towards you calling your name.  I
didn't realize she had it in her.  But at least I know one thing now,
Colonel.  Nova and her people up top are capable of regaining their
intelligence if we help them out.  And that makes putting a stop to
what those loonies are doing now all the more imperative."
   "They must be in the Cathedral," Taylor looked up the stairwell. 
"God, that awful noise, that's them starting their ceremony!"
   "Agreed.  Would it be quicker to get back to the Cathedral by the
tunnels, or by the front entrance on the street?"
   "The tunnels would be guarded."
   "Not necessarily.  If my hunch is right, their entire population is
inside there taking part in the final ceremony."
   Taylor felt his shoulders sag in despair, "Well then how the hell
can we stop the ceremony when that means more than three or four
thousand people at least?"
   "The first thing is getting there and assessing the situation,"
Boxey said and then shook his head in disgust, "If I only still had my
laser pistol, I might have been able to shoot out their controls for
whatever it is they use to detonate the bomb.  If I only knew where
they took it!"
   "Like you said, there's no time to figure that out," Taylor said as
he looked up, "Just to be on the safe side, let's approach from ground
level.  If we stay in the tunnels, we might run the risk of seeing some
not-so-accidental cave-in take place."
   "Okay Colonel, let's get going."
   Taylor took Nova by the hand and the three of them went up the
stairs that led back to the Grand Central Station Concourse.


   When Rollins looked out the window at the thirty foot drop to street
level that he and the Galactica warriors needed to confront, he almost
felt a vertigo attack come over him.  Heights never bothered him when
he was inside, or even outside on a roof with a protective ledge.  But
all he could think of was the frightening scene in the Hitchcock movie
at the Statue Of Liberty to be reminded of how even a thirty foot fall
could be fatal.
   At least, thank God, we didn't have to do this from the fortieth
floor.
   "Will this be a secure enough base for the rope?" Athena pointed to
an old-fashioned 1930s style radiator mounted beneath the window.  An
everlasting reminder of when the great skyscraper had been built during
the height of the Great Depression.
   Rollins nodded, "It should be."
   "Okay Ares, get it secure and then we'll harness ourselves for the
trip down."
   As the security guard tended to the rope, Athena poked her head out
the window and looked about at the buildings lining 34th Street.  She
then pointed her portable scanner in various directions, waiting for it
to let out the pinging sounds that would indicate human contacts.  It
only took a second for the click to turn into a ping.
   "Got it," Athena smiled with satisfaction and reattached her scanner
to her belt.  "The human contacts are approximately one mile to the
north of us, maybe less."
   Rollins squinted in the direction Athena indicated.  Not quite all
the way to Central Park, if that indication was correct.  Maybe
somewhere on Fifth Avenue.
   Kind of figures that whoever's left here would settle in the
high-rent district, he indulged himself in some more black humor and
wished for a moment that Brent was still there so there'd be someone he
could say it aloud to.  He idly wondered how his fellow astronaut was
faring out in space again aboard the giant ship called the Galactica. 
If anything, he at least hoped that Brent had some ideas on how they
were going to get back to their own time.
   Ares finished securing the rope to the radiator, and then tossed it
out the window.  The line's downward flight ended three feet above the
street when it straightened itself out and dangled back against the
side of the building.
   "Okay," Athena said as she clipped her harness to the rope, "To be
on the safe side, let's go one at a time.  Colonel, you follow me as
soon as I'm on the ground.  Ares, you bring up the rear."
   The two men nodded as the black-haired major grabbed hold of the
rope and swung one leg out the window.  Ten seconds later, she was
slowly descending with the controlled precision of a skilled climber. 
Putting into effect all the lessons she'd been teaching young warrior
recruits for the last five yahrens since she'd transferred to the
Warrior Training School after Apollo had bypassed her for executive
officer.
   As she continued to descend, she thought for the first time since
she'd left the Galactica about Amos.  Her steady boyfriend and lover
who was captain of the ship the Warrior Training School was located on. 
For four yahrens, they'd shared the most satisfying relationship Athena
had ever known with any man.  She found Amos to be kind, gentle,
sensitive and attentive to her moods and interests.  It was a
relationship that had made her purge twenty yahrens of lingering
bitterness in her heart over her break-up with Starbuck.
   At least she always saw it that way.  Of late, she wondered if her
reluctance to take the hints that Amos had dropped to her in the last
yahren about getting sealed was the last trace of that old bitterness
about Starbuck inside her.  A lingering reluctance to take the final
step with another man that she had wanted to take so long ago with
Starbuck.  And which she'd lost the opportunity for when she'd been
emotionally unable to accept his offer after the Holocaust, when he'd
confronted her in her locker.  She had always hated Starbuck for never
giving her more time to recover from the trauma of losing her mother
Ila and her brother Zac, because she had always been convinced in her
heart that if Starbuck had waited another sectar, perhaps even another
sectan, she would have come round.  But instead he had taken her
rejection as the end of things and had soon found another woman named
Cassiopeia who eventually became his wife.
   The rejection had left a deep scar on Athena.  She knew it was the
reason why she'd retreated into a shell for so many yahrens and never
attempted another relationship with a man.  Not until she was finally
away from the Galactica, and starting afresh in her new role aboard the
Warrior Training Ship.  Where there was no one around who knew about
her past experience with Starbuck.  Indeed, the reason why she'd been
receptive to Amos's advances when he'd first invited her out on a date
to the Rising Star for dinner in the Main Dining Hall was because she
knew she didn't have to worry about explaining things to any old
friends or family on the Galactica.  In her new surroundings, it was
like starting from a clean slate
   Not clean enough though, she thought as she finished her descent and
her feet touched the cracked pavement of the sidewalk.  Maybe there was
one fraction of a percent left in her that avoided the thought of
marrying Amos because that fraction of her always believed that
Starbuck, her first love, was the only man she ever wanted to be sealed
to.  And maybe that fraction was lingering too long because of the fact
that Starbuck was now divorced and technically available again.
   No wonder I've been trying to get Cassie to think about reconciling
with him, she thought.
   "Okay, Colonel Rollins.  It's your turn now."
   As she watched the American astronaut sling one leg out the window
and begin his descent down the rope at a much slower pace, she found
herself coming to the most important decision of her life.  The next
time Amos dropped her a hint about getting sealed, she was going to
grab it.  This mission alone was enough to tell her that time was
fleeting for everyone.
   It took Rollins nearly ten minutes to make the thirty foot descent
down the rope.  Twice, the Air Force colonel found himself shutting his
eyes to avoid an attack of acrophobia from coming over him.  He also
felt the urge to pick at his ears because he was convinced he could
hear the faint sound of an unpleasant ringing inside them.
   When Rollins finally reached the sidewalk and let go of the rope, he
immediately glanced up and down 34th Street, trying to look for old,
familiar sights.  Toward Broadway, the giant placard on the side of a
building proclaiming: MACY'S.  THE WORLD'S LARGEST DEPARTMENT STORE was
torn and faded, with only half of the familiar slogan still visible. 
He glanced across the street trying to find one of the other familiar
department stores, Orbachs, but saw instead a storefront of a company
he'd never heard of before in the location it should have been in.
   Looks like Orbachs had time to go out of business before the rest of
New York and the world did, he thought with black hearted mirth.
   As Rollins continued to glance up and down the street, Athena guided
Ares down the rope.  The security guard only needed three minutes to
reach street level.  Once he was on the ground, Athena activated her
scanner again.
   "According to this, the contacts are that way," she pointed to the
north-east.  "Colonel, are you familiar with the layout of this city?"
   It took Rollins a moment to stop looking up and down for familiar
sights of his world and respond to Athena's question, "Yes Major, I
am."
   "Then you lead the way," she motioned.  "I'll keep my eye on the
scanner and you fill us in on what kind of obstacles we might have to
confront."
   The Air Force Colonel took a deep breath to cover his anxiety as he
began the walk up 34th Street that would take them to the turn onto 5th
Avenue.


   "We're clear of the asteroid field now, Commander," Starbuck said as
he continued to guide the shuttle.  "Estimated time of arrival to Earth
in less than one centar now."
   "Excellent," Apollo said as he glanced over his old friend's
shoulder and saw the sight of a medium-sized red planet come into view. 
Compared to the sights of the giant, gaseous planets they had earlier
passed, this one seemed tiny and frail by comparison.
   "Major Brent?" Apollo motioned the astronaut to come forward.
   "Yes, Commander Apollo?" Brent politely inquired.  He hadn't been
particularly anxious to end his ongoing conversation with Boomer about
the state of Colonial technology, but had already decided that he was
going to be polite and deferential to every person of authority in this
society.
   "Just a couple of more questions about the state of your own space
program at the time you left Earth," Apollo said as he pointed at Mars. 
"Did you get as far as settling on that red planet?"
   Brent shook his head.  "No.  We'd only gotten far as making our
first visits there just before my rescue mission left Earth.  The only
settling we did was on our moon."
   "How extensive was your settlement?" 
   "Oh....no civilian, residential complexes or anything like that.  We
had a permanent scientific complex, manned by about a hundred
scientists.  Plans were on the board for at least two more complexes,
situated elsewhere on the moon's far side.  Whether we got around to
building them depends on how long....after I left the whole calamity
happened."  He chose his words carefully.
   Apollo nodded and came over to Starbuck.  "Starbuck, tell Red
Squadron to make a little detour to conduct a full scan sweep of
everything on Earth's moon.  Have them relay the telemetry data back
here."
   "Will do," Starbuck said as he activated the switch that would put
him through to Cree.
   Ten centons later, the computer monitor on Starbuck's console was
printing out large sets of data, as the pilot listened in to what Red
Leader had to say.
   "I think you should listen in, Commander," Starbuck handed Apollo a
headset.
   As soon as Apollo had it on, he said, "Cree, this is Commander
Apollo.  What does your scan indicate?"
   "It seems like there's the remains of a highly developed settlement
down there, sir," Cree said.  "There are at least seven different
complexes throughout the entire satellite.  Each of them take up a
minimum of 2000 metrones of space along the surface to a maximum of
8000 for the largest."
   "Nothing left alive down there?" Apollo knew it was a silly question
but decided to ask it anyway.
   "Not a chance sir.  It's all old and abandoned.  That much is
clear."
   "Thanks for the report, Cree.  Have your group return to escort
formation."
   Apollo removed his headset and went back to where Brent was sitting. 
"Looks like some advancements took place after you left, Major," he
said.  "Our readings of the moon show more complexes than you
indicated."
   Which means thank God, that when I get back, I don't have to worry
about the Earth blowing up the next day, Brent thought.  At least
there's some time.
   "Are you going to investigate those remains, Commander?"
   Apollo shook his head, "There isn't time.  Those complexes may have
some clues as to what happened to Earth but we'll have to wait for
another day to look them over."
   Starbuck suddenly put a hand to his headset and frowned slightly. 
He then turned back to Apollo and said with some concern.  "Commander,
there's an urgent priority message from the Galactica."
   The commander returned to the front and again donned the headset. 
"This is Apollo."
   "Commander, this is Colonel Sheba," her words were professional, but
Apollo could hear the hint of alarm in his wife's voice.  "We have an
alert situation.  Blue Squadron patrol reports three columns of Cylon
fighters approaching the Fleet."
   Apollo's face twisted.  "Three columns?  Not a routine patrol
probe?"
   "It doesn't look that way.  Especially coming so close after the
patrol probe they sent out just the other day," the executive officer
said grimly.  "As a precaution Commander, I must request that Red
Squadron be released from your mission and return to the Galactica to
provide additional security for the Fleet."
   Apollo skipped only a beat before replying.  "Understood, Colonel. 
We'll release Red Group immediately.  At max turbos, they'll have
enough fuel to stay out for any sustained combat by the time they get
back."
   "Apollo," for the first time there was a crack in Sheba's
professional veneer, and Apollo could hear the concern raging in her
voice.  He knew that this had to have been an exceptionally difficult
decision for her to wrestle with.  The very first tough command level
responsibility of her life.
   "Yes Sheba?" he kept his voice neutral.
   He could hear her take a breath.  "You take care of yourself."
   "We will," he tried to convey the sense of pride he felt that she
had made the right decision to contact them and request for the viper
squadron's assistance.  If she hadn't possessed the mettle for tough
command decisions, she might have easily waited until after they had
moved out of safe radio range, and when calling back the vipers who
were providing safety for him would no longer be an option.  "You take
care of that Fleet, Sheba."
   "We'll blast them all out of the stars before they have a chance to
do anything," she vowed as the transmission then ceased.
   Apollo then adjusted the frequency on the communications monitor so
he was patched through to Red Squadron.  "Captain Cree, this is
Commander Apollo.  The Fleet is under Cylon attack.  You are to return
to the Fleet immediately and assist in their defense."
   There was only a split second's hesitation in Red Leader's voice. 
"Affirmative Commander.  Do you want us to at least leave one viper as
protective escort?"
   "Negative, Captain." Apollo said emphatically.  "The safety of the
Fleet comes first, and that means no single viper can be spared if this
turns out to be more serious than it already appears.  Put your turbos
to the max and get out of here."
   "Understand, Commander," Cree acknowledged.  "Good luck."
   Seconds later, the passengers in the shuttle could see the vipers
pulling out of formation and hitting their turbo engines as they
suddenly moved off in the opposite direction from where they'd been
going.
   "Apollo, what's the meaning of this?" Sire Antipas rose from his
seat.  "Where's our escort heading?"         
   Apollo drew himself up and faced the eight passengers.  "I have an
announcement to make," he said.  "Colonel Sheba just notified me that
the Fleet is under attack from Cylon fighters.  Evidently a much larger
number than the average patrol size.  As a safety precaution, the
vipers are returning in case they're needed."
   The passengers exchanged uneasy glances with each other.  All except
Antipas, who remained standing with a flustered look.
   "But if you're sending away our escort, then surely you're not
having us proceed with this mission."
   "I most certainly am, Sire Antipas," Apollo said coolly.  "I'm not
about to put our own lives at risk by having us fly back into the
middle of a potential combat zone.  The prudent thing is to proceed
with our mission."
   "With no means of defense?" Antipas's eyes widened.  "Apollo, if
these siminoids are hostile, as all indications say they will be, then
we'll be left totally defenseless!  Our boasts to them about our
superior technology will ring utterly hollow without the vipers to
provide an example!"
   Apollo motioned the four-man security detachment to step forward.
   "The circumstances require you to be more alert than ever." the
commander cautioned them.  "Wear an extra weapons pack.  Keep your
lasers at heavy stun.  If the situation gets out of hand and we need
you to cover us for a retreat back to the shuttle, fire two lasers at
once if you have to."
   As the guards went back to the rear compartment to outfit themselves
with the extra laser, Antipas resumed his protests.  "Commander, this
is not what you told me I might be in for, when I chose to volunteer
for this----"
   "Sit down, Antipas," Siress Tinia coldly admonished.  "We are all in
this together, all of us aware of the risks that are at stake. 
Commander Apollo can hardly be blamed for a disruption caused by the
Cylons."
   "But he does bear full responsibility for having us continue to
Earth when perhaps his place should be back aboard the Galactica until
the Cylon attack is over."
   "Sire Antipas, unless your constitution is now strong enough to
withstand flying through Cylon fighters yourself, I don't think you
really want to do that," Tinia emphasized.
   "We're not here to debate," Apollo said calmly.  "The decision has
been made.  You will be free to debate the repercussions at the next
Council meeting, as I said before."  He moved over to Starbuck.  "ETA
to Earth?"
   "Thirty centons," Starbuck tried to keep the frustration inside
himself hidden.  He wanted desperately to be flying his viper and
leading Blue Squadron against the Cylons.  But fate was now denying him
of that opportunity.
   He half wondered if that was some kind of signal to him about what
his own future ought to be.


   "The scanner's really starting to get interesting," Athena looked at
her instrument in amazement as she, Rollins and Ares continued the walk
up Fifth Avenue.  "Hundreds....no make that thousands of apparent human
contacts in one structure, no more than a half mile ahead on the right
side of this street."
   Rollins squinted down the avenue as he tried to figure out where
that would put them.  He then snapped his fingers as he realized that
would put them in the low 50s.
   "I think I know where that is," he said.  "Keep your eyes peeled for
a church on the right side of the street."
   "Church?" Athena looked at him and frowned.
   The astronaut lifted an eyebrow at her lack of familiarity with the
term.  "A house of worship," he said.
   "Oh," Athena nodded. "I know what you mean."
   On and on they walked, past the wrecked remains of a Port Authority
Bus and a stretch limousine.  Ahead, lay the twin lion sculptures of
the Public Library and 41st Street.
   Not much further, Rollins could feel the anticipation rising inside
him.
   "Wait a centon," Ares abruptly stopped.  "Just be quiet."
   Athena and Rollins frowned. "What's wrong?"
   "Listen," the security guard cupped a hand to his ear.  "You hear
something?"
   Athena cocked her head in the direction they had been walking. 
Slowly, she nodded her head.  "Yeah, I do.  Almost like wind
echoing----"
   "How can it be wind, when we're a thousand feet below the surface,
Major?" Ares gently inquired.  "That doesn't sound natural, it....well
whatever it is, it sounds very unpleasant."
   Rollins strained his ears to see if he could pick up the noise. 
When it finally did, he felt his flesh crawl.  The distant, feeble
sound had the effect of someone running one long fingernail across a
blackboard.
   "Come on," Athena said as the three of them began to pick up their
pace.


   The Grand Central Concourse was empty of the mutant presence for the
first time as Boxey sprinted across toward the staircase leading to the
west balcony and the exit to Madison Avenue.  When he reached the
stairs he looked back and felt his impatience rising as Taylor gently
led Nova by the hand across the Concourse.
   "Come on, Colonel!" he shouted.
   "I can't rush her!" he angrily retorted.  "Do you want me to force
her into premature labor?"
   "If we don't get to that Cathedral and stop that ceremony, that's
not going to make any difference!"
   "Okay, okay," Taylor gritted his teeth as he leaned over and
whispered something in Nova's ear.  She looked up at him with an
expression of wide-eyed obedience and when they started moving again,
their pace was considerably faster, though still not as fast as Boxey
would have preferred.  By the time the two of them reached the top of
the balcony, Boxey had the door open and was motioning impatiently.
   "What's the quickest way to the Cathedral from here?"
   "We go one block over, back to Fifth Avenue.  Then that takes us
right to where you would have entered the building."
   "Okay," Boxey nodded.  "Let's pray this ceremony of theirs is a long
one."
   They stepped out of the railroad station and began the walk up 43rd
Street.


   The sound of the noise was growing louder as the search team
continued up Fifth Avenue.  And more unpleasant in nature.
   "Sounds like bad singing and off-key music," Athena said.
   "There's only one thing that can make music loud enough to be heard
this far down," Rollins felt some nervous anxiety churning inside him. 
"The St. Patrick's Cathedral organ." he stopped and pointed to two
spire shaped towers nine blocks away.  "Right there."
   Athena nodded, "That checks with the scanner reading.  Whatever
lives here is in there.  Ares, get your weapon ready.  You too,
Colonel."
   The two men pulled out the laser pistols on their pack.  Rollins
felt no discomfort at all with the strange weapon.  Except for it's
bulkier size, it was no different than holding a police special
revolver.
   As they moved past 42nd Street, Rollins felt his attention briefly
diverted to his right.  One more block and they'd be moving past 43rd
Street where the Pan Am Building and Grand Central Station would be
visible.  His curiosity to see what those two familiar sights would
look like now, made him keep his head cocked to the right, even as he
continued to move forward with the others.
   Finally, the three of them moved past 43rd Street.  Rollins' eyes
did a double take at first when he saw the familiar sight of the Pan Am
Building, but with an unfamiliar name across the top.  Instead of PAN
AM, it now read MET LIFE.  His eyes then moved down toward street level
where Grand Central Station still stood.  He could remember how there'd
been a massive campaign underway to preserve the historic railroad
station from demolition at the time the Magellan II had left on its
journey.  Jackie Kennedy herself had been leading the effort. 
Evidently, the campaign had worked.  The station still stood long after
it had ceased to function for its intended purpose.
   Suddenly, Rollins froze.
   "Major," he whispered.
   Athena and Ares, who had kept their attention in front of them,
stopped and frowned at him.  "What is it, Colonel?"
   "Something's moving down there.  Something in front of that
building.  Grand Central Station, it used to be the big transportation
terminal in the city."
   Athena trained her scanner down the block.  "I read three human
contacts....and yes, I see them."
   "Do we approach them?" Ares inquired with caution.
   "We might as well," Athena said.  "Three people should be easier to
handle at first than three thousand.  Keep your weapons raised."  She
reattached her scanner to her belt and pulled out her own laser pistol. 
With each of their weapons at the ready, the search team moved off down
43rd Street.


   Nova had gone barely twenty feet from the Station entrance, when she
suddenly doubled over and nearly collapsed to the ground, her hands
clutching at her bulging stomach.
   "What's going on?" Boxey felt an edge of panic entering him for the
first time.
   Taylor leaned over the woman he loved and examined her critically. 
"I'm no doctor, but if I were placing bets, She's starting to go into
labor."
   "Great," Boxey gritted his teeth.  "That's just great.  Colonel, I'm
sorry.  You're going to have to leave her here temporarily.  As soon as
we stop the ceremony, we can return for her."
   "I'm not sure I can do that," Taylor glared at him.  "You're asking
me to do something horrible to her.  Leave her alone out here in this
wasteland at a time like this?"
   "She's going to be dead if we don't stop that ceremony.  Her and her
child.  You and me!  The whole fracking world!  Colonel, if you love
her, then come with me!"
   "You handle it Boxey," Taylor knelt down and cradled Nova's writhing
form in his arms.  "Come back for us later.  You go on."
   "I can't do this alone, Colonel, I need some fracking help!" he
raised his voice.  "For the love of God, Colonel, please!"
   Taylor didn't respond.  He was still cradling Nova, alternately
kissing her on the cheek and whispering softly in her ear to try and
calm her down as the thrashing motions of labor became more evident.
   "All right then!" Boxey shouted.  "All right, you wait here Colonel
Taylor!  And when that thing goes off, I hope you have enough time in a
millimicron before the fireball consumes the both of you to realize
your mistake!"
   The Galactica warrior wheeled around and prepared to dash madly up
43rd Street.  And then, he suddenly froze in numb disbelief when he saw
standing just twenty feet away with incredulous expressions, two people
he knew well, along with a stranger.
   A second later, Taylor idly looked up and his jaw fell open in shock
not from the sight of two strangers, but from the sight of one man he
recognized instantly and never expected to see again in his life.


   The morning dawn had arrived just as the gorilla army reached the
dividing line where the lush greenery of the jungle ended and the
desolateness of the Forbidden Zone began.  As the orange rays of the
sun crept over the rock formations and jagged peaks, General Ursus
turned his horse around and gave Dr. Zaius a look of smug satisfaction.
   "You see, Dr. Zaius?" he taunted.  "The coming of dawn finds us
already at the entryway to the Forbidden Zone, saving ourselves much
needed time."
   The elderly orangutan looked across the barren scene and wondered
for only a brief instant if everything he knew and believed about
mankind was wrong.  It was difficult to fathom the existence of a human
society still flourishing somewhere.  But the proof of Taylor and then
Starbuck, coupled with what he knew from the Unknown Scrolls, told him
that he had to believe it.
   What would it bring?  The long-awaited eradication of the menace he
had feared all his life, even before the appearance of Taylor?  Or
would it mean the eradication of the gorilla army and thus mark the
beginning of the end for Ape Civilization itself?
   It was still difficult for Zaius to consider the alternative of a
negotiated settlement, even on terms of live and let live in mutual
isolation.  That had been viable only when the knowledge of intelligent
humans was a careful secret guarded by himself and all his predecessors
as Chief Defender of the Faith.  But now, with all of Ape Civilization
in the know about what Man really was, that no longer seemed possible. 
No matter what happened in this engagement, he doubted that the future
would bring anything but a final confrontation that would mean death
and destruction for either Ape Civilization or Human Civilization.
   Old prejudices and hatreds can never die, Zaius thought
philosophically.  Man against man.  Man against ape.  Even the
prejudices in our own ranks.  They're as much a part of our nature as
they are in man.
   His thoughts were broken when General Ursus unsheathed his
ceremonial battle sword and raised it triumphantly.
   "In the name of the Lawgiver.  Advance!" the general thundered.  In
an instant, the hundreds of horseback riders had begun their descent
into the desolation of the Forbidden Zone.

                    Chapter Twelve

   "This is Green Leader to Galactica." there was only the barest hint
of alarm in Jolly's voice.  "Three squadrons of Cylon fighters staying
massed together for concentrated attack.  Current bearing puts them on
heading for the heaviest section of ships grouped together in the
Fleet."
   "Keep all squadrons together, Jolly," Sheba radioed back from her
command post on the bridge.  "Don't let up on your fire for a micron."
   "Affirmative, Galactica.  Green Leader out."
   The executive officer moved over to the monitor that indicated the
size of the attack force where Major Omega was waiting.  With Sheba
forced to act as commander, Omega had now assumed the position of
acting executive officer.
   "It's not the size of a killer force designed to wipe us all out, or
else their baseships would be moving in." Sheba said.  "This seems to
have all the makings of a psychological strike, designed to throw us
into panic."
   "Testing out new weaponry perhaps?" Omega speculated.  "Using one of
the ships of the Fleet for target practice?"
   "Perhaps.  But if it's one of the ships in the Fleet they want to
take out, we can't let them lay a finger on the most critical ones." 
She picked up the unicom mike.  "Attention.  This is Acting Commander
Sheba.  The following ships are ordered to increase to maximum speed
and move up alongside the Galactica.  Agro Ships #1 and #2, Celestra,
Electronics Ship, Livestock Ship and Hospital Ship #1." she set the
microphone down.  "If the Cylons aren't planning a strike on the
Galactica then getting those ships alongside us will give them some
extra protection."
   "At the expense of civilian freighters, Colonel?" Omega inquired
delicately.
   Sheba sighed.  "It's a difficult choice.  But without those ships,
this Fleet can't function."
   "Colonel," Bridge Officer Danning looked up.  "Red Squadron group
now returning from escort mission and ready to join the other squadrons
in Fleet defense."
   "Good," the acting commander nodded.  "Give them rendezvous
coordinates with Captain Jolly's formation." she adjusted her headset. 
"Jolly, this is Sheba.  You've got more vipers joining you in another
centon or two from Red Group."
   "Thanks Colonel," Green Leader sounded relieved.  "A few extra
vipers could make the difference in keeping strays from getting
through."
   Sheba didn't respond to that point, but inside she felt a measure of
relief go through her.  When she'd first received word from Jolly that
the Cylons were bearing down on the Fleet again, she'd agonized for one
centon over whether she could bring herself to contact Apollo and tell
him that his escort group was needed.  And in one centon, she realized
that if she placed his safety ahead of the rest of the Fleet, she'd do
him a far greater disservice than she ever could have imagined.  She
was the Executive Officer because he'd trusted her judgment and her
ability.  She had to vindicate his faith in her no matter what the
personal cost was.
   "Battle Stations!" she barked with an edge reminiscent of her
father.  The red glow filled the bridge and the sound of the alert
klaxon increased in intensity as each compartment aboard the battlestar
sealed shut and all laser turrets reached full operational status.  The
battlestar was now at maximum readiness in the event that the
approaching Cylon fighters broke through the lines of viper defense and
bore down on her for the first time in many yahrens.


   Hera couldn't recall a time in her life when she'd seen so many
Cylon fighters.  In her brief time as a warrior, she was used to seeing
the occasional patrol that harassed the rear-guard of the Fleet, but
that never amounted to more than twenty fighters at the maximum.  This
time, there was nearly five times that number bearing down on the
Fleet.  Clearly, this was going to be her first major test as a combat
pilot.
   "Green Leader to all squadrons," Jolly signaled.  "Keep yourselves
aligned in even formation.  Let's try to be a wall these guys can't get
through."
   "Copy Green Leader," Hera spoke up, anxious to make her first
strike.  "Twenty microns to contact."
   The young ensign could feel the anxious perspiration breaking out on
her forehead.  She calmly increased the air coolant flow into her
helmet and felt it stop.  This was the centon she had waited for almost
all her life since she had first decided to become a warrior.  As far
as she was concerned, signs of anxious tension needed to be left behind
during the training sessions in the simulator so that when the first
major battle came, it would seem routine.
   Besides, she thought idly to herself.  After yesterday and the day
before, how can taking on the Cylons seem more dangerous?  From her
standpoint, the cold, impersonal nature of Cylon robots didn't strike
her as more terrifying than the ugly siminoids.  
   "Here they come," Cree said as the Cylon fighters came into visual
contact.  Red Leader was feeling a sense of enormous relief that he and
his escort group had made it back with almost no time to spare.
   "Get'em!" Jolly barked.
   A mass wall of red laser fire erupted from the wide echelon of
vipers.  In an instant, five Cylon fighters were destroyed before the
first one managed any return fire.
   For two centons, the two groups of fighters continued their
straight-on approach toward each other, with each side trading off a
blizzard of laser fire that destroyed eleven more Cylon fighters and
three vipers.  Finally, as the two echelons drew perilously close to
each other, the formations dispersed rapidly as the fighters from each
group moved off in a variety of directions.
   "They're dispersing!" Jolly shouted.  "Keep all of them accounted
for on your scanners.  No more than two or three vipers engage each
grouping!"
   Hera went to her turbo and went in pursuit of one group of three
Cylon fighters.  She had scored her first two kills and could already
feel the sense of exhilaration and adrenaline going through her body
that she always knew she'd feel on the day she fought her first major
battle.  She felt it increase as she lined up behind the group of three
and took out the fighter in the center.
   She could see the two remaining fighters prepare to peel off in
opposite directions and she accurately sized up the angle the one on
the left would go.  The end result was that after she opened fire, the
Cylon fighter ended up moving right into the blast.
   What they say is true, she smiled with satisfaction.  Cylon pilots
have no natural flying ability at all.
   Hera took off after the remaining fire and steadily lined it up in
her attack computer.  In an instant, it would be neatly aligned and
start to blink, indicating that it's death was imminent.  One more
micron.
   Just as the fighter started to blink on the computer, Hera suddenly
felt a wave of nausea hit her.  An inner sickness that she had never
felt at any time in her life before.  She could feel her entire sense
of equilibrium disappearing as her head started to spin, and a rising
tide of bile filled her stomach.
   The sick sensation finally proved so overwhelming that Hera felt her
hand let go of the control stick.
   "Hera!" she heard Jolly's voice going through her helmet.  "Hera,
what's wrong?  You're headed on a collision course for that Cylon!"
   Hera found herself too sick to respond.  She was oblivious to the
sensation of her viper moving out of control since the dizzy sensation
was already too much for her to handle.  She desperately wanted to
remove her helmet and vomit.  So great was her oblivion to everything
else that she barely heard the sound of the collision alarm filling the
cockpit.
   "Hera!" Jolly's voice shrieked at the top of his lungs.
   "Hang on Jolly, I'll try to get him!" Cree jumped in and hit his
turbo engine.
   Green Leader watched with horror as he saw Hera's viper careening
out of control toward the Cylon fighter.  The two ships were only
microns away from impacting each other.
   Finally, at the very last possible micron, Cree opened fire on the
Cylon and his laser blasts struck the enemy craft and consumed it just
as Hera's out-of-control viper passed through the very spot where the
fighter had been an instant before.
   "Hera!" Jolly barked.  "Respond!"
   Slowly, Hera felt the effects of her dizziness and nausea wearing
off.  She sat upright in her chair and frantically grabbed hold of the
control stick.  To the relief of the other nearby viper pilots, her
craft finally came back to an even heading.
   "I'm okay," her voice was out of breath from much exhaling.  "I'm
okay.  I don't know what happened, but I feel fine now."
   "Resume formation with the rest of Blue and Red Groups, Hera," Jolly
said with relief.  "Indications show six fighters pierced the wall and
are headed for the rear guard of the Fleet.  My group and Silver Spar
will chase the withdrawing fighters and see if we can take care of all
of them."
   "Affirmative," Hera nodded as she felt her head clearing and tried
to figure out why she had gone through that intense wave of sickness. 
It wasn't like anything she'd gone through before in her life.
   Frack, don't tell me I brought back a disease from Earth that
Cassiopeia missed.
   She managed to put that question out of her mind as she saw the two
passenger freighters Antares and Nebulae come into view.  Already, the
six remaining Cylon fighters were opening fire with a rapid intensity
designed to inflict maximum damage on the two ships.
   Cool determination then took hold as she sized up the first fighter
on her attack computer and opened fire.


   Ten centons later, a somber Omega rejoined Sheba on the upper level.
   "Looks like the attack's over for now," he said.  "Six fighters got
through and caused damage to the Antares and Nebulae.  Their captains
report about fifty dead.  Overall structural integrity still intact on
both ships though."
   Sheba winced slightly.  "That's unfortunate.  But that also
indicates how determined this attack force was to inflict damage on any
ship in the Fleet they could open fire on."
   "Which vindicates your judgment to pull out the more critical ships
from the rear guard," Omega nodded.  "The same kind of damage to the
Celestra or the agro ship would have been disastrous."
   "It looks that way," Sheba sighed and looked at the monitor.  "Tell
Silver Spar and Green Squadrons to maintain a patrol presence at the
rear flank for now to make sure they don't come back again.  Let's
bring Blue and Red Groups home for now."
   "Affirmative," Omega then skipped a beat.  "Should we send Red Group
back out to resume the escort mission for the Commander?"
   Sheba shook her head.  "We can't make the assumption that they won't
be needed again in the near future.  Their pilots have to stay here on
Yellow Alert standby."
   "Colonel," Omega tried to keep his tone deferential, "Maybe just one
viper---" he then trailed off when he saw her expression grow cold.
   "The Commander is well aware of standard operating procedure in the
wake of any Cylon attack, Major," she said.  "That means Yellow Alert
status for all pilots remains in effect for a minimum of forty-eight
centars.  He wouldn't break that rule for anyone else and wouldn't want
it to be broken for him."
   The Chief Bridge Officer reluctantly nodded.  "Yes, Colonel." he
then moved off, leaving Sheba alone.  She went over to the railing and
found her eyes locked on the main viewing screen where she could see
the medium intense light of Earth's distant sun overshadowing the rest
of the stars.
   By all the Lords, she prayed silently. Please protect the ones I
love.  


   "You feeling okay, Hera?" Cree asked with concern as he saw the
young ensign drop from her viper to the Landing Bay tarmac.
   "I feel fine, Cree," she said reassuringly.  "I have no idea what
happened out there.  But thanks for being there at the right time."
   "Thank God for the recall order," Cree said simply.  "If the
Commander had insisted my group stay with him....." he trailed off, not
wanting to say the obvious.
   Hera nodded in understanding.  "Maybe some of that Earth food
disagreed with me or something.  I'll drop by the Life Station and see
if Cassiopeia can figure anything out."
   She stepped into the turbo lift that would take her up to the deck
where the Life Station was located.  It literally baffled her that she
could have gone through a sudden spell of sickness as she had in the
viper cockpit at that particular time.
   With my dumb luck, I'll probably get grounded because of this, she
thought with disgust as the doors opened and she proceeded down the
corridor.


   "Report?"
   For the first time in many yahrens, Lucifer felt unable to
anticipate what Baltar's reaction to news was going to be.  He knew
very well that any hope of having some sense of purpose restored to his
life could very well hinge on what the traitor's next decision would
be.
   "The results were unfortunately not what we anticipated, Baltar,"
the IL Cylon said.  "The lack of sustained combat flying these many
yahrens has clearly taken its toll on our pilots.  Moderate damage was
inflicted to two ships in the Colonial Fleet, but neither one was
destroyed."
   "Are you suggesting that we turn around, go back to Cylon and let a
new class of basestar take our place, even though it would take them
five yahrens of sustained hyperdrive to reach this position?" there was
a faint smirk on Baltar's cybernetic face.
   Lucifer was slightly taken aback by the remark, "Certainly not,
Baltar."
   The traitor let out one of his malevolent chuckles that his
second-in-command despised so much.  "Lucifer, you are too much the
pessimist.  It is not relevant whether or not we succeeded in
destroying a single Colonial ship.  What we have done is reinforce the
idea that we can strike at any time we want in the last great battle. 
We must provoke sheer terror within them.  Terror so strong, that there
will soon come a point when the Galactica and her Fleet will be able to
bear it no longer.  They will come crawling to us begging for mercy,
when they see how hopeless it is for them."
   "An outcome all of us would enjoy seeing," Lucifer conceded.  "But
what step do we take to instill such terror in them?"
   "The answer is quite simple, old friend.  Now we abandon this
perpetual policy of staying outside the Galactica's scanner range. 
Soon, it shall be our policy to stay constantly within scanner range. 
Let the constant sight of our task force on their monitors unnerve them
at every possible turn."
   "An eloquent solution," the IL Cylon admitted.  "But suppose that
our constant presence on their scanners only motivates the Galactica to
take some kind of action against us?  Even you would concede that
Commander Adama and his successors are capable of conceiving such an
operation."
   "Adama or Apollo will not be the instrument of the final surrender,
Lucifer," Baltar said smugly.  "The pressure will come from within. 
From that same spirit of weakness within humanity that made it possible
for them to accept a foolish overture of peace twenty-five yahrens ago. 
And when that happens, the long overdue end to the thousand yahren war
shall at last take place."


   As soon as Sheba had learned of Hera's near-brush with death, she
had immediately gone down to the Life Station to check up on her
daughter.  When she arrived, she saw Hera sitting impatiently in the
main chamber.
   "Hi," Sheba came over and sat next to her.  "Cree told me what
happened out there.  Are you okay now?"
   "I'm perfectly fine, Mother," Hera said reassuringly.  "I don't know
what happened, but Cassiopeia should have the answer in a few microns. 
She's been sitting in there for almost a half- centar now going over my
test results."
   Her mother's brow knitted in surprise, "That's kind of long isn't
it?"
   "You're telling me," she began to tap her foot.  "I might have gone
over to the Officers Club to wait, but I want to know why the frack the
whole thing happened.  I can't afford to let a dizzy spell like that
happen again during a combat situation, or  else my astrum's going to
get fried good some day."
   "We're in trouble if it's a disease you brought back from Earth,"
Sheba grunted.
   "I know," Hera nodded.  "And that's why I've got to wait here to
know what the results are."
   The door then slid open and Cassiopeia emerged holding several
charts at her side.  Her expression was one of total incredulity.  More
incredulous than it had been at any other time in her life.
   "Cassie?" Sheba frowned as she and Hera got to their feet.  "Do you
have the results finished?"
   The Chief Medical Officer blinked slightly when she noticed Sheba
standing alongside Hera.  "Oh...Sheba.  I didn't realize you'd be...."
   "I came down as soon as I heard about what happened out there," the
executive officer folded her arms.  "If Hera's picked up some kind of
disease on Earth----"
   "No, no," Cassiopeia hastily interrupted with a wave of her hand. 
"No, it's nothing like that.  Hera, you've got a clean bill of health
as far as that goes."
   "That's a relief," Hera said.  "But that doesn't explain why I had
the blackout.  If I can't get a guarantee that won't happen again,
you'd have to ground me."
   Right away, they noticed how uncomfortable Cassiopeia seemed.  She
bit her lip and looked around, as if to see if anyone else in the Life
Station was in earshot.  "Ummm, Hera, Sheba, that's not exactly all. 
I----"
   "What?" Sheba's frown intensified.  "Cassie, if you've got something
to say, come out with it."
   "Follow me," the Chief Medical Officer motioned.  "My office."
   Sheba and Hera exchanged bewildered glances and followed her in to
the small private room that Cassiopeia maintained as a private working
cubicle.  As soon as they were inside and the door shut, Cassiopeia sat
behind her small desk and took a deep breath.
   "Hera, I want you to realize that I took an extra half-centar to
make sure that what I found out wasn't some kind of computer foul-up,
or some practical joke being played on me.  But I can keep checking it
all I want and the results are still going to be the same.  According
to these tests," she took another deep breath and made sure she was
looking them both in the eye.  "According to these tests Hera, you're
pregnant."
   The two of them both froze in numb shock.  Cassiopeia waited for
them to sufficiently recover before moving on.
   "What's more, this test indicates that fertilization took place
within the last sectan.  It's the earliest phase our equipment is
capable of detecting these things.  And that, is the cause of your
dizzy spell in the viper.  Ordinarily, that kind of symptom should take
place much later in the pregnancy, but for whatever reason it hit you
very early.  And that's a first as far as I know in the annals of
Colonial medicine."
   Sheba stared at her daughter in total bewilderment and disbelief. 
Hera's initial shock was slowly giving way to a sick realization of
what the whole thing meant.
   "Oh God," she whispered as she sat down in front of Cassiopeia's
desk.  "Oh God, I never thought...." she trailed off, unable to think
of anything else to say.
   Sheba came over to her and looked down at her, trying to summon all
the maternal support she could to offset the shock and disappointment
she felt that all the things she and Apollo had carefully instructed
their children in over the yahrens had sadly came to naught.
   "Hera," she finally managed to speak.  "Who....?" she got no
further, still finding it hard to comprehend the whole thing.
   The blonde ensign was staring off into space wondering what she had
done to merit this cosmic joke.  One simple afternoon of relief in the
arms of a handsome, blue-eyed primitive had led to an outcome she never
would have considered within the realm of remote possibility.
   "Hera," Sheba felt her voice rising.  "Who the frack....?"
   She finally got to her feet.  "Mother, it wasn't a warrior.  It
wasn't anyone on the Galactica or anyone in the Fleet.  It was," she
sighed and sat down again.  "It was on Earth.  While I was hiding from
the siminoids and trying to figure out how to find Starbuck."
   It took all of her strength to spend the next five centons telling
the both of them exactly what had happened just two days ago in the
tranquil setting of a lush jungle by the clear waters of a lagoon. 
Being forced to talk about an incident she'd wanted to keep locked
inside her forever made Hera feel utterly violated.
   "If you realized what I'd been through, you'd understand," her voice
was cracking.  "That man literally saved my life.  He....he gave me
something to reach out for when I thought I was going to lose my nerve
after I saw the siminoids shoot dead that woman who took my clothes. 
I....I was grateful to him, and attracted to him, and I knew I had to
wait until night to make my move to save Starbuck, so...." her voice
trailed off.  She was too proud to let any tears be shed over this.
   Sheba let out a sad sigh and put her hand on her daughter's
shoulder.
   "It's okay," she whispered tenderly, "It's okay Hera.  I understand. 
It was....well it was a normal reaction."
   Cassiopeia awkwardly cleared her throat.  "Well....that explains why
you developed symptoms way early for normal cases. It must be some
minor side-effect caused by whatever slight differences in physiologies
exist between our people and Earth natives."
   "It should be healthy overall, shouldn't it?" Sheba looked up at
her.
   The Chief Medical Officer nodded, "I don't see any signs that it
won't be."  She then got up from her chair.  "I'll....leave you two
alone for now."
   As soon as Cassiopeia was gone, Sheba knelt beside her daughter and
hugged her tightly.  "It's okay," she repeated.  "It's okay.  You don't
have anything to be ashamed about.  No one has the right to condemn you
for what happened.  Not me, not your father, not Boxey.  Not anyone."
   "But this is something I have to live with for the rest of my life,"
Hera sighed.  "Oh God, why?"
   "I don't know," she kept her hold on her daughter.  "I don't know
why the Lords had to dictate that one centon of loneliness would lead
to this.  But Hera, you have to put that behind you.  You have to
accept things as they are, just like we all do."
   "For what?" an edge of bitterness entered her voice.  "Frack, I was
yahrens away from even thinking of getting sealed, let alone having a
child."
   "The Lords have said otherwise, Hera," Sheba said firmly.  "Accept
that."
   Hera leaned back in her chair against the wall, staring up at the
ceiling.  "I guess I'm grounded now."
   "Is that all that matters to you, Hera?" her mother's voice grew
slightly stern.  "The future of your career as a hot shot pilot?  If
you're going to handle this, I suggest you get your priorities
straight, starting now."
   "And what are my priorities supposed to be?" she avoided looking at
her.  "How many male warriors do the kind of thing I did only once, a
hundred times and end up never having to worry about the consequences
at all?"
   "Too many," Sheba admitted.  "Your Grandpa Cain used to be just like
that before he met your grandmother.  But Hera, you can't wallow over
any double standards you think exist because you're a woman.  You have
to deal with what's best for yourself, and for that child you're now
responsible for." she paused and then chose her next words
deliberately, "If Boxey's mother could handle it, so can you.  And
don't forget, I still kept flying vipers long after you were born."
   Hera finally forced herself to look at her mother, but now seemed
too spent to say anything else.
   "Look at it this way," Sheba's tone grew more somber, "Thanks to
you, we're going to find out soon if there can be healthy breeding
between the Earth primitives and our people.  Our whole future strategy
on dealing with the primitives may rest on whether you have a healthy
child or not."
   Her daughter still said nothing for a moment, and then smiled
faintly.  "Not the way I wanted to make history, but...." her tone was
philosophical.
   Sheba smiled with all the warmth and affection she could summon. 
"That's better," she hugged her again, "Always know that you've got a
family that loves you and will be there for you no matter what."
   Hera relaxed as she returned her mother's hug, "Thanks Mom," she
whispered, falling back on a title she hadn't used since she was
twelve.  "I love you."
   The door slid open and Cassiopeia awkwardly cleared her throat.
   "Omega needs you on the bridge, Colonel," the Chief Medical Officer
said.  "He says something's up with those Cylons again."
   "Great," the executive officer got to her feet.  "What more are we
in for?"


   "You can see for yourself," Omega pointed to the scanner.  "Three
baseships have reached the edge of scanner range and are holding their
position there."
   "But no indications of a new attack beginning."  Sheba was amazed.
   "None," the senior bridge officer admitted.  "Green and Silver Spar
Groups say they tested their perimeter just a bit to see if it would
draw a response.  But from the looks of it, they've locked themselves
shut."
   Sheba put her hand on her chin and stared intently at the board for
a centon.
   "One thing's for certain," she finally spoke.  "We have to keep our
heading away from Earth.  If the Cylons want to keep their eye on us
for awhile, we can't let them get into a position where they could take
a scan of the planet." she turned back to Omega.  "Keep two squadrons
in constant rotation at the rear guard.  I want us to be ready the
micron one of those baseships so much as breathes."
   "Yes Colonel," Omega nodded and moved off.
   Sheba kept staring intently at the board, trying to figure out how
this scenario could have a positive ending.  Already, she was feeling
the dread sensation that no positive solution could be immediately
discerned.
   "Mother?" Hera gently inquired.
   It took the executive officer a half-centon to acknowledge her. 
"Yes?"
   "Mother," there was an edge of determination in her daughter's
voice.  "Request permission to take my viper back out and give
protective escort to the presidential shuttle."
   Sheba's eyebrow knitted in bewilderment, "What?"
   "You have to let me go back out, Mother," her determination
increased.  "Not only does the delegation need protection, but they
also have to be appraised of what's happening here."
   "HeraC" she started gravely, but the blonde ensign quickly cut her
off.
   "No buts, Mother," Hera said.  "According to regulations, I'm
prohibited from combat flights because of the potential risk to my
unborn child.  But that doesn't apply for an escort mission where I
wouldn't be taking on anything that would endanger my safety.  I'm the
only viper pilot who's not indispensable as far as being ready for
another Cylon strike goes."  she paused for effect, "And you know that
the sooner we get some escort protection back in place for the
Commander's party, the better we'll all feel.  Cassie's given me some
pills that'll keep me from another dizzy spell so you don't have to
worry about that."
   Slowly, Sheba nodded and then smiled faintly.
   "Get moving," she said with her best command edge, "And take care of
yourself out there."
   "Yes sir," she returned the satisfied smile and then wasted no time
sprinting off the bridge.
   Just like her father, and my father, Sheba thought with irony as she
went back to the navigation board.

                    Chapter Thirteen

   "Boxey, thank the Lords!" Athena rushed up to her nephew and they
gave each other a quick hug.
   "Glad you're here, Athena," Boxey smiled with partial relief and
then tensed himself.  "Hera and Starbuck?"
   "We rescued them yesterday and sent them back to the Galactica. 
They're okay."
   "Thank God," Boxey felt his relief deepen just a bit.  But inside,
he was still a churning mass of anxiety.  "Athena, as much as I want to
talk to you about what's been happening, we haven't got much time."
   "What do you mean?" Athena frowned as Ares moved in to listen.
   As Boxey talked to the two Colonials, Rollins made his way forward
where a stunned Taylor sat hunched over the writhing form of Nova.
   "Hello George," Rollins said simply.
   Taylor shook his head with the same bewilderment and shock he would
have felt if he'd seen a ghost.  Even after all the incredible
experiences he had gone through in the last six months, one thing he
had never prepared his mind to accept was the thought of seeing someone
from his own time again.  Especially someone who'd been the closest
thing he'd ever had to a genuine friend.  He and Rollins had been in
the same class at the Air Force Academy, had flown missions in Vietnam
together and then been selected in the same group of new astronauts for
the space program.  They had flown together on both Gemini and Apollo
missions, and had been part of the elite group selected for the
advanced wave of space flights to the Moon and Mars that began in the
wake of the nation's euphoria over the Apollo XI landing.  There was no
one else in the space program that Taylor had known better than
Rollins.
   Because of that, Taylor found Rollins to be the only one of his
fellow astronauts worth fraternizing with on occasion, sharing a beer
at a local Houston bar.  And often, the two of them would talk about
every subject imaginable from politics, philosophy and religion to
sports and movies.  The two of them had never agreed on just about
anything, but Rollins had always struck Taylor as a man of refreshing
honesty and candor, and that made the usually misanthropic Taylor
admire Rollins more than any other man he'd known.  He'd always felt
that if the average 20th Century man had been like Rollins, he would
have had just enough optimism about mankind's future to not volunteer
for Project Magellan.
   "Phil?" he finally managed to force the word out.  "Phil, is that
really you?"
   "Damn right," Rollins smirked at his fellow astronaut.  "I take it
this is Nova?" 
   Taylor's eyes widened even more in disbelief.  "How....how could you
know about Nova?"
   "I know everything about what's happened to you, George.  About
Landon, Dodge, Stewart, the apes, everything."
   Taylor shook his head.  "No you don't Phil.  You don't know
everything."
   Just then, the three Colonials sprinted over to where Rollins was
standing.
   "Colonel Rollins," the alarm was evident in Athena's voice.  "We
have to get moving.  According to Boxey, there's a population of crazy
people in that cathedral building ready to set off one of those
Alpha-Omega bombs you told us about."
   Rollins jerked his head around.  "What?"
   "It's true, Phil," Taylor sighed as he continued to rub his hand
through Nova's hair.
   "But how the...how the hell could.....?"
   "There's no time to figure that out, Colonel," Athena said
forcefully.  "We have to stop them.  Now."
   "Agreed," he nodded and turned back to Taylor.  "George, you've got
to come with us."
   "You don't understand Phil," Taylor whispered with agony, "I can't
leave her here!  She's about to give birth."
   "Which isn't going to amount to anything if the whole world blows
up!" Rollins raised his voice.
   "Look, let's do it this way," Athena jumped in, anxious to get the
situation resolved quickly.  "Boxey, you come with me and Ares and
we'll go ahead to the Cathedral to see what's happening.  Colonel
Rollins, you help Colonel Taylor and his woman, and try to catch up
with us as best you can. "
   "Okay," Rollins nodded.  "We'll meet you in front of the Cathedral."
   The three Colonials then turned and began sprinting back up 43rd
Street toward Fifth Avenue as though they were running the hundred yard
dash.  By the time Rollins had finished helping Taylor get Nova on her
feet, the Galactica warriors had rounded the corner and disappeared
from view.
   "It's okay Nova," Taylor whispered in her ear.  "This is Rollins. 
Roll-ins.  He's a friend of mine and won't hurt you.  He's a friend of
Tay-lor."
   Nova glanced cautiously at the other astronaut, then back at Taylor. 
When Rollins took hold of her arm, Taylor felt relieved that she didn't
try to resist.  She'd understood him completely.
   "We'll both take her by the arms and keep her off her feet," Rollins
grunted as they began to slowly move forward at a regular walking pace.
   "Thanks," Taylor sighed with relief.  Nova's involuntary jerking had
subsided for now, which indicated that perhaps her giving birth wasn't
quite as imminent as Taylor had first thought.  "I just....I just
couldn't leave her alone out here, Phil.  She's....She's all I've got
left."
   "I know," Rollins nodded.  "Like I said, I heard all about what
happened to the rest of your crew."
   "Before I ask you how learned that, how the hell did you get here?"
Taylor asked as they moved across Madison Avenue.
   "I'm on a rescue mission, George," Rollins said.  "Everyone knew six
months after you left that you weren't going to end up anywhere near
Betelgeuse after a whistleblower at Consolidated Dynamics revealed some
information about the shoddy computer system they designed in your
ship.  Hasslein must have spent twenty-three hours a day for a whole
year trying to figure out a procedure for getting you back.  He finally
came up with a blueprint that resulted in the Magellan II expedition,
launched in December 1975."
   "They didn't send you alone, did they?" Taylor kept his eyes forward
as they continued down 43rd Street.
   "No," Rollins could feel some of the strain on his right shoulder
from carrying Nova but tried to shut it out.  "Jack Brent's my
second-in-command.  He went back to that command ship of theirs, the
Galactica.  Don Fowler was part of the team too, but he was killed when
the ship crash landed."
   "You too, huh?" Taylor smirked mirthlessly.  "Sorry about Fowler. 
Is your ship beyond repair?"
   "Looks that way," Rollins conceded.  "But Brent and I think we might
be able to figure another way of getting back, using one of the ships
these people have."
   Taylor let out another grim chuckle.  "What would you be going back
for, Phil?  Even if you made it, you'd just end up in a place that's
going to blow up in another twenty years.  I wouldn't think about that
anymore, if I were you."
   Right away, Rollins realized that Taylor hadn't latched on to the
idea that he and Brent had already formed.  That the point of going
back would be to change history and prevent this horrible sight from
ever becoming a reality.  He was on the verge of retorting sharply to
his friend, but then realized that he might be opening up a can of
worms that needed to be put off until later.  Instead, he delicately
changed the subject.
   "First things first," he said.  "Who are these nutty people that
have an Alpha-Omega Bomb, and how the hell did they get hold of one?"
   "I don't know the answer to the second question," Taylor said.  "As
to the first one, brace yourself."
   By the time Taylor had finished explaining to Rollins, the second
astronaut felt his feet quicken their pace as they finally reached the
end of 43rd Street and made the turn back onto Fifth Avenue.


   Ahead of the two astronauts and the one primitive, the three
Galactica warriors had already reached St. Patrick's Cathedral, where
the unpleasant cacophony from inside grew louder and louder.  It had
now reached the point where Boxey could make out some of the words
being sung in an unrhythmic, unmelodic pattern.
   "Blessed be the Bomb Everlasting.  Maker of us all."
   "What did I tell you?" Boxey grunted as he pressed his body against
the thick bronze doors and pulled out the laser pistol that Athena had
given him from her spare pack.
   "It's sickening," even though Athena had long ago lost her faith in
the religion her father had brought her up in, she had always
maintained respect for it.  To hear a religious invocation for a weapon
of destruction was too revolting for her to have ever comprehended.
   "Before we move in, there's one thing I've got to emphasize," Boxey
said.  "Their power is all in the mind.  It's imperative that you
exercise all your mental energy to block out their influences. 
Whatever they try to summon is an illusion.  That has to be understood
completely, or there's no way we can succeed."
   "That's all well and good for the two of you," Ares spoke up.  "But
I never took that special training course of Commander Adama's.  I
wouldn't know how to fight those influences."
   "That does present a problem," Boxey conceded.  "Just as it also
does for Colonel Taylor and Colonel Rollins.  I wouldn't worry about
Nova since I think her mind is too docile to be influenced.  The only
thing that influences her mind is Taylor." 
   "So what's our plan of action?" the security guard folded his arms.
   "I think as a precaution, Lieutenant, you'd better give me your
laser," Athena reached out her hand.  "If you start to act....peculiar,
I may have to stun you."
   Ares was slightly reluctant at first but then nodded and detached
both of his lasers.  He handed one to Boxey and the other to Athena, so
the other two warriors now had two lasers each.
   "There's a chance they're so wrapped up in their ceremony that they
may not notice us," Boxey said.  "I'm going to go inside and take a
quick visual inspection.  If it looks like they're not close to
detonation, I'll return and we can map our next move.  But if you hear
my gun going off, don't waste a micron charging in after me."
   "Understood," the major nodded. "This....bomb should be easy to
spot?"
   "You can't miss it," Boxey placed his hand on the bronze handle of
the door.  "It's right at the back of the sanctuary, no doubt primed
and ready to go off.  If I can get a sense of where the control
mechanism is, we have a better chance of success."
   "I wish we could contact the Galactica," Athena sighed forlornly. 
"A concentrated viper strike on this area might be able to destroy the
whole city and the bomb."
   "We don't have that option though," Boxey opened the door slowly and
pointed his first laser pistol forward as he carefully stepped inside.
   As Athena and Ares waited on the front steps of the cathedral, they
both tried not to let any sense of fear overtake them.
   "Major," Ares pointed down the block.  "I think they'll be here in
five centons."
   Athena squinted and could see the unmistakable forms of Rollins,
Taylor and Nova rounding the corner six blocks away.
   But whether the presence of the Earth natives would be helpful or a
hindrance, remained to be seen.
   

   The gorilla army continued its march deep inside the Forbidden Zone,
leaving the greenery of the jungles bordering Ape City far behind them. 
Already, Dr. Zaius could feel the heat starting to bother his aged body
ever so slightly.  He detached the water container from the side of his
mount and took a careful swallow.
   "Suggestions, Dr. Zaius?" Ursus spoke up as he rode alongside the
orangutan.
   The Chief Scientist glared slightly at him.  "You ask me for
suggestions, General?"
   "You have already indicated that you know a great deal about ancient
human civilizations within the Forbidden Zone, Doctor," Ursus retorted
sharply.  "If any of us are best qualified to pinpoint the proper place
to seek the human civilization out, it is you."
   First he objected to my presence, and now when his thickheaded skull
can't come up with a solution, then he turns to me for help, Zaius
thought with disgust.  Gorillas are the stupidest class of ape there
ever was.
   "Very well, General," when he spoke, it was thoroughly polite.  "The
Unknown Scrolls indicate that a major city lies in that direction
beyond the cliff." he pointed ahead where one mountain peak seemed to
tower above all others. "If we reach the top, we might be able to
establish some kind of visual contact."
   The gorilla general nodded and then turned around to face the column
of several hundred horseback soldiers behind him.  "Increase speed in
the name of the Lawgiver!  The enemy shall soon be at hand!"
   The horses picked up their pace and were soon advancing across the
rocky, sandy surface of the Forbidden Zone in the direction of the
nearby cliff.  A half hour later, they reached the base and began to
move up the incline with careful, methodical precision.
   It took another half hour for the lead horses of Zaius and Ursus to
reach the top.  The gorilla general began to view the vast panorama
with an air of contempt.
   "I see nothing!" he declared.  "Perhaps those Scrolls are not as
worth as much as you suggest!"
   Zaius took out his binoculars and focused his attention to the
south.
   "I suggest you reconsider your statement, General Ursus," the Chief
Scientist said dryly.  "Look to the south."
   Ursus took the binoculars from Zaius and looked down.  Far below, he
could see the twisted shapes of what looked like buildings, rising as
high as three hundred feet from the surface level.  They were clustered
together in an orderly design and bordered what looked like the remains
of what had once been a large area of greenery.  But whatever had once
flourished in the green area had long ago gone dead and stagnant.  Only
the empty shells of dead trees remained.
   "So you were right, Dr. Zaius," Ursus was impressed.  "It is clearly
a city."
   "And look how the remains extend far back to where that rock
formation begins, General," Zaius pointed.  "It would seem that more of
that city is buried underneath the rock formation."
   "Are you sure of that?"
   "Look beyond," Zaius kept pointing.  "At least several miles beyond
where the rock formation buries this city, one of it's taller towers
still manages to penetrate above the surface."
   Ursus adjusted the focus on his binoculars so that they were  now
trained on the distant shape of the top section of the Empire State
Building.
   "Yes," the general nodded again.  "Yes, unquestionably a sign of a
vast city beneath the surface, and...." he trailed off and a frown
creased his furry brow.  "I'm in need of magnification enhancers!"
   "You see something else?" the Chief Scientist inquired.
   "Yes," Ursus said.  "Something that might...." he paused and took
the attachment that Colonel Urko had offered, fastening it to the end
of his binoculars. It would now increase the magnification factor of
the device by ten times the normal strength.
   A second later, the gorilla general let out an excited burst. "By
the Lawgiver!"
   "What do you see?" Dr. Zaius leaned forward.
   "The horseless vehicle from yesterday!" Ursus handed the device to
the Chief Scientist.  "This city is clearly the home base for these
demons!"
   "You're sure it's the same vehicle?"
   "Positive!" Ursus handed the binoculars to his deputy, "Urko, is
that not the same horseless vehicle we confronted yesterday?"
   The gorilla colonel looked through the device and nodded, "It is,
sir.  Unquestionably the same."
   "Our quarry lies within the walls of that city below," the general
gazed down at the exposed remains of a city that he had no way of
knowing had once been called New York, and that the exposed areas
comprised locations that had been known as Harlem, the Upper West Side
and Central Park, and landmarks like Columbia University and Grant's
Tomb.  "We must advance upon her immediately!"
   Without waiting for any response from Dr. Zaius, Ursus unsheathed
his battle sword and raised it in triumphantly.  His horse began to
negotiate the descent down the cliff toward the distant remains of
northern Manhattan, followed by the rest of the gorilla army.


   "Entering outer atmosphere, Commander," Starbuck said as he guided
the shuttle in.  "We should be on the ground in less than five
centons."
   "Are you locked on to the coordinates of the siminoid city?" Apollo
asked.  He had found Sire Antipas's presence so annoying that he'd
decided to spend the rest of the trip in the vacant co-pilot's seat.
   "Affirmative," Starbuck nodded and then hesitated for an instant,
"Commander, request permission to scan for Athena's homing beacon."
   "Permission granted," Apollo said without looking at him and then
abruptly held up a finger.  "However, irregardless of where they are,
they are not the first priority of this mission, Starbuck.  And don't
forget that."
   Starbuck felt the inner disgust rising inside him a bit.  "Yes sir,"
it was a struggle to keep his voice even.  In all the yahrens that he'd
known Apollo, this was the first time he'd ever thought of him as a man
who'd allowed command to make him forget all the emotions and instincts
of a fighter pilot.  And as far as Starbuck was concerned that change
in attitude was the very reason why he'd never harbored high command
ambitions of his own. 
   He flicked a switch and an instant later saw a blip on one side of
his computer monitor.
   "I've got them, Commander," he said with some relief.  "Their signal
puts them about thirty to fifty kilometers east of the siminoid city."
he frowned slightly, "If this is correct though, the landram is at a
dead stop right now."
   "Maybe they've found something on foot to investigate," Apollo
mused.  "Either way, we'll certainly check it out once our main mission
is done."
   "Do you think we should wait on that, Commander?" Starbuck found it
impossible not to give up trying.  Especially when there were people
involved who meant something to him like Athena and Boxey.  It was hard
for him to fathom Apollo not feeling likewise when they were both
closer to him through ties of family and blood.
   Apollo finally looked Starbuck in the eye with the coldest
expression the grizzled captain could ever recall seeing.  "Starbuck,"
he kept his voice a low whisper so no one else could hear, "If you so
much as say one more word about Athena and Boxey and try to play off my
concern for them as a reason for sabotaging a mission that concerns our
entire population, I will personally revoke your commission and see to
it that you spend the rest of your life running operations on the
Sanitation ship.  We will deal with them in due course,
and.....not.....before." he slowed down his delivery on purpose to
emphasize each of the final words.
   Starbuck kept his expression placid, wondering if he was talking to
a genuine stranger, "Yes sir." he turned back to the readout.  "Three
centons now." 


   As soon as Boxey was inside the Cathedral, he immediately crouched
low in the hope that no one inside would notice him.  To his relief,
there was no one in the narthex area that lay between the door and the
sanctuary.
   Now that he was in, the noise of the discordant playing on the organ
had grown to deafening levels, and with it, the cacophonous, unrhythmic
chants of all the people seated in the sanctuary pews.
   "The Holy Bomb that made us all, shall destroy all corruption and
make things right anew."
   Boxey stealthily made his way over to a pillar and with his pistol
raised, hid behind it, keeping himself out of sight from anyone in the
sanctuary.  He cocked his head briefly so he could get a clear view of
the object that held the fate of the entire planet in the balance.
   He could see Mendez seated in front of the organ, his hands moving
across it in a haphazard fashion, all the while never taking his eyes
off the imposing form of the Alpha-Omega bomb perched next to the organ
on the main altar.  It was clear that the mutant leader was leading his
people in their ritualistic singing and chanting of praise to the
object that they venerated.
   "As things were in the beginning, they now once again shall forever
be.  World made pure again. Amen.  Amen."
   The last note of the unholy hymn sustained itself for what seemed
like an eternity to Boxey.  Finally, when it died down, a ghostly hush
seemed to come over the sanctuary, punctuated only by the sound of
Mendez rising from the organ and walking five steps over to a podium
that looked out to the entire congregation.
   "The Ceremony of Holy Purification now enters its third and final
phase, with a reading from the testament of Mendez II, greatest of all
teachers, priests and leaders."
   He opened a thickly bound volume and began to read in the hushed,
reverent tone that reminded Boxey of how Adama would read aloud
passages from the Book of the Word at ceremonial functions aboard the
Galactica.
   "Blessed be the Bomb Everlasting, the one true God that made us all,
and inspired us to an existence of purity and nobility greater than
that of any other living creature.  His Holy Terror is our shield and
strength from the forces of all evil and contamination.  Let all those
who seek to defile our society be warned that the Judgment of the true
God shall be their doom."
   The congregation then began to speak in unison.
   "His wrath is great, and knows no limit.  Unto the ends of the
Earth, shall his will be known." 
   "In the final Judgment, the heavens shall declare the glory of the
Bomb Everlasting, and all the demons of the firmament shall know the
pain borne by their corruption and transgressions."
   "And the faithful shall praise him and take comfort in his strength,
for the Bomb Everlasting is the great redeemer."  
   The mutant leader moved back to the organ and pressed one of the
keys.  The low tone of a bass note filled the sanctuary for nearly a
full centon.  When Mendez released his hold, he turned his reverent
gaze upon the Alpha-Omega bomb.  So too did all the heads in the
chamber.
   "The time has come to reveal our true selves to our God!"
   Boxey felt his skin crawl as he saw thousands of pairs of hands
reach up to their heads.  Slowly, each member of the mutant population
began to peel off the masks they wore that hid the effects of
generations of exposure to radiation poisoning. At the head of the
sanctuary, Mendez was doing likewise.  The Galactica warrior tried to
avoid looking at any of them, not wanting to see the same repulsive
sight of the mutants true form that he had seen before in his cell,
when the dying Melchior had ripped off his mask.  Instead, he focused
his eyes on the silver missile, and saw that at it's tail-end, right
above the ancient symbols that he recognized as the Sagitarian
language, and which the Earth natives had called the Greek language,
there were several lights blinking that had been inactive before.
   The warrior shot a glance back at the organ, as he suddenly realized
that the controls to the weapon of destruction had to be there. 
Perhaps tied into a combination of keys played.
   In an instant, he realized that he needed to take one awful chance
that could very well lead to the outcome he was trying to prevent.  The
obvious answer was to train his laser pistol on the organ and shoot at
it until his power was drained.  The simplest answer to the problem
indicated that if he did that, he would shoot out the control lines
that provided power to the Alpha-Omega Bomb, and render it incapable of
being activated.
   But.....there was also a dangerous risk to that quick, easy
solution.  The risk that in shooting at the control console on the
organ, his laser blasts might activate a self-defense mechanism that
would automatically activate the terrible weapon of doomsday and bring
about the end for what was left of the Earth.
   He glanced back at Mendez and saw that the mutant leader had
finished removing his mask, and had tossed it aside.  It took Boxey all
the self-control to keep himself from vomiting again in revulsion over
the scarred mass of deformed tissue that now looked out to the rest of
the mutant population.  All of whom had now finished removing their
masks as well, and had tossed them into the aisles separating the pew
benches.
   "The moment has arrived," Mendez said with reverence.  "The moment
when all things pass into the control of the true God.  Soon, we shall
all know the reward of being faithful to his word against the forces of
contamination and darkness."
   "Glory be to the Bomb and the Holy FalloutBAs things were in the
beginning, they now once again forever shall be.  World made pure
again.  Amen."
   Mendez started to move back from the podium toward the organ.  Boxey
realized that his decision about what to do had to come now.  It was
all too clear that the mutant leader was about to do whatever would set
the bomb off after 2000 years of silent vigil.
   Boxey jumped out from behind the pillar and shouted at the top of
his voice, "Athena, get inside!  Get inside!"
   And then, the Galactica warrior began charging into the sanctuary
like an out-of-control beast, opening fire directly at Mendez.  The
laser blasts instantly struck the mutant leader right in the center of
his twisted face.

   As soon as Taylor felt Nova's body go into another series of
involuntary jerkings, he quickly looked into her eyes and saw an
expression of intense, unbearable pain that she had undoubtedly never
experienced anything like before.
   "Okay, that's enough," he said to Rollins, who still held Nova by
the other arm.  "We can't move her anymore.  I think this has to be
it."
   The two astronauts set her down in the open doorway of a building
directly across the street from St. Patrick's Cathedral. As Rollins
helped prop Nova into a comfortable position, he glanced over at the
church and could see Athena and Ares standing in front of the great
bronze doors, their bodies pressed against them as though they were
trying to listen in on what was happening inside.
   "I think they're going to need my help," Rollins said.  "George, I'm
going to have to leave you and Nova here for now."
   "I understand," Taylor didn't look at him as he squeezed Nova's hand
and began to gently remove her garments.
   As Rollins got to his feet, his eyes widened when he saw Athena and
Ares abruptly pull open the bronze door and disappear inside the house
of worship.  Without saying another word, the uniformed astronaut
promptly dashed across the street with his laser pistol raised.


   To Boxey's amazement, none of the massive crowd of mutants bothered
to stop him as he reached the altar where Mendez's lifeless body had
collapsed to the floor.  With his pistol raised, he stood at the podium
where the mutant leader had spoken from and looked out at the
congregation.  The ugly, scarred faces of three thousand mutants stared
back at him with expressions of massive indifference.  Not saying a
word.  Not uttering a sound.
   The lack of any kind of reaction was what baffled Boxey the most. 
Surely the sight of their leader, shot dead in the midst of a sacred
ceremony would provoke outrage?  Would it not provide them with an
excuse to rush down on him and try to stop him?
   Why didn't they move?
   At the back end, he heard the frantic footsteps of Athena and Ares
as they entered the chamber.
   "Boxey?" Athena called out.
   "Over here," her nephew motioned with a wave of his pistol.  "Get up
here, quickly."
   The two warriors felt their jaws open in numb, revolted shock at the
sight of the mutant congregation, each one of their scarred faces
staring at them with the same indifference with which they stared at
Boxey.  It caused them to slacken their pace as they made their way
toward the back where Boxey stood waiting.
   "What's going on?" Athena asked.  "Did you secure it?"
   "Not entirely," Boxey said.  "I've killed their leader, but the
controls for this thing are still active.  And don't ask me why these
clowns haven't rushed me or done anything to stop us."
   Athena was about to step up to the altar, when the sound of frantic
footsteps again filled the sanctuary.
   "What's happening?" Rollins called out as he started to move
forward.  "WhatC"
   Suddenly, the eyes of every mutant in the sanctuary closed shut and
a loud humming sound filled the cavernous interior.
   "Their mental powers!" Boxey shouted.  "Block them out! Illusion! 
Non-existent!  Non-existent!"
   Athena and Ares both shut their eyes and found themselves crowding
their minds as best they could to block out the influences.  For Ares,
who had never gone through the training program of mental
concentration, it was a struggle at first, and he gasped several times
as he felt the effect of the torturous sonic pulses seep through from
time to time.
   The three warriors then opened their eyes and let out a collective
sigh of relief.
   "You were right, Major," the security guard said.  "It didn't
require as much effort as I----"
   Ares never got to finish his sentence.  A sudden blast from a laser
pistol struck him in the back and he collapsed to the floor.
   Athena and Boxey spun around and saw with horror that Rollins was
walking toward them with a vacant, glassy-eyed expression, his laser
pistol still cocked in the position it had been in when he opened fire
on Ares.
   "Colonel!" Athena shouted.
   With no comprehension in his face, the Air Force colonel opened fire
again.  Athena dropped to the ground and saw the laser streaks go
directly over her head, where they struck the back wall of the
sanctuary, just three feet from the missile.
   Boxey was forced to crouch behind the podium to shield himself from
the laser fire, and he clenched his teeth in disgust.  Damn, he
thought.  They knew we were immune so they waited for either Rollins or
Taylor to show up.  Of all the stupid..... Even in their total madness,
there was logical method in every one of the mutants' actions.
   Another blast from Rollins' gun streaked over Boxey's head.
   "Athena!" he called out.  "Do you know if his gun is set on kill or
stun?"
   Five feet away, the major was still sprawled on the floor, not
willing to move a muscle at this point since she was totally exposed to
the astronaut's line of fire.  "They were set on stun earlier, but they
may have gotten him to readjust it!" she managed to respond.
   Boxey readjusted his own weapon to stun and chanced one look out. 
Before he could shoot at Rollins, the astronaut had already opened
fire, causing Boxey to retreat to the safety of his perch behind the
podium once again.
   The lieutenant glanced over to his left and saw the row of mutants
in the front pew leaving their seats and filing their way up toward the
altar.  He immediately realized the full nature of their strategy. 
Controlling Rollins to keep him and Athena distracted, while they
completed the task their fallen leader had set out to perform.
   In the back of his mind, he had tried to harbor one tiny ray of hope
that from the ranks of this mutant population, someone would find the
courage to stand up and defy the established order.  That among one
member of mutant society, some degree of rationality existed that would
provide an opportunity for him to join forces and work together.
   That had not happened.  It was now clear that if there ever had been
any disloyalty or disunity in the ranks of the mutant population, it
had long since been exterminated under the iron grip of each generation
of Mendezes.  The fanatical devotion to the worship of an instrument of
destruction was complete and total for every member of the population. 
   One thing was clear to Boxey.  There wasn't a single redeeming
feature of this twisted offshoot of the Thirteenth Tribe.  Unlike Nova
and the primitives above, where there was reason to be hopeful about a
future where the Colonials attempted to reeducate them.  The mutants
had proved in all of their actions that intelligent savagery was
utterly evil as opposed to the unintelligent savagery of the
primitives.
   He saw the first group reach the altar, headed in the direction of
the organ that controlled the firing mechanism for the Alpha-Omega
Bomb.  With a rising tide of anger, he opened fire at the first group. 
The first three mutants dropped to the floor, but the group behind them
continued to move.
   "Don't even think of it!" he shouted, "You're never going to get
there!"
   "You are mistaken, Lieutenant Boxey," the lilting feminine voice of
Albina spoke up from the second row of mutants that remained standing
in their pew, even though she was totally unrecognizable now that she
had removed the mask of her icy beauty. "We are many, and we shall see
to it that the will of God prevail.  And you can not stop us, so long
as we have Colonel Rollins."
   Abruptly, another laser streak from Rollins's gun shot over both
Athena's and Boxey's head.
   "Athena!" Boxey called out.  "We can't just sit here on our astrums,
we've got to take him out!"
   "You're in a better position than I am, Boxey!" Athena replied
without moving her body.  "The instant I move, I'm an open target!"
   "I've got to keep that console clear of these maniacs!" Boxey opened
fire again and took out the next group of three approaching the organ.
   The dark-haired major finally realized the next move had to come
from her.  She managed to roll over so that she now faced towards the
exit.  Rollins was only ten feet away from her, his gun still pointed
up, his eyes still focused on the podium ahead. 
   Then, Rollins began to move forward, his eyes shifting downward
toward Athena.  His pistol finally lowered and trained itself directly
at her head.
   Athena glanced to her left and became aware of another standing row
of mutants lining the pew, some of them with eyes shut, willing the
desire to destroy inside Rollins.  Others with their gaze fixed
reverently on the Bomb.  She knew she had only an instant to find a way
of making use of their indifference to her.
   The major suddenly bolted to her feet and brought down her laser
pistol on the hairless, scarred head of the first mutant in the aisle. 
Before his body collapsed, she grabbed hold of him and thrust herself
in back of his unconscious form, just as a blast from Rollins' pistol
struck the mutant's body, where she'd been standing one micron before.
   It took all her strength to keep from letting go as she moved
forward, using the body as a shield.  She did a mental gauge of where
Rollins had to be standing, and then shoved the limp body of the mutant
forward with all her strength.
   Athena had time to see the body crash against Rollins and knock the
astronaut off-balance.  She leapt forward and delivered a karate blow
to his back that knocked Rollins into total unconsciousness.
   "Athena, help!" Boxey shouted.  "There's too many of them
approaching the console!"
   Athena grabbed Rollins' pistol and then detached the one she'd taken
earlier from Ares.  Holding one in each hand she then opened fire at
the column approaching the organ with all her energy.  Boxey got to his
feet and also trained his fire on the group.
   Mutants by the dozen literally fell underneath the combined
firepower of the two warriors.  Finally, Boxey was able to move up to
the organ and position himself in front of it.
   "Boxey!" Athena said as she drew up to the altar.  "That pillar in
front!  Try to loosen it and make it act as a barrier!"
   Her nephew looked over and saw the marble pillar next to the front
row of pews.  He trained his laser on the upper section and made sure
the setting was at the maximum level.  After eight shots, it finally
broke loose from the ceiling post and collapsed in front of the pew,
blocking all access to the organ console from that side.
   Athena looked out at the rest of the mutant congregation, which
still numbered more than two thousand.  Some of them had moved out of
their rows and were beginning to approach the altar from the other
side, while the majority remained frozen and indifferent.  With an
increasing level of disgust, Athena trained her first pistol on the
second group and fell more than a dozen within mere microns.
   "Okay, that's enough!" she shouted angrily.  "Don't even try to come
any closer, because it's not going to do you any good.  Your illusory
powers have no effect on us, and if any of you move toward this
console, you're dead like the rest of your people!"
   Albina and the fat man stepped forward over a number of motionless
mutant bodies to the center aisle, and glared at the two warriors with
contempt.
   "You pretend to act so noble and superior," Albina said.  "Yet how
much blood is now on your hands?"
   Boxey stepped up alongside his aunt and felt like spitting on the
mutant.  "Spilling your blood to save the lives of others more worthy
of living than your kind ever will be, is one thing that's never going
to trouble my conscience."
   "Your words condemn yourselves and your people."
   "Spare me your felgercarb," Boxey snorted.  "I came here in
friendship.  I wanted to see your people as fellow brothers of man. 
And in the process, you gave me a graphic example of what happens when
man loses his sense of true morality and substitutes a false morality
for it."
   "To you it is false!" the fat man retorted.  "But to us it is the
purest form of life ever devised.  And you dare to impose your own ways
upon us?"
   "When you threaten the lives of others who did you no harm, then you
become a force for evil that must be destroyed," Boxey pointed his
laser pistol at them.  "Unless you wish to change your ways in the name
of true peace, and true brotherhood."
   "We shall never abandon the principles embodied by the Bomb
Everlasting!" Albina shouted defiantly.  "And you shall see the power
of the Bomb purge this world of your likes, along with the inferior
subhumans and barbarous apes of above!"
   Her words were more than enough for Boxey.  Without any hesitation,
he unleashed another barrage of laser fire into both Albina and the fat
man.  The last two survivors of Mendez's inner circle had now fallen as
well.
   He then looked out at the rest of the congregation.  "If you value
your lives, get out of here," the warrior said with menace.  "This bomb
is going to be destroyed, and your kind is never going to threaten the
Earth again in the name of a god that doesn't exist.  Your god is
beaten because he is false!  False, like all of your powers!"
   Suddenly, one of the mutants opened his eyes and shouted with
anguish, "Nooooooooo!"
   "Your whole existence is worthless!" Boxey realized he'd finally
found a weakness in the mutant psyche.  "You have been beaten by powers
greater and nobler than your own!  Your reason for being is worthless!"
   More of the mutants began to open their eyes and clasp their
deformed heads, moaning in both anguish and sorrow, "Noooooooooooo!"
   Athena jumped in as well.  "Your doctrines are weak because they are
false.  Your teachings are a lie.  Your god is a fraud.  Why did your
god not protect this sanctuary from those who could overcome your false
powers?"
   The high-pitched no had now turned into a sustained scream   as all
of the remaining mutants clasped at their heads.
   Suddenly, a group of mutants in the back row began bolting toward
the exit.  A chain reaction set in and all of them began to scatter
from the Cathedral in all different directions.  Some of them toward
the main exit that led out to the streets of Manhattan.  Others toward
the tunnels that led to the private dwellings.  Within five centons,
the entire throng of two thousand odd mutants were gone altogether,
leaving the Galactica warriors all alone with the dead and unconscious.
   Athena almost felt too numb to say anything.  Finally, she forced
herself to step down from the sanctuary and make her way through the
bodies of the dead mutants to where Ares lay.
   "How is he?" a spent Boxey forced his words out.
   "He's alive," Athena sighed with relief.  "The Colonel's setting was
still on stun."
   "And Rollins?"
   She went over to where the Air Force colonel lay and took his pulse. 
"He'll be out for at least a centar."
   "Go and out see if Taylor's still there." Boxey sat down in the
organist's seat and eyed the keys and console.  "He might have some
idea of how this whole thing operates.  I wouldn't risk touching this
myself for a micron."
   Athena nodded, "Be on your guard in case one of them comes back."
   "They won't get anywhere," Boxey held his pistol with determination. 
"If I have to slaughter the rest of them to keep them away from this
thing, I'll do it."


   When Athena stepped outside the Cathedral, she wasted no time
sprinting across the street to the building where Taylor lay huddled in
the collapsed doorway.
   "Colonel Taylor?"
   Taylor turned around and let out an enormous sigh of relief.  "Thank
God, it's you."
   It was then that Athena saw Nova lying on the floor with her head
propped against the doorway frame.  Her whole expression seemed relaxed
and content as she held a crying baby in her arms.
   "It's a girl," Taylor managed to smile.  "It happened about five
minutes ago.  And then, I heard this horrible noise and I saw all those
ugly bastards running into the streets screaming like madmen!  I
thought for sure they'd come over and kill us on the spot, but....." he
trailed off, as he tried to come to terms with the new situation.
   "Which direction did they go?"
   Taylor motioned his hand up Fifth Avenue, "North.  The opposite
direction you came from."
   Athena knelt beside Taylor and looked down at Nova and her baby. 
The child had yet to be cleaned and still had her umbilical cord
attached.  Apart from that, it looked perfectly normal and healthy,
with blue eyes just like her father's and a full head of brown hair
similar to her mother's.  Instinctively, Athena removed her flight
jacket and then helped wrap the baby inside it.
   "Congratulations," Athena said.  "Decided on a name?"
   "Not yet," Taylor said. "Not yet."
   "We should try and get them inside the Cathedral where it's more
comfortable."  Athena said.
   "What about the bomb?" Taylor asked with concern.
   "It's secure for now, but the systems are still active.  We won't be
entirely safe until we make sure it can do no possible harm at all."
she paused.  "We need you to help us study the mechanisms, Colonel."
   "What about Colonel Rollins?" his concern increased.
   "Unconscious for now, but he'll be all right.  But the sooner we get
to work on this, the better."
   Taylor nodded and then whispered tenderly in Nova's ear, "Nova. 
Nova, listen.  We need to get inside.  We're going to help you and the
baby inside."
   She looked up at him and for the first time since the days before
they had been captured by the mutants, saw her smile.
   "Tay....lor," she spoke his name again.
   "Yes," Taylor felt the sensation of contentment he'd known during
those three days after leaving the Statue Of Liberty behind coming back
for the first time as he squeezed her hand.
   "Taylor.  Taylor love Nova."
   Nova nodded her head slowly, and then another word forced itself out
of her throat.  "No....va."  it seemingly took all her strength and
energy to say it.  "No...va.....love....Tay....lor."
   Athena found herself watching and for the first time feeling a
measure of hope about the future of Earth.  Taylor's relationship with
Nova was proof enough that the primitives were capable of reacquiring
their intelligence and their greatness for future generations.
   But of course, there remained the troubling question of what to do
about the siminoids.  As far as she was concerned though, after what
she'd been through with the mutants, handling the siminoids would be
much easier.  At the very least, the siminoids didn't possess the
capability to destroy the entire world.
   As soon as Taylor had helped put Nova's skimpy garments back on, he
and Athena grabbed hold of her and managed to lift her to her feet.  As
Nova kept clasping her baby to her, they managed to guide her over to
the Cathedral and inside.
   "They all headed north, you said?" Athena idly inquired as the
bronze doors closed behind them.
   "North."
   "What's in that direction?"
   "More ruins of the city.  I never got to find out how much of that
region is intact."
   "Well whatever the case, it looks like the mutants won't be our
problem any longer."
   They entered the sanctuary, where Boxey was pacing back and forth
across the altar with the careful watch of a sentry.  When he saw Nova
holding her baby, the warrior relaxed slightly.
   "Congratulations, Colonel Taylor," Boxey smiled thinly.  "Boy or
girl?"
   "Girl," Taylor said and let out an ironic chuckle.  "I think I'll
call her Eve."
   "Any special reason?"
   "In a way," Taylor didn't feel like explaining a Biblical allusion
at the moment, as he reached the altar and stepped up.
   "Incidentally, I owe you an apology," Boxey added, "If you'd been
here, the mutants would have likely made use of you and made it
impossible for Athena and me to subdue them."
   "I'm glad you see it that way," the astronaut sighed.  "Okay, what
is it about the bomb you need to know?"
   "Any way of deactivating its control components."
   "Okay, let's have a look," Taylor went over to the silver missile
and began a visual inspection of the tail fins.
   As Taylor and Boxey began their work, Athena had helped Nova into
one of the empty pew benches.  She then went over to the unconscious
forms of Ares and Rollins, and then one at a time pulled them over to
the bench next to Nova, so they could be more comfortable while they
remained unconscious.
   Once she was through, the dark-haired major sat down in the front
row bench, and allowed herself to relax for the first time in many long
centars.  As she reclined against the bench, she found her eyes drawn
to the Alpha-Omega Bomb, staring intently at it in deep contemplation.
   The germ of an idea was forming in her mind.  An idea that seemed
too crazy to rationally consider, but one that carried too many
potential ramifications for the plight of her people to brush aside. 
For if the idea could be successfully implemented, then a problem far
bigger than the viability of Earth for settlement, and far bigger than
the siminoids, conceivably could be solved at long last.


   As the horses of the gorilla army marched through the ruins of
northern Manhattan and proceeded south, the riders found themselves
fascinated by the sight of the tall buildings around them, stretching
to heights that no ape had ever dreamed could be reached.  It finally
took two stiff blasts on the battle horn at General Ursus's order to
get them to resume a straight-line formation and keep their attention
forward at all times. 
   Dr. Zaius was the only member of the party totally unsurprised by
the spectacle of the crumbling towers.  He was the only one who already
knew they had to be here.  For he alone, as Chief Defender of the Faith
had seen ancient photographs of this city during its days of glory and
power in the Unknown Scrolls.  He could still recall his shock when he
had read the scrolls and seen the pictures in accordance with ancient
tradition on the day he had become Chief Defender.  They served as the
most powerful reminder of why man was to be despised and feared should
intelligent humans ever appear again.  For only a race that was cursed
could have built so many wonderful things beyond the imagination of the
ape mind and turned it into a wasteland through their own folly.
   "We will soon be underneath the rock formation," Ursus noted. 
"Soon, we shall find their lair and exterminate them!"
   Moments later, the bright midday sun had disappeared from overhead,
replaced only by the vast gray expanse of the rock formation towering
one thousand feet above them.  It was as though they had entered a vast
amphitheater with a high beamed ceiling extending as far as the eye
could see.  The scientist in Zaius considered it amazing that such an
impressive natural formation could have been created over the centuries
without collapsing inward and destroying the rest of the city that lay
underneath.
   "Look!" Colonel Urko suddenly pointed.  "Coming towards us!"
   "All units halt!" Ursus shouted as he pulled at the reins of his
horse and came to a stop.  "Binoculars!"
   Urko handed a pair to the general.  As Ursus focused the device down
the avenue, the colonel could barely conceal his anxiousness.  "It
looks like a hoard of charging humans!"
   The gorilla general nodded.  "Yes....by the Lawgiver it's as though
there's hundreds of them massing for a charge!  And their faces!  
They're...." he lowered them, too repulsed to look at the sight any
longer.  "All units, prepare to open fire on my command!  Do not let up
until all of them are dead!"
   "Ursus!" Dr. Zaius protested.  "Must I remind you of the chain of
command?"
   "I have no time to argue tactics with you, Dr. Zaius!  It is all too
clear that this is a force that does not desire any negotiations!  We
must kill them all!"
   "They continue to advance, sir!" one of the other gorilla soldiers
shouted with a rising edge of panic.  "Less than a mile and closing!"
   "Line up in formation!" the columns of horses broke from their
single-file heading and now lined up across the avenue in rows of more
than twenty across.
   "About half a mile and still closing!" the tension was rising in
Urko's voice.
   "Raise arms!"
   From the first row of gorilla soldiers, twenty rifles now pointed
directly down the avenue toward the hoard that grew closer and more
distinct.  They were now distinct enough for Dr. Zaius to make out
their faces and he too, almost grew ill from the sight.
   "My apologies General," he said.  "Your instincts are quite sound."
   The gorilla general looked back at the orangutan with smug
satisfaction.  "I appreciate your compliment, Dr. Zaius."  He then
returned his gaze to the charging hoard that was now no more than 500
yards away.  The size of the crowd seemed massive by simian standards.
   "Take aim!" Ursus shouted.
   The twenty gorillas lined up in the front row all had their thick,
hairy fingers wrapped about the trigger of their rifles.
   Closer the hoard approached.  Zaius could hear them moaning some
indecipherable wail, mixed with the word 'No!'.  It was by far the most
unpleasant noise he'd ever heard in his more than sixty years of life.
   "Fire!"
   The first blast of rifle fire rained down on the mob of mutants with
deadly results.  The entire first row dropped and then like a row of
dominos, the rest that hadn't felt the lethal impact of a lead
projectile in their bodies collided and collapsed to the pavement in
disorganized chaos.
   For five minutes, the gorilla army kept up its lethal barrage of
gunfire.  When the first row had expended their rounds, they peeled off
to the side and the second row of twenty moved into place to open fire
anew.
   The intense barrage of gunfire echoed down the avenue and off the
sides of the tall buildings with a deafening roar that like the moaning
before was unlike anything Zaius had heard in his life.  And through it
all, body after body of the charging mutants dropped to the pavement,
with massive rivers of crimson blood staining their white robes,
forming large puddles across the street and on the sidewalk.
   It soon reached a point where the clouds of gunpowder from the rifle
barrage made it impossible for Ursus and Zaius to see the hoard any
longer.  The gorilla general promptly lifted his arm and shouted,
"Cease fire!"
   An eerie hush now came over as the gorillas waited for the smoke to
clear.  When it finally did, they saw a massive pile of red-stained
bodies, the blood still pouring from multiple bullet wounds in each of
them, and no movement at all.
   "We have felled them all!" Ursus smiled in triumph.  "The Lawgiver
has protected us!  We have met the humans and utterly defeated them!"
   A boisterous cheer went up from all of the members of the gorilla
army, with each waving their rifle triumphantly above their heads.
   "Shall we advance further to the heart of their capitol, General?"
Urko looked over.
   "No!" Dr. Zaius abruptly jumped in.
   Ursus glared at the elderly orangutan.  "Dr. Zaius, if you intend to
start exercising your strategic authority, this is hardly the time to
be calling for a retreat!"
   "You fool," the Chief Scientist glared back at him.  "Didn't you
notice that not one of those humans was carrying a fire gun?"
   "So?"
   "Then it should be obvious to you my dear Ursus, that their refusal
to arm themselves during a mad charge against us can only mean one of
two things in which prudence is the wisest solution."
   "Explain yourself!" Ursus demanded.
   "The first possibility is that this unarmed mob is a diversion
designed to lull us into a false sense of security.  If so, we would be
hopelessly destroyed by larger numbers if we penetrate deeper."
   "Preposterous!" the general snorted.  "Coming from you, the Chief
Defender of the Faith, you should have more confidence that the
Lawgiver's protection will be with us from a further advance."
   "To achieve what end?" Dr. Zaius retorted.  "Let's assume then that
the rest of the humans are as weak as this ugly mob.  Well, the sight
of their comrades all dead should be a powerful enough signal to them
that any hopes they entertain of intruding on our domain should be put
aside forever.  We've done all that we need to do if that is what we
face."
   "I'm not prepared to let one single human from this colony escape!"
   "General Ursus, let me remind you of something!" the elderly
orangutan raised his voice.  "This mission is purely defensive in
nature, designed to protect Ape City from any potential threat of
invasion.  We have taken the necessary action that will insure the
safety of Ape City.  What this mission isn't is a sporting exercise. 
You have plenty of time for that with the human scavengers closer to
our own borders.  Now that we've ascertained that whatever human force
here is not to be negotiated with under any circumstances, we must
declare victory and get out now!  Either way, we are victorious!"
   Ursus glared at him, looking ready to defy the Chief Scientist and
signal a new charge deeper into the remains of Manhattan.  The hair on
his brow furrowed repeatedly, indicating the anger he felt inside.
   "Before you do anything else, Ursus, I must remind you again of the
authority our President has invested in me.  Defy me, and I will see to
it that your name is besmirched for all eternity in the annals of ape
history."
   "Sir?" Colonel Urko spoke up, "What do we do?"
   Ursus kept staring at Zaius.  Clearly, he wanted to defy the
orangutan and continue the march.  To a gorilla though, there was
nothing more shameful than the thought of having one's name blackened
by dishonor.  Pride was by far the one thing that rivaled militarism
for the greatest vice in the gorilla psyche.
   Each pair of gorilla eyes was now focused on the general.  They too
understood the dilemma he'd been placed in.
   Finally, Ursus let out a defeated sigh of resignation.  "Very well,
Dr. Zaius," he said and then raised his arm, "We have emerged from this
battle triumphant!  Let us return to Ape City and enjoy the adulation
of our fellow simians!"
   The army made room for Ursus to turn around and begin the procession
back to the north, with Zaius and Urko behind him.  Within moments, the
gorilla army had begun its long journey back to Ape City.


   Two miles south of where the massacre had taken place, a tense quiet
filled St. Patrick's Cathedral as Taylor inspected the components of
the Alpha-Omega Bomb.
   "Okay," he said as he straightened himself.  "I think I've got it
figured out."
   "You're sure?" Boxey felt a tinge of tension rise inside him.  He
didn't want to take any chances of the bomb being accidentally set off.
   "Yes," Taylor nodded firmly.  The Alpha-Omega bomb was an all-too
familiar sight to him.  Five years before he had left on the Project
Magellan expedition, he had been temporarily reassigned from NASA to a
desk job with the Strategic Air Command while he recovered from a back
injury suffered during a Mars flight training session.  During that
tour of duty he had seen one of the original three bombs up-close in
its original mounting at SAC headquarters in Omaha.  He had never
forgot the chill creeping up his back when he heard General Wyckoff,
the SAC commander explain in a totally detached tone of voice what the
bomb was all about and how it worked.  Often, Taylor wondered if that
briefing was what had initially triggered his desire to volunteer for
the Magellan flight.
   "In my time, this bomb could only be activated through a complex
process rooted in sound," he went on, recalling all the details from
that briefing, "Specifically, the voice of the President of the United
States.  I doubt the mutants would have reworked it to be activated by
anything other than a sound procedure."
   "Hence the organ hook-up," Boxey noted.
   "All we need to find is a control cable or circuit connecting the
two," Taylor got to his knees and began inspecting the area between the
silver missile and the organ console.  After a moment of clearing away
dust and debris from the floor, he finally held up a thick plastic
encased cable.
   "This has to be it," Taylor said.
   "And all we have to do is pull out the plug and the bomb can't be
activated?" Boxey wanted to be absolutely certain.  "No hidden booby
traps or anything like that?"
   "Positive," Taylor nodded.  "In this society, where everyone was a
devoted follower and worshiper of this damned thing, they never would
have had to worry about protecting it.  That fit into their whole
philosophy of having no weapons to defend themselves."
   Boxey slapped his hand against his forehead, "I should have thought
of that, but you're right of course.  Why try to destroy all traces of
outside races who visit this place if the bomb had safety mechanisms
against deactivation?"
   "Exactly," Taylor ran his hands over the cable until he came to the
base of the missile.  Finally, he pulled at it with all his strength
until it finally came off in his hands.  When it broke free, Boxey let
out a sigh of relief.  The Alpha-Omega bomb was finally deactivated and
incapable of being set off inside the Cathedral.
   "Okay," the astronaut felt the same level of relief come over him. 
"Now that this sucker can't be set off, we ought to get to work on
taking the damned thing apart so it can never be a menace again to
anyone."
   "No."
   Boxey and Taylor looked back and saw that Athena had risen from her
seat in the front row of pews, where she'd been watching in deep
contemplation.
   "Major," Taylor frowned.  "What are you saying?  We can't let this
thing remain intact.  It has to be destroyed."
   "Perhaps," Athena stepped up to the altar, "But before we decide on
that, I want Boomer and all of his technical crew from the Galactica to
have a good look at this thing first."
   "For what?" the astronaut's eyebrows went up, "Major, this is a
weapon that serves no useful purpose whatsoever."
   "Not on Earth," Athena nodded and kept her eyes locked on the
missile.  "But maybe, just maybe, it can serve a purpose for the
Galactica."
   "Huh?" Taylor was totally befuddled.
   "Boxey," Athena said, "How much firepower do you think we could get
out of a series of missiles, each capable of burning up an entire
planet?"
   A ray of light suddenly dawned on Boxey. "Athena," he said with a
faint smile, "I'm getting the feeling that you're thinking about
gift-wrapping this thing as a present for a certain man whose name
begins with the letter B."
   His aunt looked over and smiled back at him, "It's worth a try,
isn't it?"

                    Chapter Fourteen

   The morning sun shone brightly over Ape City as Cornelius walked
through the main street, trying to let the morning air clear his head
of the throbbing pain he'd felt all night long.  He and Zira had both
felt their sleep interrupted by the sounds of what they knew was the
gorilla army leaving for the Forbidden Zone, and neither of them had
been able to get back to sleep afterwards.  Indeed, his wife had wanted
to run out into the street and voice her protests loudly and it had
taken all his efforts to keep her from following through with her rash
desire.
   Zira, he thought absently to himself as he reached the center of the
city, I love you and adore you but you are so stubborn and impetuous. 
It was enough to make the archeologist wonder if sooner or later, he
wouldn't be able to keep Zira from doing the one thing that would cause
the both of them to end up in prison for real.
   But even if that were to happen, Cornelius was prepared to accept
it.  For all of Zira's idiosyncracies that could annoy him, he couldn't
envision life without her.  Whatever happened to her would ultimately
happen to him.
   He heard what he thought was the sound of a horse and wagon coming
from behind and stepped to one side to wait for it to pass.  But when
he saw no horse and wagon go by, he stopped and turned around.  There
was no vehicle in sight.
   Cornelius frowned and felt his eyes darting about into each of the
streets.  The noise was getting louder yet there was nothing as far as
the eye could see except for the buildings of Ape City and the various
classes of apes milling about.
   Suddenly, he felt a hand grab him from behind.  The archeologist
turned around and saw that it was the scholar, Professor Sylvan.
   "Cornelius," Sylvan was pointing upward, a look of amazement on his
face.  "Do you see it?  Do you see it?"
   "See what?" his frown deepened.  "What's going on?"
   Before Sylvan could answer, all of the other apes who'd been walking
about, chimpanzee, gorilla and orangutan alike had stopped in their
tracks and were pointing up with expressions of total incredulity and
stunned amazement.
   "It's impossible!" an orangutan exclaimed aloud.  "Completely
impossible!"
   Cornelius trained his eyes to the sky and his jaw fell open in
disbelief when he saw streaking across at rapid speed, a square shaped
flying object.  The sunlight shined off a metallic surface, indicating
that it was a constructed machine and not some new species of wingless
bird.
   "By the Lawgiver," he whispered under his breath.  "What Taylor and
Starbuck said about controlled flight is true."
   "And they come at the very moment when our army is away from Ape
City and we are totally defenseless!" an edge of bitterness crept into
the scholar's voice.  "What did I say yesterday, Cornelius?  Your wife
needs to reassess everything She's said up to this point!"
   The archeologist forced himself to lower his head and glared at
Sylvan, "Someone who jumps to conclusions without evaluating all the
evidence is not worthy of being called a scholar, my dear Sylvan."
   "I prefer to make conclusions and stay among the living than be one
who waits too long until he finds himself dead!" Sylvan retorted.  "We
must prepare to defend ourselves and cast aside all insipid doctrines
of chimpanzee pacifism!"
   "Do what you like, Sylvan," Cornelius held his ground, "You do so
with my contempt."
   As the scholar stormed off, Cornelius glanced skyward again and saw
the craft disappear below his line of vision.  It was clearly about to
land just outside Ape City.  He then turned and dashed back to his
house as fast as his legs could carry him.


   "I'm setting us down in a clearing one kilometer from the main
city," Starbuck found himself struggling to keep his tone neutral as he
brought the shuttle into its final descent mode.
   Apollo said nothing as he felt the shuttle touch the surface and
come to a stop.  Once the engines had shut off, he got up from his
chair and faced all of the passengers.
   "The security team will accompany me at the front of the perimeter,"
he said.  "And I will emphasize again that all of the initial talking
is going to be done by me, and me alone."
   "There's no need to repeat yourself for the thousandth time,
Apollo," Sire Antipas spoke up with a thick level of sarcasm.  "I think
that's been clear to all of us for quite some time."
   Siress Tinia glared at her colleague but held her tongue.  In the
back row, Boomer almost felt grateful that he had a paralyzed arm or he
might have been tempted to punch the impetuous councillor the first
chance he could get.
   His angry reaction didn't go unnoticed by Brent.  "Is that one
always a troublemaker for Commander Apollo?" the astronaut leaned over
and inquired.
   "For the most part," the electronics chief nodded.  "He's part of
the price we pay for maintaining some semblance of a democratic order."
   "I know the feeling," Brent chuckled to himself, as memories of how
annoyed he always got whenever a whiny Congressman came down from
Washington to look for ways of undercutting the space program went
through his mind. 
   The hatch door opened as the four security guards stepped up
alongside Apollo, each holding their laser pistols in a relaxed
position.  The Commander was the first to step outside and he stopped
to briefly take in the surroundings, letting the realization that he
had finally lived to set foot on Earth had come to pass.
   "Okay Starbuck," he turned around and called back inside, "Gather
everyone else and let's proceed."
   A centon later the rest of the party had emerged, all of them save
Brent and Starbuck, taking cautious breaths of the air.  Like Apollo,
feeling a brief sense of awe that they were also setting foot at last
on the planet that had been a distant dream for so long.
   "Just one kilometer in that direction," Starbuck pointed beyond the
cluster of trees.
   "Your scanner ready?" Apollo inquired.
   "Affirmative.  No contacts approaching us yet."
   Apollo started to move, followed by the guards, Starbuck and the
rest of the party.  By the time they reached the cluster of trees, they
could look down the hill and see the stone carved buildings of Ape City
beneath them.
   "Incredible," Apollo said with amazement, "No more than late first
millennia by my reckoning."
   "More like mid-first millennia," Boomer spoke up, "Stone-carved
dwellings were the norm in just about every one of the colonies up
through 639 on our calendar."
   "Contacts now going off the scale," Starbuck said as a loud pinging
emitted from his instrument.  "We should have some company any centon
now."
   "Shall we raise weapons?" the lead security guard, Lieutenant  
Pallus inquired.
   "Negative," Apollo said.  "Keep them lowered unless you see
indications they're going to fire a numo volley at us."
   Slowly, the landing party made its way down the hillside toward Ape
City.  It took them more than three centons to reach the bottom of the
hill.  The buildings were now just two hundred feet away, yet there was
no one in sight.
   "Where's that company, Captain?" Sire Antipas sourly inquired.  "It
almost looks like the city's deserted."
   Starbuck shook his head.  "No, they're in there all right.  But for
whatever reason, they're not venturing out."
   "They have to know we're nearby," Apollo said as he cautiously kept
his gaze on the buildings.  "We flew directly over them.  The noise
alone must have attracted attention."
   "There is one possibility, Commander," Starbuck said, deciding that
circumstances now made it safe for him to test the waters.
   "Yes?" Apollo didn't turn around.
   "Assuming they remember everything I told them while I was their
prisoner, they may have put themselves in a defensive mode in the event
they see a flying object for the first time." the grizzled captain then
pointed at the windows of the various buildings.  "I wouldn't be a bit
surprised if there are siminoids with numos at the ready in those
windows there."
   "But obviously given the population level in there, you can't
isolate that, right Starbuck?" Apollo retorted gently.
   "True," Starbuck conceded.  "Still, my recommendation is that we go
in with weapons raised, not lowered."
   "Recommendation noted," the commander said curtly as he resumed
moving forward.
   At a normal walking pace, the group of humans entered the main
street of Ape City.  All of them looking about with puzzled, cautious
expressions at how eerily quiet it was.  Except for themselves, there
was literally no one else in sight.
   "Scanner still indicates that the population is all inside,"
Starbuck finally broke the uneasy silence.
   Apollo looked about from left to right at the various buildings, as
well as the various objects in the street that indicated a hasty
exodus.  An upturned fruit cart.  An empty wagon in the middle of the
street.
   "Raise weapons," he said in a low, calm voice.
   The security guards brought their weapons to a raised position, as
did Starbuck.  Finally, Apollo detached the laser from his belt and did
so too.
   "Apollo?" Antipas inquired with an edge of trepidation.  "What are
we going to do?"
   The commander impatiently waved his arm to indicate silence as he
cautiously moved forward, his eyes now focused on the circular openings
on the upper levels of the various buildings.
   "Hello anyone!" he finally called out.  "We come as friends and mean
no harm!  We only wish to talk!"
   Apollo's words echoed off the stone dwellings, but when they had
died away, there was still no other sound.
   "Commander, we're definitely being watched," Starbuck took a quick
glance at his scanner.  "They must have seen us land and then
barricaded themselves inside.  Sooner or later, they're going to open
fire on us."
   "Perhaps we should retreat for now," Antipas ventured.
   "I'm not giving up on this until something more definite happens!"
Apollo refused to look at either man.  "I came here to talk, and we
don't withdraw until I hear one numo burst."
   Suddenly, to their right they heard the slow creaking noise of a
door opening.  The group of ten humans spun toward it and saw the door
open to reveal two familiar siminoid faces to one member of the party.
   "Commander, those are the two who interrogated me!" Starbuck said.
   "Quickly!" Cornelius motioned.  "Get inside now!  All of you!"
   Apollo didn't hesitate to move toward the door.  The rest of the
party followed suit, save for Sire Antipas who had been completely
taken aback by the sight and sound of a talking siminoid.  He was
slower to follow the group inside the house and had just reached the
open doorway when a loud crack filled the air.
   The nine humans and two chimpanzees looked in horror as they saw the
Council member with his mouth twisted open in agony, stagger slightly
and collapse face forward to the ground, exposing a spreading red stain
on the square of his back.
   "Get him inside!" Apollo shouted as Brent and Lieutenant Pallus
dragged Antipas's body in.  Several more numo shots rang out, but they
managed to slam the door shut before any more of them impacted.  They
could hear them thud against the door outside as Cornelius frantically
put the barrier lock into place.
   "How is he?" Tinia spoke up in horror.
   Apollo knelt down and took the Council member's pulse.  He then got
to his feet and grimly shook his head.  "Died instantly.  Must have
caught him right in the heart."
   "Well, it looks like some things don't change, do they Cornelius?"
Starbuck acidly inquired as he pointed his laser pistol at the
archeologist.
   "Put down your weapon, Captain!  Now!" Apollo barked.  When Starbuck
seemingly refused to do so, he repeated the command decisively, "Now!"
   Finally, Starbuck reluctantly lowered it and moved back alongside
the four security guards.  Tinia, Boomer and Brent stood off on the
other side of the room, with Apollo in the middle of the cluster.  From
each of them came expressions of unease, mistrust, caution, anger and
controlled fury as they all stared piercingly at Cornelius and Zira.
   Apollo stepped forward, his pistol at his side but not yet
reattached to his belt.  "I take it that the two of you have met
Captain Starbuck before?"
   "We have," Zira spoke up.  "I'm Doctor Zira, this is my husband
Doctor Cornelius."
   "Commander Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica and President of the
Colonial Council of Twelve." Apollo decided not to extend his hand just
yet and motioned to his right, "Captain Starbuck, Lieutenant Pallus,
Lieutenant Akhneon, Sergeant Rader, Sergeant Meshach." and then to his
left, "Doctor Boomer our Chief Electronics Specialist, Siress Tinia of
the Council of Twelve and Major Brent, who is a friend of someone else
you've met, Colonel Taylor."
   "I knew there was a connection!" Cornelius exclaimed as soon as he
heard Taylor's name mentioned.
   "A very complicated one, Cornelius," Apollo said, injecting just a
hint of coldness in his tone.  "But we'll discuss that later.  For now,
I want to know who's in charge of your civil government and whether I
should take this senseless murder of one of the members of our Council
as an indication that your people can't be reasoned with."
   "Commander Apollo, I can only speak for Zira and myself, but please
accept our deepest apologies for what happened to your friend. 
Anti-human prejudice unfortunately afflicts some members of our
population more deeply than others."
   "And does that include the government?" Apollo kept the hint of
coldness level, "Because what I find out about your government is going
to have some very important ramifications for the future, Cornelius."
   "Meaning whether or not you choose to destroy our civilization?" 
Cornelius decided to ask the tough questions he would have expected to
hear from the likes of Sylvan or the gorilla class.
   "That is an option that is entirely in the hands of your
government," Apollo dropped the cold hint from his tone.  "As the
leader of 70,000 humans that have traveled a long distance across the
stars, we only wish to settle elsewhere on Earth and live in a mutually
advantageous relationship of friendship with your society.  But if you
choose to let your base instincts toward humanity govern your actions,
then you will leave us no choice but to do what must be done in the
name of protecting human lives." he paused, "I emphasize again that if
such actions do become necessary, it will be entirely as a result of
the choices your government makes."
   Zira looked at each of the nine humans in the room with a mixture of
scientific curiosity and inner turmoil over how to approach them.
   "Look," she spoke out, "As I told Starbuck before, there are
factions in Ape society.  If the decisions were up to sensible thinking
chimpanzees, I can assure you that meeting your people halfway in a
spirit of tolerance, if not friendship, might not be difficult.  But
when we are talking about the government elite run by
orangutans....well, that's just too unpredictable to say what the
reaction might be."
   "I'll only know once I talk to them, Doctor Zira," Apollo folded his
arms.  "Can you bring them to us?"
   "We'll take you to them personally, Commander," Cornelius stepped
toward the door.
   "Just a centon, Cornelius," the commander then held out his hand
indicating Cornelius to stop.  "Since I already know that there are
others out there ready to open fire on us, you'll forgive me if I
insist that we remain here for now."
   "You wouldn't have to worry about that if you're accompanied by us,
Commander," the archeologist tried to sound reassuring.  "The greatest
commandment of our Lawgiver is that Ape may never kill Ape.  If you're
in our protection, no one among those cowards would dare think of
firing again.  That commandment is regarded as sacred among even the
stupidest members of Ape society, whether they're chimpanzee, gorilla
or orangutan."
   The eyes of the other eight humans rested on Apollo, as he took a
cautious breath.  "I trust you Cornelius, and believe what you say
about your doctrines.  But I come from a society where we've learned
not to expect the best behavior among our fellow humans, and I can not
let myself be prepared to assume that the same irrational instincts
that can lead some humans astray will not do likewise among your
people."
   Boomer almost felt the urge to applaud over the almost perfect
manner in which Apollo was practicing the art of diplomacy.  Cordiality
with no hint of naivete.  Willing to be tough without any egotistical
boasting about the superiority of humans.  Only a man who'd learned the
art of diplomacy at the feet of a genius like Adama could have pulled
it off.
   "Commander," Cornelius started and then stopped as he reflected
further on Apollo's word.  "Look," he resumed, "Suppose you and I go
over to meet our President, personally?  I'm sure Zira will keep things
hospitable for the rest of your friends in the meantime."
   Apollo hesitated for only an instant, knowing this required a quick
decision.  "Very well," he decided to be amenable, "You and I together. 
If you would lead the way Cornelius, I'd be happy accompany you."  He
turned to the rest of the party, "All of you are to remain here and
enjoy Dr. Zira's hospitality and treat her with total courtesy."
   Some head nods went up from most of the group.  Starbuck was one of
the exceptions, keeping his gaze on the two chimpanzees who already
knew him with icy skepticism.
   It was enough to make Zira wonder if the humans had their cleavages
as surely as apes seemed to with the stratified class order and the
prejudices that existed between the various factions.  If so, and if
that fact was recognized by those in leadership like Apollo, then it
was easy for her to envision this race of humans as one that could be
embraced as not all that different from the apes in the final analysis.
   But for now, all of that was out of her hands, and she could only
hope that her prejudicial contempt for the orangutans and the Ruling
Class would be proved wrong on this occasion.
   Cornelius opened the thick wooden door, stepped outside and
cautiously motioned Apollo to follow.  As soon as the Commander stepped
outside, Zira closed the door again from the inside.
   Now that she was alone with the other eight humans, she felt a brief
surge of apprehension that she tried to fight off as best she could. 
Feeling discomfort in the presence of humans would send all the wrong
signals, and she was determined to keep any such feelings hidden.
   "So," she said brightly, "Are any of you hungry?  I have some extra
helpings of salad in our preserver."
   "That would be fine, Zira," Siress Tinia stepped forward and decided
that it was up to her to assume the mantle of leadership in Apollo's
absence.  "There obviously isn't enough space for all of us to sit
down, but I think we can manage, can't we?" she then shot a glance at
Starbuck and the security team.  All of them either nodded or remained
indifferent.
   "Doctor Zira," Brent stepped forward and finally decided the time
had come to stop being a passive observer, "The Commander mentioned
that I'm a friend of someone you're already acquainted with.  Colonel
George Taylor.  Maybe the best way to break the ice is for you to tell
us about him?"
   Zira's bright expression increased, "I'd be glad to!  If you're a
friend of Taylor, Mister ahC"
   "Brent," he said. "Major Brent."
   "Well Brent, if you know Taylor then I know we're going to get along
fine!  Taylor was the most remarkable human I've ever met.  Cornelius
and I, we....well we actually came to love him in most ways."
   Again, Boomer found himself impressed with Apollo's acumen in
picking the landing party.  Brent's familiarity with someone these
particular siminoids already knew had paid an important dividend.  It
had defused the tension in the air and could make all of them feel
relaxed in Zira's presence. And make all of them feel at ease about the
prospects of finding a hopeful outcome in dealing with the siminoids.
   Zira, Brent and Tinia disappeared into the kitchen area to get the
food.  The electronics chief moved over to the other side of the room
and gently took his old wingmate aside.
   "I think you may have done them an injustice Starbuck, if they're
the two you met before," he said.  "They seem quite reasonable if you
handle them the right way."
   "Just wait," Starbuck retorted under his breath, "Later, they'll all
show their true colors."
   Boomer stared at him dubiously and then motioned him to come over,
away from the security guards.  "I think you and I should have a
private talk."
   As soon as Boomer and Starbuck were alone on the other side of the
room, the ex-warrior took him aside and said in a dubious tone, "What
the frack's gotten into you, Starbuck?"
   "I don't know what you mean."
   "Cut the felgercarb.  I'm getting the distinct impression that
you're looking for any possible excuse to atomize this entire
settlement and kill every last siminoid."
   "It's going to come to that sooner or later," his tone was defiant.
   "Is it?" Boomer folded his arms, "Tell me something Starbuck, what's
the real reason why you want to destroy this civilization?  Is it to
salve your ego after what happened to you here the other day?"
   The grizzled warrior's face visibly darkened, "Now that's a new low
from someone I thought was my friend."
   "I am your friend," Boomer held his ground.  "And I think you've
always known that I understand you better than Apollo does."
   "Is that a fact," he said sarcastically.
   "You know it's true!" the ex-warrior shot back.  "And Starbuck,
there's one thing a guy like me who never moved up the command level
can spot in an instant, and that's a warrior with wounded pride.  If I
had cubits to bet, I'd wager you want to get even with this race
because of the indignities you got subjected to." he paused, "Something
tells me that would be a bigger sure thing than any tip you ever gave
for winning at the pyramid tables."
   He saw his friend bristle and tense up, but Boomer knew right away
that because Starbuck didn't retort with a remark about being out of
line, that he'd pinpointed things accurately.
   The grizzled lieutenant finally let out a deflated sigh, "Boomer,"
he looked down at the floor, "If you'd only been here..."
   "That doesn't make any difference," Boomer put his hand on his
friend's shoulder, "Starbuck, start thinking about what's more
important for this Fleet we've been fighting to protect all these
yahrens."
   Starbuck finally forced himself to look at him, and realized for the
first time why Apollo's admonitions had been having no effect on him. 
He'd needed to hear the same words from someone who wasn't part of the
command structure and who still thought with the instincts of a warrior
instead.  Boomer, despite being out of the service for ten yahrens, was
still like that.  Not so, Apollo, who'd been forced to abandon his
youthful instincts in order to become an effective part of the command
structure.
   "Maybe you're right," he sighed, "Maybe you're right, Boomer.  IC"
he shook his head, "Let's talk about this another time."
   "Okay," the ex-warrior said, "Just so long as you remember to keep
your head on straight from this centon forward."


   Apollo didn't let himself show any tension as he and Cornelius
walked across the empty main street in the direction of the government
ministry buildings at the other end of the block.  What he needed to do
more than anything else was project strength without being hostile.
   They had gone halfway across the main square, when another loud
crack suddenly filled the air.
   "Get down!" Cornelius pushed him to the ground and then fell on top
of the commander, shielding him instantly from any further gunfire.
   Apollo felt the wind knocked out of him briefly as he felt the force
of the chimpanzee's body knock him down, "What was that about your
Lawgiver's philosophy again?" he said through clenched teeth.
   "Whoever it is won't fire now if he has to risk hitting me,"
Cornelius said and then raised his voice for the benefit of anyone else
who was watching, "Remember, ape must not kill ape!"
   "Don't be too sure, Cornelius!" another voice sounded from somewhere
behind them, "Perhaps the Lawgiver was not wise when it came to
potential traitors!"
   "Friend of yours?" Apollo kept gritting his teeth.
   "Was," Cornelius stressed and then cocked his head behind him,
"Professor Sylvan, you are mad!"
   "I'm not the one who believes in harboring the enemy, Cornelius!  If
I must kill you to save Ape Civilization, then I will not be shamed for
not following an outmoded commandment!" the scholar's voice filled the
empty square. 
   "You won't get away with this, Sylvan!" Cornelius shouted, "All he
wants to do is meet with the President.  You have no right to prevent
that and risk war through rash behavior!"
   "How much further do we have to go?" Apollo felt anxious to get to
his feet and make a run for it.
   "About fifty feet," Cornelius said, "It might be worth making a run
for, since chimpanzees are usually not instinctively good shots."
   "Try telling that to Sire Antipas, the man he already killed,"
Apollo acidly retorted.
   "If he plans to violate our most sacred commandment and open fire on
me, Commander, then we do ourselves no good lying here in the open. 
I'll continue to shield you from behind."
   "Wait until I'm ready," Apollo took a breath and did a mental count
down from three.  When he reached zero, he scrambled to his feet and
made a break for the stone building of the Political Ministry up ahead. 
Cornelius trailed right at his heels and they heard another gun shot
ricochet off the ground behind them as they reached the massive wooden
doors.  Apollo pulled them open and frantically scrambled inside with
Cornelius following.  As soon as they got the door shut, they again
heard the impact of another bullet striking the door outside.
   "Professor Sylvan is more mad than I imagined," Cornelius was out of
breath, "He's now proved that it isn't just gorillas who are tainted by
barbarism."
   "I don't think I want to know what they're like....yet," Apollo
caught his breath and exhaled in relief.
   "I take it you're both here to see me?" a dry voice inquired from
behind them.  They turned around and saw Claudius seated behind his
desk with a totally dispassionate, neutral expression.
   "Yes, Mr. President," Cornelius felt relief that the Ape President
was already there.  "This is the commander of the human colony."
   Apollo straightened his blue uniform and calmly extended his hand,
"Commander Apollo of the Battlestar Galactica and President of the
Colonial Council of Twelve."
   Claudius cautiously extended his own hand, "I am Claudius, President
of the Ape Assembly."  their handshake was short, and not firm.
   "So you are a President too, in your society," Claudius noted as he
resumed his seat, "It would seem then that there are parts of our
societies that have things in common."
   "Apparently," Apollo nodded, "Although that detail would evidently
not impress some members of your population."
   "So it would seem," Claudius admitted, "However Commander, you
should surely understand why the average ape is not likely to have
instinctively friendly feelings toward a human being.  Especially a
human being that can talk and think."
   "I'm afraid I don't, actually," Apollo said, "Whatever conflict your
race has had with human beings in the past was not against my colony. 
My tribe of humans have come a long ways from across space to this
planet only in the last several days."
   The orange-fur on Claudius's face bristled slightly indicating a
bemused, disbelieving expression.  "You flew through space, you say."
   "However difficult a concept that is for you to grasp, Mr.
President, that happens to be the truth.  And I am quite prepared to
prove that to you or any other representative of your government."
   "Mr. President, he's telling the truth," Cornelius said, "I've seen
their vehicle that flies through the air.  So has everyone else who was
out in the main square just ten minutes ago.  This can't be the
creation of a race that's inhabited the same planet as ourselves all
this time or they surely would have made themselves known long ago."
   "Maybe," Claudius leaned back in his chair, "But before I pass
judgment on that, the only question I suppose I should be asking is,
why are you here and what do you want of us?"
   "My colony is a brother tribe of the humans who first settled this
planet many thousands of your years ago, long before any of you
siminoids, or apes as you call yourselves, had the capacity to think or
reason," Apollo began, "When we were forced to flee our home planets,
we hoped to find our lost brother humans in the hopes of finding a new
planet to settle on."
   "Why did you leave?" Claudius interrupted.
   "Because of a race more ruthless and evil than any other that exists
in this universe, and which in time will even threaten your existence."
Apollo emphasized as he then spent the next five minutes restating the
nature of the war between humans and Cylons.  When he was through,
Claudius was still leaning back in his chair, his eyes opened wide in
amazement and slight disbelief.
   "Forgive me if I seem skeptical of you, Commander," he said, "But to
take seriously the idea of a race of....automated machines...."
   "Before today could you take seriously the idea of controlled
flight?" Apollo retorted.  "And before that, the idea of intelligent
humans?"
   "Granted, granted," the ape president waved his hand, "Let's then
assume I believe what you say.  What then do you ask of us?"
   Apollo drew up his shoulders and tried to make certain that the tone
of his voice would be absolutely right for what he had to say now,
"What I am asking, Mr. President, is that you and your people make it
possible for a constructive relationship to exist between human and
ape."
   "How?" Claudius interjected with a hint of sourness, "By submitting
ourselves to your authority in every way?"
   "No," Apollo shook his head, "What I'm talking about is a
relationship based on trust, mutual cooperation and hopefully, over
time, one based on friendship."
   "And how do you propose we achieve that?"
   "Quite simple," Apollo said, "One, our colony will not attempt to
infringe on your surrounding territory.  This planet is vast, and your
colony is quite small when one takes into account the size of the
entire planet.  There are certainly other fertile regions elsewhere
where our colony can establish itself and not pose any threat to you."
   Claudius put a hand under his chin, "Go on."
   "Two, I would request that you release all humans you hold in
captivity and allow us to round up all others in the surrounding
environs for safe transport to wherever else on the planet we choose to
settle.  We are prepared to let these primitive humans become our
responsibility, and not yours."
   "You would take them all, you say?" Claudius didn't want to reveal
his impressment, but even Cornelius could tell that the ape president
hadn't been able to conceal it.  "Every last human in the surrounding
territories, you would take charge of?"
   "Every last one," Apollo said firmly.
   Claudius drummed his furry fingers on the table, "How can I assume
that you would not be tempted to make use of them as part of a vast
army that might descend on us one day in the future?"
   "Mr. President, if that were my desire or intent, I wouldn't need
those primitives to accomplish that goal.  My people already have the
means to destroy this civilization this very day if we desired it.  But
because we don't have that desire, we haven't, and we never will."
   "On your word of honor?" a hint of sarcasm entered the president's
voice.  "Forgive my skepticism, Commander, but I believe it was two of
your people who were responsible for a rampage the other day that left
more than twenty gorillas dead."
   "My people acted in what they felt was purely self-defense, and
before they had any opportunity to inform me of your civilization,"
Apollo said, "I can give you my solemn word that such an incident will
never be repeated, if in turn I can take your word that you are willing
to change your policy toward keeping humans in captivity and release
them to us."
   Claudius stared at him for a moment, as though he were not certain
of how to choose his next words.
   "Mr. President," Cornelius decided to speak up, "If I may suggest,
perhaps Commander Apollo and his delegation should be given the
privilege of speaking before an Open Assembly.  If our society as a
whole could listen to his proposalC"
   Before Cornelius could continue, there was a firm pounding on the
door from outside, "Mr. President!  The army has returned!  They have
returned!" a voice shouted.
   Claudius rose from his seat, "This is an interesting development,
Commander.  Had you confronted our forces prior to your arrival in Ape
City?"
   "I don't know what you're talking about," Apollo frowned.
   "You don't?" Claudius seemed surprised.  "That is interesting.  I
suggest you and Cornelius wait here in my office, while I find out from
Dr. Zaius and General Ursus what happened in the Forbidden Zone."
   Claudius moved to the door, opened it and departed, leaving Apollo
and Cornelius alone.
   "What's he talking about, Cornelius?"
   The archeologist sighed, "After your friends in the horseless
vehicle repelled the gorilla army yesterday, a new expedition set out
for the Forbidden Zone today to locate your colony."
   "Then they've come back empty-handed, Cornelius," Apollo said
firmly, "We don't have a colony out there, or anywhere else on this
planet."


   As Brent and Tinia helped Zira prepare the food, the astronaut had
finished explaining the nature of his relationship to Taylor.
   "So you see, he traveled through time, undoubtedly thinking he had
gone a long ways into space when in fact he had simply arrived on his
own planet two thousand years later."
   "Now it makes sense!" Zira was fascinated, "Taylor's story about
flying through space and coming from another planet seemed too absurd,
but now I understand how it all happened."
   "It is rather hard to believe," Tinia admitted, "Just as it's...well
hard for us to see that this planet we've searched for all this time
has....."
   "Has become a planet of the apes?" Zira finished the thought for her
as she spooned out equal portions of salad onto several plates.
   "Yes," Tinia nodded, "But considering our own history, I suppose we
shouldn't be surprised that our brother tribe that originally settled
this planet didn't learn how to take care of it properly."
   Zira looked at her with slight surprise that she would make a remark
that was condemnatory about humans in general, "You don't believe then
that humans are instinctively superior as a race?"
   "That depends on what you mean by superior, Dr. Zira," Tinia said as
she took one of the plates and a fork and began to eat.  "We believe
ourselves superior to the enemy we fight, the Cylon Empire, because we
believe we stand for a better cause.  The cause of liberty and
individual freedom as opposed to the cause of murder, slavery and
tyranny that the Cylons stand for."
   "And that makes all humans superior?" Zira handed a plate to Brent.
   "Not every human," Tinia shook her head, "Humans have the ability to
do evil things and to be corrupt.  In fact, our plight of flying across
the galaxy to this planet was in many ways caused by the corrupt
instinct in one human being."
   "Really," Zira was impressed as the three of them moved back into
the living room.  They noticed right away that Starbuck, Boomer and the
guards were all crowded around the one open window at the far side of
the room, each of them cautiously poking their heads out from time to
time.
   "What's going on?" Zira inquired as she set the salad plates down on
the table.
   Starbuck turned around, "A rather large number of gorillas just
arrived that looks like the army I saw yesterday."
   "The expedition," Zira froze, "They've returned."
   Starbuck and Boomer both carefully approached her.
   "Maybe you'd better explain that in more detail, Zira," Starbuck
kept his voice less hostile than it might have been had Boomer not
spoken to him before.


   "Mr. President!" Ursus was beaming with pride as he dismounted from
his horse, "I return with news of a glorious triumph in the Forbidden
Zone!"
   "Really," Claudius folded his arms, "What kind of triumph?"
   "A clear victory over the inhabitants of the human colony," Dr.
Zaius stepped forward, not wanting to match Ursus's overly boastful
tone.  "Hundreds, perhaps more than a thousand or two humans were
felled by our superior firepower."
   "You're certain of that?"
   "My soldiers are all witnesses to it!" Ursus motioned.  "Mr.
President, the problem of the human invaders has been ended forever!"
   Claudius stared at them both with an indifferent expression and then
motioned them forward.
   "Come," he said, "I think it best you meet someone in my office."
   The general and the chief scientist both frowned as they followed
Claudius in.  When they entered, they were both surprised to see
Cornelius sitting next to a tall, imposing human with slightly graying
black hair and piercing green eyes, resplendently dressed in a formal
blue uniform.
   "Commander Apollo, this is Dr. Zaius, our Minister of Science and
Chief Defender of the Faith, and General Ursus, commander of the Ape
Police." Claudius motioned, "They have some news that I think would
interest you as much as it does me."
   Both the elderly orangutan and the gorilla general seemed at a loss
for words, since the last thing they had expected to see was a human in
the President's office.  Finally, Zaius cleared his throat and seemed
to regain his composure first.
   "You are the leader of the human colony?"
   "A crude way of putting it, but that's basically true," Apollo
immediately felt a warning bell going off inside him that these two new
arrivals would present more difficulties than the President would.
   "The colony that possesses the horseless vehicles?" Ursus jumped in.
   "If you mean do we have vehicles that travel across the ground under
automated power, the answer is also yes." Apollo wondered what this was
leading to, as did Cornelius.
   The gorilla general suddenly broke into a sneer, "Then it would seem
that you have come to negotiate face before it is too late for you!"
   "What are you saying, Ursus?" Cornelius got to his feet.
   Ursus ignored the chimpanzee, "What I'm certain this stinking human
already knows.  His people lie decimated and totally at the mercy of
our next strike!  And now he comes here in what can only be an attempt
to beg for mercy!"
   "Mr. President," Apollo felt his patience rapidly disappearing,
"Would you kindly translate these inane babblings into something I can
understand?"
   "General Ursus is referring to the recent campaign this morning
against a group of humans in the Forbidden Zone," Claudius kept his
tone neutral, "He says that over two thousand were massacred in an
instant."
   Apollo turned back to Claudius and raised an eyebrow slightly. "I
won't ask why your army decided to do that, but whatever caused that,
it has nothing to do with my people."
   "Already, you are exposing yourself as a bad liar," Ursus retorted
contemptuously, "A moment ago, you said the horseless vehicles belong
to you.  Well we saw that same horseless vehicle in the Forbidden Zone
and that proves that our triumph was against your people."
   Apollo froze as the meaning of Ursus's words hit him.  They had seen
the landram that Athena had been in, searching for Boxey.  By all the
Lords of Kobol had she gotten mixed up with a group of humans somewhere
that had run into this assault?  And did that mean that his sister and
even his son were now dead?
   He felt his blood boiling inside him and began to wonder if maybe
Starbuck had the right idea after all.  Maybe there was no way to
reason with this mutated species of animal.  Maybe the only way to make
things right was to destroy the beast that had conquered the world that
had once belonged to the Thirteenth Tribe.
   But before Apollo dared say anything, he could also hear a voice
filling his head.  The voice of the one man he had trusted more than
anyone else in his life, and whose values, judgment and wisdom had made
Apollo the man he was.  Even though that voice had been stilled five
yahrens ago, he could always sense what it might say to him during a
time of crisis and how he could continue to learn from it.
   And the voice of Adama was telling him to exercise patience and
absolute caution.  The entire fate of his people was riding on his
actions.
   When Apollo finally spoke, it was in a totally calm, measured,
diplomatic tone of voice.
   "General," he said, "What you saw was a search vehicle containing
the only three people from my colony on this planet apart from my own
party.  They may or may not have become involved with other humans you
came in contact with, but those humans are most assuredly not my
tribe."
   "I see no reason to believe you," Ursus retorted.  "If it is true
that your wretched species once had the ability to speak, than it could
only have been with a forked tongue."
   "General, you're going to believe what I say sooner or later,"
Apollo injected a hint of coolness, "If you make it sooner, then things
are going to go a lot more smoothly for all of us."
   "Stalling for time!" Ursus increased the level of contempt, "A
typical tactic from one who knows he is ultimately defeated."
   "Shut up and listen to him, you brainless baboon!" Cornelius had
finally reached the boiling point.  "He's telling the truth!"
   Ursus flinched at the insult and then regained his composure, "You
and your wife's fondness for humans is already known, Cornelius!  I
have no reason to think that your word should count for anything on
that!"
   "This is hardly getting us anywhere," Claudius interrupted frostily
and then looked at his fellow orangutan, "You've been silent up to now,
Dr. Zaius.  Perhaps you should enlighten me with your thoughts on how
we should treat Commander Apollo."
   Zaius could feel the weight of responsibility hitting him like never
before.  On the one hand, he found Ursus and his entire reaction
deplorable in every sense, and a living example of why gorillas were
totally unfit to be the rulers of Ape society.  But on the other hand,
his long-standing hatred and contempt for the human species, reinforced
by the journey into the ruins of their great city in the Forbidden
Zone, made the idea of siding with a human against one of his own
equally, if not more distasteful.
   "Well, Doctor?" the Ape President prodded, "Your opinion?"
   Zaius forced himself to look Apollo in the eye, "Why would you come
if not to do as the general says?" he inquired.  "If you are superior,
simple logic dictates that you would waste no time utilizing your
resources to destroy us."
   "Why does simple logic dictate it, Doctor?" Apollo dropped his voice
to the friendliest tone he could manage while still retaining the
diplomatic edge, "Is it impossible for you to believe that I could come
not as an enemy, but a potential friend?"
   "Mankind long ago proved that his base instincts are evil!" Zaius
suddenly snapped, "It is part of his make-up!  All this the Lawgiver
knew when he told us to shun man for all time."
   "As opposed to your base instincts, Doctor?" Apollo gently retorted. 
"Right now, your base instinct would appear to be exactly that which
you condemn my race for having."
   "Your race is the one that made the Forbidden Zone a wasteland!" the
elderly orangutan was already feeling his natural distaste for anything
human kick in. "I saw a city that I have seen pictures of when it was
the greatest achievement on the face of the Earth!"
   "Oh stop it, Dr. Zaius!" in the past, Cornelius would never have
contemplated raising his voice to the Chief Scientist, the way Zira was
occasionally prone to do.  But right now, he was looking at a situation
where Zaius wouldn't be able to do anything to him at all.  "This isn't
the time or the place to debate the past.  It's time to debate the
future for our civilization, and whether we have war or peace!"
   "And it would seem that your idea of peace is to make our interests
subservient to this gang of humans," Ursus jumped in.
   "Silence!" Claudius interjected sharply and then looked back at
Zaius, "You've done a fine job repeating the familiar platitudes, Dr.
Zaius, but I asked you for your advice on what to do with Commander
Apollo and his guests.  Now kindly come to the point and give me an
answer."
   Zaius glanced at Apollo with equal parts suspicion and contempt.  He
then turned back to the Ape president and drew up his shoulders.  "Mr.
President, I can only confirm what I and the rest of the expeditionary
force saw.  A mass group of humans cut down in an instant that made no
significant effort to defend themselves.  We also saw the horseless
vehicle nearby that was the singular cause of the difficulties we
endured the other day in the rampage.  There is therefore no evidence
to indicate that this...Commander of theirs has any real power behind
his empty boasts that defy all possible rational reasoning."
   Cornelius seemed ready to throw his arms up in disgust.
   "Your recommendation, then?" Claudius inquired.
   Zaius felt the contempt rising in his voice, "The only fit place for
any human that tries to threaten us when he cannot, is in a cage!"
   Inside, Apollo felt the tension rising inside him.  This was exactly
the moment he knew he would have needed the Red Squadron escort for. 
To come in with a demonstration of power by having the viper group fly
in over the city and firing their lasers in an empty section of forest
land.  It was all too clear that Dr. Zaius and his instinctive
prejudice for humans would be silenced instantly if a proper
demonstration could be shown.
   But he had ordered Red Group to return to the Galactica to help take
care of the impending Cylon attack and been forced to take the risk of
going on without escort and without proper means of demonstrating the
strength of Colonial power.  It was a decision he could never regret
for an instant, but still, he had to wonder why events had conspired to
add this new difficulty to what had already been the most difficult
days of his life since the early yahrens following the Holocaust.
   "Dr. Zaius," he kept his tone calm, but pointed, "You can put me and
the members of my party in a cage and imprison us.  You can even kill
us.  But if that is the choice you want your government to make, then
you will only be condemning your civilization to total destruction. 
And the blood of those who die, will all be on your hands.  However, if
you are willing to accept an offer of tolerance, if not friendship, the
results can be far more advantageous to your people than you could ever
imagine."
   "Yes!" Cornelius said fervently, "Apollo, tell them what you said
about rounding up all the humans in this area and not letting them be a
problem for our society again!"
   "What's that?" for the first time, Zaius seemed caught off-guard.
   "Before you two arrived, Commander Apollo made a most interesting
offer," Claudius spoke up, still refusing to betray any hint of which
direction he was going in, "He says that if we are willing to tolerate
the presence of his people somewhere else on this planet, far from our
own boundaries, he is willing to round up every last human, along with
those we keep imprisoned, and take full responsibility for them."
   "In short, the problem of human encroachments and scavenging that
has concerned you so much for years, doesn't have to be a concern any
longer," Cornelius jumped in.  "Would someone who is supposedly trying
to surrender make an offer as extraordinary as that?"
   "To gather a new army no doubt!" Ursus scoffed.
   "I wouldn't need them for an army," Apollo said, feeling his
patience wearing all the more thin.  "As I have said to your president,
and I shall say it again, my people have the means to destroy your
civilization whenever we feel like it."
   "Trying to hide within your lies proves your undoing," Zaius jumped
back in.  "You admitted the horseless vehicle is yours, therefore it
was your colony that we encountered in the Forbidden Zone.  Mr.
President, I see little point in continuing this discussion any
further.  This human has nothing of value or importance to offer us."
   "Mr. President," Cornelius drew up his shoulders, "If you plan on
imprisoning or killing the commander and his party, I can give you my
word that I will do all I can to oppose such a foolhardy action, even
if I have to organize a revolt!"
   "At last, the human lover reveals how much of a traitor he really is
at heart!" the gorilla general said, with an air of triumph.
   "Oh really, Ursus?" Cornelius spun back toward them.  "And if the
President chose to rule against you, would you be so placid about it?"
   "Enough!" Claudius finally raised his voice.  "I've heard enough
from all of you!"
   Apollo looked the president in the eye, "And your decision, Mr.
President?"
   For a long, uneasy moment there was only silence, with the three
apes and one human looking Claudius right in the eye, trying to find
some hint of where the decision was going to go.
   But before the Ape president could speak there was a frantic
pounding on the door from the outside, "Mr. President, another of the
flying vehicles is overhead!" a voice said.
   Nothing was said as the four apes and one human moved to the door
and opened it.  They saw the face of the chimpanzee scientist, Dr.
Milo, his expression one of awe and fascination.
   "I've never seen anything like it," he was saying, "You have to
see."
   They stepped out into the open where a large crowd of apes from the
three classes were gathering once again in the square.  Many of them
had seen the shuttle flying overhead earlier, but this time, the sight
exceeded the amazement they'd felt then. 
   Even Apollo was amazed, because the last thing he ever would have
expected to see at that instant was the familiar sight of a viper.
   "Another of....yours?" Dr. Zaius forced his words out as he kept
looking up.
   "Yes," Apollo slowly nodded and reached for his micro-communicator,
thanking the Lords that he hadn't deemed it unnecessary to bring with
him after Red Squadron had left.  "Commander Apollo calling viper
craft.  Please come in and acknowledge my signal."
   "Glad to hear you're okay!" a familiar voice replied with relief, "I
was kind of worried when the scan showed your shuttle empty."
   "Hera?" Apollo frowned, "What's happened?"
   "Fill you in later on that, Commander," she said.  "How's your
situation down there?"
   Apollo turned to the four apes, who were even more shocked by the
sight of him communicating with a distant voice and faintly smiled. 
"Stable at the moment, Ensign, but I think a demonstration of the
viper's capability would be in order.  If you could arrange a flyover
of some empty forest on the periphery of the city on your next pass,
that would be appreciated."
   "Affirmative.  Will be over in five centons from now."
   "Very well," Apollo clicked it off and turned back to the apes.
   "You....you talked to the person up there?" even Cornelius was
amazed.
   "Yes," Apollo nodded, "My daughter.  And one of our best pilots. 
She's about to demonstrate in an isolated area what our ships are
capable of doing.  Would you care to see it?"
   The rest of them were too stunned to say anything.  Only Dr. Zaius
and Claudius managed to nod slightly.
   "Good," Apollo managed to smile and motioned. "Since I assume that
Professor Sylvan isn't about to engage in target practice again with
the three of you accompanying me, then let's go to the edge of the city
and watch, shall we?"
   "Let me make certain of that," Claudius stepped in front of him and
looked over at the building where he knew the chimpanzee scholar lived,
"Professor Sylvan, throw your rifle out of your window now, or I'll see
to it that you're jailed on a treason charge in the next ten minutes!"
   Thirty seconds passed before they were greeted to the sight of a
rifle falling out of the window to the ground.  As they moved past the
building, Cornelius looked up hoping to catch sight of the scholar so
he could see the angry expression he was sure was lining Sylvan's face. 
But instead, the scholar had retreated further back and remained out of
sight.
   Cornelius then looked at Ursus and Zaius and wondered if the
orangutan scientist and gorilla general would choose reluctant
compliance like Sylvan had, or angry defiance when this demonstration
was over.  One thing he did know was that if they chose the latter, he
would do all in his power to stop them, even if it meant smashing the
chimpanzee code of pacifism himself.
   

   As soon as they heard the commotion going on outside, Zira had
cautiously opened the door and stepped out, just in time to see the
single viper streaking across the sky over Ape City.  
   "Whoever that pilot is has a wonderful sense of timing," Starbuck
couldn't help but say as he and the rest of the Galactica team watched
through the open windows. 
   "Looks that way," Boomer nodded.  "I'm beginning to get the feeling
that Apollo's job just became a lot easier."
   "If it does go well, what then?" Brent crowded up alongside them so
he could look out.  "What do we do next?"
   "Hopefully get back to finding out what happened to Athena, Boxey
and your friend Rollins, and whether or not they've found your other
friend Taylor," Starbuck said as he noticed Apollo walking across the
square flanked by the four apes.  "After that, my responsibility here
is done as far as I'm concerned.  It'll all be in the hands of people a
lot wiser than me."
   Boomer glanced at his friend and cracked a faint smile.  "Glad you
see it that way, Bucko."
   Siress Tinia had stepped out of the house to join Zira, "One of our
fighter ships," the Council member said.  "It would seem that the
attack on our Fleet is over."
   "Do you have many like that?" Zira asked, still awed by the sight of
the fast moving craft through the sky.
   "Several hundred at least," Tinia said off-handedly, "All throughout
our journey across space, those ships have been our only viable means
of defense."
   Zira looked back at Tinia, "Meaning your enemy has more like them
too?"
   "At least ten times more," she kept her tone casual, thinking it
would have a greater impact.  It only took her an instant to realize
that her hunch was right.
   "Tinia," Zira said, "Is it true that your people would be willing to
protect even us from your enemy, if you settled here, in spite of
everything that's happened between ape and human before?"
   "Of course," she said, "I can only speak for myself but I do have
considerable influence on our governing council and I am prepared to do
all I can to insure that."
   Zira's eyes widened, "Your people allow females to take part in the
government?"
   "Of course," Tinia said the words casually again.
   "You mean there's no Ruling Class or stratified structure based on
gender or racial background?"
   "Not in Colonial society," she said, "We do have a stratified social
structure of sorts, but it hasn't been determined on those bases. 
Gender or racial background is never a test of the individual's worth
in our society."
   Zira allowed herself to smile, "It would seem then that your tribe
has made advances over ours in more ways than just the technological."
   Just then, Apollo stopped in front of the house and motioned his
arm, "It's safe to come out!" he called over.  "I'm about to have our
viper give a demonstration to the President and his chief advisers."
   Tinia turned back toward the house, "Everyone come out and follow
the Commander!" she repeated the order.
   The entire Galactica party, along with Zira, caught up with Apollo,
Cornelius, Claudius, Zaius and Ursus as they made their way to the end
of Ape City, where they could look out and see the beginnings of the
vast open fields with the dense forest and jungle peripheries bordering
them on each side city. As soon as they reached the clearing, Apollo
pulled out his micro-com again, "Commander Apollo to Escort Viper One,"
he said, "Prepare for one strafing pass over the open field at the east
end of the city.  Calibrate your attack computer to begin firing at a
point no closer than five hundred metrones from where the clearing
begins."
   "Affirmative, Commander," Hera's voice replied through the tiny
device that this time, caught Zira by surprise.  "Will be over the area
in twenty microns."
   A small crowd of other apes had gathered behind them as well, from
each of the three classes.  All of them, orangutan, chimpanzee and
gorilla alike stood looking up waiting to see something that they were
already certain would be unlike anything they could have envisioned in
their lives.
   Seconds later, the deafening sound of Hera's viper flying low filled
the sky, followed an instant later by the brilliant red streaks of
laser fire across the open field.  In an instant, a powerful explosion
erupted when the laser streaks impacted with the ground.  More
brilliant than anything the dozens of pairs of ape eyes could have
imagined.
   Right away, Cornelius looked at Zaius and Ursus and saw expressions
on them that he had never seen before.  With Zaius, he was less
surprised, since he was certain that the Chief Scientist needed a
demonstration of something tangible in order to break through his
instinctive prejudice and allow his pragmatic side to kick in.  But
with Ursus, the expression was more telling.  It was the expression of
one who's entire faith in everything he had believed in all his life
had just been shattered beyond repair forever.  Gone were all traces of
boast, swagger and brash confidence that had characterized him all
throughout his career as head of the Ape Police, and which he had so
carefully drilled in all the members of the gorilla army.
   There was no doubt in Cornelius's mind that the two of them would
comply.
   Finally, Claudius turned slowly to Apollo and said in the same even
tone of voice he'd maintained throughout their conversations,
"Commander Apollo," he said, "On behalf of the Ape people, I invite you
to address our population at a special meeting of the Ape Assembly to
convene within the hour so that you may explain the situation you
described to all of us, as well as what you have to offer."
   When he was finished, the Ape president calmly extended his hand. 
Apollo didn't hesitate for an instant as he reached out and took it. 
And this time, he noticed that the handshake was strong and firm.

                    Chapter Fifteen

   The first thing Rollins was aware of when he opened his eyes, was
the pounding sensation of the worst headache of his life.  The next
thing he found himself wondering was whether this type of sensation was
what hangover victims went through.  Since he never drank a drop of
alcohol, he'd never bothered to find out.
   Finally, he massaged his eyes which alleviated the pain slightly and
rose to a sitting position.  When he managed to focus in front of
himself again, he froze when he saw Taylor sitting in front of the
Alpha-Omega Bomb, brandishing a laser pistol in his right hand.  Nova
lay across his lap, clasping the unmistakable shape of a baby wrapped
in a warrior flight jacket, while Taylor absently rubbed his left hand
through her hair.
   "You feeling okay, Phil?" Taylor said as he saw his friend come to.
   "Like shit," Rollins got to his feet and slowly walked toward his
friend.  "What the hell happened?"
   "It's a complicated story, Colonel Rollins." Athena spoke up from
her position on the other side of the altar, where she too was keeping
her laser pistol brandished.  "Suffice to say, the worst is over for
now."  She then spent the next five minutes explaining what had
happened to the Air Force Colonel.  When she was through, Rollins was
shaking his head in numb disbelief.
   "Jesus Christ," he whispered, "I honestly don't remember a thing
after I stepped inside here.  To think I almostC"
   "Don't worry about it Phil," Taylor said gently, "It's all over. 
Those maniacs are either dead or they've fled the scene for good. 
They're certainly not going to have a chance to set this baby off,
ever."  He lightly tapped the laser pistol against the surface of the
missile.
   Rollins stepped up alongside Taylor and looked down at Nova, who
seemed to be the picture of contentment as she clasped her crying baby
to her.  "She okay?"
   "Mother and daughter are doing well," Taylor smiled, "I wish I had
cigars to pass out, but I'm afraid they don't keep any here."
   "Congratulations," Rollins mumbled slightly as he rubbed his head
again.  He then looked back at Athena, "Where are Ares and Boxey?"
   "They went off to do some exploring in some of the underground
areas," the Galactica major said.  "The more information we find out
about how this whole society came to be, and what happened to the
planet, the better."
   Rollins found himself instinctively nodding, and then realized how
it still wasn't safe to tip his hand about why he was nodding.  He
wanted that information too, but for a vastly different reason.  To
figure out what exactly needed to be changed when he and Brent, and
hopefully Taylor got back to where they belonged.
   At the other end of the Cathedral, the great doors suddenly opened
and Ares and Boxey emerged, each holding what looked like several books
and parchments.
   "Find something?" Athena inquired as she and the others looked over.
   "I think so," Boxey nodded as he and the security guard stepped over
the bodies of numerous dead mutants while making their way down the
aisle toward the altar.  "We came across what looked like a library of
sorts where they kept what they regarded as their most holy documents. 
We picked up the most promising ones.  Testament of Mendez II.  Of all
the past Mendezes, he seems to be regarded as the most important one."
   "I always had a hunch that he was the one who made this society what
it became," Taylor got to his feet, "The first Mendez couldn't have
been that crazy.  Not if he was the one who organized the survivors
after the war broke out."
   "Could very well be," Boxey admitted and then noticed Rollins, "Glad
to see you up and moving about, Colonel Rollins."
   "Thank you," Rollins said, his eyes still locked on the parchments
and books the two warriors were holding, "Since I've got nothing better
to do, you think I could have a look at them?"
   Boxey came over and handed one of them to the astronaut, "I was
hoping you would, Colonel.  I think you and Colonel Taylor would
probably understand what these things describe a lot better than the
rest of us would."
   Rollins took the leather bound book that had the look and feel of a
Gutenberg Bible.  Even the gold inscription on the front seemed
reminiscent of one.  Only instead of Holy Bible, the words read
TESTAMENT OF MENDEZ II.
   As Rollins sat down on the front pew bench and began to read, Taylor
idly inquired, "How much longer do we have to sit here and wait?"
   "Until a search team from the Galactica arrives," Athena said
flatly.  "We can't take the risk of leaving the Alpha-Omega Bomb alone
at any time.  If there's so much as one mutant left alive, they could
easily find another way of setting it off."
   "Are you confident they'll find us?" there was an edge of skepticism
in Taylor's voice.
   "They will," her voice was determined, "Our vehicle on the surface
has an active beacon that will make them start searching the area. 
From then on, it shouldn't be too difficult."
   "I see," Taylor said as he returned his attention to Nova and his
daughter.  He saw that Nova was now breast-feeding baby Eve, and had
succeeded in quieting her crying for now.  Taylor found himself smiling
at how even after all these centuries of regression, the natural
instincts of motherhood still endured.
   An hour passed, and the Cathedral remained largely silent, save for
idle talk among the three Colonials.  Nova and baby Eve had now fallen
asleep, and Taylor continued to hover over them both with a
penetrating, protective gaze.  Occasionally, Rollins would glance up
from his reading and look at them, the sight reminding him of a mother
lion protecting her cubs.
   For the most part though, Rollins was totally enraptured by the
contents of the Testimony of Mendez II.  It revealed a lot of things
that clarified some of the questions about how this evil society had
come to be.
   But by the time he reached the end of the leather bound volume, a
sense of frustration had settled in on the Air Force colonel.  For all
the knowledge that could be gleaned from this book, he still didn't
have enough answers about how the terrible nuclear holocaust had been
triggered.  From his standpoint, that was the more important
information to bring back to the 20th Century.  Find out what it was
that was the trigger to the war of destruction that had set the whole
chain of events in motion. leading up to this moment, 2000 years later. 
Only tangible details about that would help things to be changed
quickly and for the better.
   Rollins closed the volume and leaned back in the pew bench, staring
up at the high ceiling of the Cathedral.  Talking inside to a man who
had died long ago, but as far as he was concerned was still his
Commander-In-Chief.
   Well, Mr. President, the stakes are now even bigger than what
Hasslein said they were.
   He shook his head and tried to recall that meeting in the Oval
Office, just four years ago by his body clock, and 2000 years by the
actual calendar.  Dr. Hasslein had dominated the proceedings,
explaining in that calm, rational tone how America's credibility as a
space power now rested on a successful Magellan II mission to find and
hopefully bring back the lost crew of the original Magellan expedition. 
The revelation of a lone whistleblower at Consolidated Dynamics that
the greatest achievement in space technology had been built with
defective equipment in so many areas had led to many public calls that
the space program had gotten out of control and that it was time for
America to focus it's attention on domestic problems instead.  But if a
successful rescue mission could be carried out by a ship utilizing the
same basic design as the original Magellan, then public confidence in
the space program could be restored.
   Rollins could still see Richard Nixon, two years into his second
term, sitting behind the desk used by every president since Wilson, and
listening to the brilliant scientist's words more with a sense of
grudging acceptance than fervent agreement.  It had never been much of
a secret that before he'd become president in 1969, Nixon's enthusiasm
for the space program was all but nonexistent.  To him, the space
program held no political benefits for him because in the public's eye,
the idea of getting to the moon first would always be regarded as John
F. Kennedy's vision, and so too would anything that happened after the
first moon landing.  There had already been rumors that once the first
landing by the Apollo XI crew of Armstrong and Aldrin had taken place,
Nixon was ready to capitalize on the letdown that would follow and pull
the plug on NASA for all intents and purposes.
   But what Nixon hadn't counted on discovering after he'd become
president was that since the beginning of the Kennedy Administration in
1961, America had been conducting two separate space programs.  The
public space program of the Mercury and Gemini flights, followed by the
Apollo program and the race to the moon.  And all the time, conducting
a highly different space program in private, with untold billions of
dollars funneled quietly into developing spaceflight technologies that
if successful would make every aspect of the public space program seem
insignificant in an instant, and training a whole new group of
astronauts kept out of the public eye like Rollins, Brent and Taylor. 
Training them for technologies that would make moon bases, flights to
Mars and even beyond the solar system to distant stars a reality in
just a matter of a few years.  All of it under the direction of the
brilliant, calculating genius of Dr. Otto Hasslein.  The young prodigy
who had worked with Wernehr Von Braun at Peenemunde in the development
of the U-2 for Hitler's Germany as early as age nineteen, and had
emerged in the 1950s as the best of the German scientists who had come
over to the American side after the war.
   Hasslein had always sensed that the time for public revelation of
the secret space program would come in the wake of the first landing on
the moon by Apollo XI, when the inevitable question of what else was
there left to do in space would be raised.  And Richard Nixon, who had
been shocked to discover that both John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson had
been able to keep a tight lid on the program's existence all throughout
the 1960s would be forced by necessity to go along with it.  Especially
since it was also clear that both the Soviet Union and Red China had
secret space programs of their own aimed toward the same goals.  Now,
America's credibility as a superpower rested on continuing the program
even with a reluctant president like Nixon.
   That meant establishment of a permanent moon base as early as
December 1969, just five months after Neil Armstrong had planted the
first footprint on the lunar surface.  Followed by the first flight to
Mars in 1970, which both Taylor and Rollins had taken part in.  And
then, the most ambitious of them all.  Project Magellan, and the first
flight beyond Earth's solar system to a distant star in the
constellation Orion 300 light years away.  The country that
successfully launched that mission would by far establish itself as the
leading superpower in space, even if the successful outcome of the
mission could never be known for centuries.
   But then, six months after the Magellan's liftoff from Cape
Canaveral in October 1972, the whistleblower at Consolidated Dynamics
had sold his story to the New York Times and the Washington Post, and
it was now regarded that perhaps only a successful rescue mission could
restore faith and confidence in the space program that had eaten more
than fifty billion dollars of expenditures since 1961.
   And that had led to Rollins volunteering for the mission.  Not just
because he wanted to help rescue four astronauts he regarded as
friends, but because it was also what duty and honor required. Ever
since the death of his wife ten years earlier, that had been the only
thing left that gave his life any meaning.  His willingness to do
whatever his country asked him to do, because he believed it was always
for a good cause.  That was why he'd joined the Air Force, that was why
he'd flown combat missions in Vietnam, and that was why he'd been
willing to put his life on the line in the Magellan II mission.
   Even now, in a time and place where it was clear that the principles
he'd honored throughout his career had been smashed seemingly beyond
repair by a nuclear holocaust and the descent of Earth into a planet of
apes, primitives and mutants, Rollins still believed in them.  That it
was possible to make things right again and see to it that those
principles he'd risked his life for so many times were allowed to
endure.
   Whether Taylor would ever be able to understand that, was highly
unlikely.  From what he'd seen, it was clear that Taylor was just as
he'd always been, and never would change.  And never would see the
benefit to be gained in taking the knowledge of this time and place and
using it to save the people of the 20th Century.
   But it was also clear to Rollins that if he and Brent were to make
any real impact on the society of the 20th Century once they returned,
they needed to have Taylor's firsthand accounts.  And that meant that
the commander of the Magellan had to come back whether he liked it or
not.


   The Ape Assembly and the surrounding galleries were packed as tight
as they'd ever been before.  All of them, whether they were orangutans,
chimpanzees or gorillas were on the edge of their seats listening in
rapt attention as a human spoke to them.  About a people that had
traveled across the stars more than seven thousand years ago from a
dying planet to establish a new colony. About the twelve brother tribes
left behind who had established their own civilization elsewhere. 
About the onset of a thousand year war with a machine race called
Cylons.  About the tragic Holocaust that had been caused by human
failing as much as the enemy's treachery.  And finally, about the long,
lonely quest across the stars in search of the brother tribe that had
settled on this planet.
   There had been a few isolated guffaws of disbelief from some of the
more intransigent apes, none of whom had been present to see the
spectacular display of Hera's viper, but it was clear that Apollo's
words were being taken seriously by the vast majority of the apes
present.
  "Do not think that I and my people come here proclaiming ourselves to
be superior because we are human," Apollo said, "And do not think my
people come to this planet wanting to deny your society of the
privileges and benefits you have enjoyed through your own independent
development.  Perhaps it is not yet possible for us to live together as
friends, free of all old prejudices that we hold for the other's
species.  But at the very least, we can share this vast planet in a
spirit of tolerance, cooperation and mutual defense against the greater
enemy, and use that as a beginning toward the long-term goal of
friendship."
   Apollo stepped away from the lectern and looked out into the vast
audience of simian eyes that were locked on to him.  "I leave the
choice entirely to you."
   Abruptly, Zira rose from her seat and began to applaud vigorously. 
It set off a chain reaction among more than half to two-thirds of those
in the galleries.  And it relieved Apollo to see that the positive
reaction was equally mixed among the three classes of apes.
   Claudius, who had remained seated off to one side in his
presidential seat rose from his chair and made his way to the front so
he could look out to the audience as well.
   "Fellow Apes," he said in his somber, leadership tone of voice,
"Only two days ago, I stood in this chamber and impressed upon all of
you the need to mobilize Ape Society for total war against all strains
of humanity that encroached upon our domain. I raised that call out of
the belief that all strains of humanity could only be regarded as
irrational and barbaric, and never to be seen as anything but a
mindless scavenger or a savage threat." he turned to Apollo, "But I
must confess that Commander Apollo represents something I never thought
possible in any human being.  He comes to us not with any sense of
revulsion toward us, or any instinctive sense of superiority about his
own race.  He even offers to solve all of our problems with regard to
human scavengers in a way that would save us much valuable time and
resources, and at the same time enable us to performC" he paused and
turned to Apollo, "To perform mercy rather than vengeance."
   The Ape President then turned back to the audience, "I believe that
if we accept Commander Apollo's offer of mutual tolerance, the benefits
to Ape Society shall be immeasurable.  It is my proposal to you, the
entire population of Ape City and not just the members of our Ruling
Class who constitute our Assembly, that his generous offer be
accepted."
   A low murmur went up, followed by the sound of Zira getting to her
feet and starting another round of applause that the large majority of
apes joined in.
   Cornelius felt a sense of relief that Zira wasn't calling attention
to herself with her bursts of spontaneity.  It was clear that all she
was doing was triggering the natural sentiments of most of the apes
present.  Even so, the archeologist couldn't help but wonder how Apollo
might have fared had there been no demonstration of the military power
his people possessed.  At the very least, he knew that Dr. Zaius,
General Ursus and Professor Sylvan would have seen to it that factions
of orangutans, gorillas and chimpanzees alike rise up and have Apollo
and his party strung up from the nearest tree.
   Right now, there was only stone-faced silence from the three of
them.  It was clear that there was residual pride in each of them that
kept them from joining in the applause.  But none of them were stupid
enough to launch Ape Civilization down a suicide campaign of defiance
and war.
   As the applause continued, Cornelius could feel something else for
the first time in his life.  A sense of hope that at long last Ape
Society was going to change for the better.


   "I would be honored if you and a delegation of your people would
accompany us to our ship, the Battlestar Galactica so that you may
address our governing council," Apollo said twenty minutes later after
the Assembly meeting had ended and the crowds of apes slowly dispersed.
   "That would be an honor," Claudius said, "When shall this....journey
begin?"
   "There remain other matters for my party to attend to before we
return," Apollo cautioned, "The whereabouts of my son and my sister for
instance.  I must know firsthand if they were among the victims of the
massacre your army engaged in this morning."
   The Ape President tensed slightly, "And if they are?"
   Apollo sucked in his breath.  This by far was the most difficult
thing he had ever forced himself to say in his life.  But he also knew
that it was exactly what his father would have said and done if he had
been in the same position.
   "It...would be most unfortunate, if that were the case, Mr.
President.  And it would probably cause some anger and hostility
amongst other elements of our population.  But I can give you my word
of honor that it will not affect anything that I have said and promised
to you and to your people."
   Claudius seemed deeply impressed, "There is little doubt that you
are a man of honor, Commander Apollo."
   "As are you, Mr. President," the Galactica commander bowed slightly.
   "I'm glad you think so," the Ape President half-smiled, and looked
out at the dispersing crowd of apes, "Hopefully you will have cause to
think likewise of the rest of us."
   Apollo noticed Hera standing off to one side. "Excuse me for now,
Mr. President," he said as he made his way over to his daughter.  He
noticed right away that she seemed more tense than usual.
   "I guess we've got a couple centons to chat before we resume the
search for Boxey and Athena," he said.
   "I hope I can take part in that," Hera spoke up, "This is something
I need to see through to the end."
   "Before I let you do that, I need you to clear up something for me,"
her father injected a note of caution, "Did you come out here without
authorization?"
   "No," Hera didn't skip a beat, "The authorization came straight from
the Acting Commander."
   "That's interesting," Apollo folded his arms, "Your mother is
well-aware of the standard procedure after any Cylon attack on the
Fleet takes place."
   "And she didn't break it," Hera decided to come straight to the
point.  "I'm grounded from all further combat flights, Father.  The
reason being, that I'm pregnant."
   Right away, Hera saw the feeling of shock and disbelief fill her
father's eyes, though amazingly enough there was no other change in his
expression.
   She spent the next five centons recapitulating what she had already
told her mother earlier, this time telling her account with more
strength and inner confidence than she'd possessed the first time. 
When she was through, her father's expression was still stoic, but Hera
could easily see the feelings of disappointment in his eyes.
   "I'm not proud of what happened, but all I'm going to do is accept
it and move on," she finished, "I'll stay off combat flight duty until
the child is born, but I'm not resigning my commission and I'm not
going to shirk my duty in other areas where I'm needed."
   Apollo finally broke the silence he'd been in ever since her
revelation, "We'll talk more about this later, Hera," his voice was
level, but still had that edge of disappointment his daughter had
already sensed.  "Right now, you get back to your viper and guide us
along an overhead search of the area while the rest of us look for
Boxey and Athena at ground level."
   "Yes sir," she nodded dutifully as she turned and walked away.
   After she had gone, Apollo didn't budge from his position or move a
muscle for more than a centon.  It was a long time before he finally
noticed an impatient Starbuck tugging at his elbow.
   "Commander?" his old friend gently inquired.
   He finally shook himself out of his deep thoughts, "Oh...sorry,
Starbuck.  We'll resume the search for Athena and Boxey right away. 
You, Boomer, Brent and one of the guards will join me in the landram. 
Tinia and the other guards will stay here in Ape City.  Hera's flying
overhead to help out."
   "Okay," Starbuck nodded and then frowned slightly, "Something
bothering you?"
   "Not a thing, Starbuck," Apollo shook his head as he started walking
away, "Not a thing." 


   "Are you finished with that?" Boxey inquired as he came over to the
front pew where Rollins had set down the Testament of Mendez II and was
staring up at the ceiling of the Cathedral in deep contemplation.
   The Air Force colonel looked at the Galactica warrior and blinked,
"Oh.  Yes, I am."
   "What does it say?"
   Rollins sighed, "You have to sort of read between the lines to
figure out what a lot of this refers to.  Evidently, Mendez II was the
son of the original Mendez who gathered the survivors of the war
together throughout all of New York City.  The first Mendez is
described as 'an official in the city during its days of greatness who
had loyally served the old government, and rose to the challenge of
leadership when no one else was able to.'"
   Taylor stepped down from the altar, and smirked, "Sounds like he was
some low-level city bureaucrat who had to take charge because the Mayor
of New York and the rest of city government didn't survive the attack."
   His fellow astronaut nodded, "I'd agree with that.  And it's pretty
clear that the first Mendez was a fairly level-headed individual who
was just trying to keep a viable community of survivors together.  If I
read what this says correctly, the descent into insanity began twenty
years after the war.  I think I finally know where the hell this
Alpha-Omega bomb came from, and how it ended up here in New York."
   Rollins picked up the book and began to read from it, "'The arrival
of the Destroyers though, from their secluded hiding place in the
distant North, threatened to undo all the good that the Great Mendez
had accomplished.  And so it became the responsibility of his chosen
heir to preserve what he had created by eradicating the Destroyers from
the face of our Holy City.  And when the Destroyers had been
exterminated, a sign from God was left to us for all eternity.'"
   "Which means?" Athena inquired.
   "'The sign from God for all eternity'," Rollins repeated and then
motioned his head toward the Alpha-Omega bomb, "I think that's
self-explanatory.  'The Destroyers'.  That would refer to those whom
the survivors would blame for the war, namely American soldiers.  This
is just my guess, but I think what happened was that a surviving convoy
of U.S. military personnel made their way down from Plattsburgh Air
Force Base in upstate New York, 300 miles north of the city."
   "'The distant North," Taylor said.  "Of course.  That's the only
major military base that was north of the city and that's where they
had to have kept one of the two Alpha-Omega bombs apart from the one at
SAC headquarters in Omaha.  The soldiers brought the Bomb with them,
and then Mendez II incited the people to murder the soldiers and seize
the Bomb."
   "And beginning the process of turning it into an instrument of
worship," Rollins nodded, "Apparently Mendez II decided that the way he
could insure that his lineage would run things forever was to make
people tremble before the Bomb as the symbol of what created them, and
worship it as their Protector from all other outside forces now that
they had control of it."
   "And over time the whole cult of the Bomb kept growing with each
passing generation...." Boxey shook his head in amazement.
   "The end result being what we finally, praise God, destroyed today,"
Athena sighed, reflecting at the irony of how this was the first time
in so many yahrens that she'd felt the urge to express thanks to a
Deity she had once renounced.
   "What a sick human being that man was," Ares spoke for the first
time with disgust, "He literally disgraced everything his father had
done in keeping the survivors together all in the name of preserving
power for himself and his descendants."
   "So it would seem," Taylor sighed, "Even in the wake of something as
terrible as a nuclear holocaust, the human race couldn't learn it's
lessons.  No wonder they became mad down here while regressing above."
   Rollins glanced at Taylor briefly, feeling a sense of unease again
at how he would be able to explain the purpose of what he and Brent
were determined to do.   It was clear that whenever that time came, he
would have to put his best possible foot forward in trying to make his
fellow astronaut understand that it was still possible for the humans
of the distant past to learn the lessons before the destruction took
place.


   "You call this land the Forbidden Zone?" Apollo asked Cornelius as
the landram moved across the rocky surface that would take them to
where the Gorilla Army had gunned down 2000 humans earlier in the day.
   "Yes," the archeologist nodded, "Our Lawgiver declared this
territory forbidden when our Sacred Scrolls were written 1200 years
ago.  Evidently, he did this so future generations of apes would not be
able to discover the remains of the old human civilization."
   "I'm assuming then that your Scrolls do not refer to whatever last
great conflicts took place between an intelligent human population and
simBape civilization?" Apollo corrected himself, wanting to use the
term they were known by, as opposed to how Colonials called them.
   "That's correct," Cornelius said, "I suppose now that I think of it,
the Lawgiver meant well, and wanted to give Apes a sense of how special
they were in trying to make something of this planet again after what
the humans had done.  But it was still wrong to conceal the truth from
us.  Future generations of humans didn't deserve to suffer as they have
at our hands just because of the sins of their distant ancestors."
   "Commander, my scanner's picking up the remains of a city just to
the south of you, on heading mark twelve-seven-four-one." Hera's voice
came over from her viper above. "Indication is that the northern half
of it is exposed, the southern half almost completely buried under the
rock formation."
   "New York City," Brent whispered to himself.
   "Copy that, Blue Escort," Apollo radioed back, "We'll proceed to
those coordinates and conduct visual inspection.  Stand by on our
homing signal for now."
   At the landram controls, Starbuck half-cocked his head back toward
Apollo, noticing how there was a slightly stiff edge in the commander's
voice.
   Moments later, the landram had come into view of the remains of
northern Manhattan and proceeded on, into the portions of the city that
remained buried under the rocky surface.


   After attending the Ape Assembly meeting, General Ursus had
retreated to the privacy of the steam baths located on the other side
of Ape City.  It had long since been regarded as the most efficient way
for apes to keep clean, given their general disdain for immersing
themselves in water.  He had been inside only for three minutes though,
before his privacy came to an end.
   "Good afternoon, General."
   Ursus looked up and saw the towel clad figure of Professor Sylvan.
   "Professor Sylvan," Ursus nodded his head in greeting.
   "Could I have a word with you?" Sylvan sat next to him.
   "By all means," the gorilla general's tone was largely indifferent.
   The scholar looked about the steam-filled room, "It would seem that
in spite of our surroundings, the fire has disappeared from you for the
most part."
   "Professor Sylvan," Ursus didn't look at him, "If you have come here
to talk to me about resisting what has happened today, then I will tell
you that I have no desire to throw away my life on something that is
doomed to fail before it could begin." he then paused for effect.  "I'm
well aware that you chimpanzees regard gorillas as dumb and idiotic by
instinct.  But I have no intention of proving an old prejudice at this
point."
   "You misunderstand, General," Sylvan said reassuringly, "I know you
are not stupid.  Neither am I for that matter.  Any attempt to undo the
surrender of our autonomy to these...humans, can only come about
through long-term, methodical planning."
   Ursus removed the towel draped around his mid-section and stared
quizzically at the scholar, "Do you have a long-term plan, Professor?"
   "Not at present," Sylvan conceded, "Only a general theory."
   "Then why waste my time with your pipe-dreams?" the general's voice
grew cold.
   "Because the theory should appeal to you at least," the scholar
replied, "You heard Commander Apollo talk at length about his enemies. 
These so-called Cylons."
   "So?"
   Sylvan felt himself biting his tongue to hold back a remark about
typical gorilla lack of ingenuity. "So, my dear Ursus, we must look to
the possibility of reaching out one day to that race that hates humans
as much as we do."
   The condescending skepticism suddenly disappeared from the general's
face.
   "How do you propose we do that?" he asked with genuine interest.
   "At the moment, I have no definite idea," Sylvan admitted, "I only
want your assurance that when the opportunity does present itself, I
might be able to count on you for support."
   "If you come up with a viable opportunity, then you have my
support," Ursus turned away from him and leaned back against the hot,
stone wall.  "Until you come up with a plan and opportunity, leave me
be."
   Sylvan slowly nodded as he rose and left the steam room.

   
   For several hours, three Colonials, two American astronauts, and one
primitive female and her newborn baby sat inside the vastness of St.
Patrick's Cathedral for what seemed like an eternal silence, punctuated
only by the occasional cries of baby Eve.  But ever since they had
finished going over the contents of the Testament of Mendez II, none of
them found that they had anything else to say at this point.
   Maybe we're all just too drained after this whole sick ordeal, Boxey
thought as he silently stood guard in front of the deactivated
Alpha-Omega Bomb.  Ares and Athena were lying on the left side pew
benches trying to catch up on some sleep.  Rollins was going back
through the Testament for what seemed like the fifth time, while Taylor
still attended to Nova and his daughter.
   They had accomplished so much in neutralizing the threat of the
Bomb, and in all likelihood destroying forever the power of the
mutants.  Yet in the end, too many questions still remained.  Earth
remained a planet that was far from anything the Colonials had ever
hoped for after twenty-five yahrens of lonely travel through the stars. 
There was also the problem of the siminoids.  The problem of the rest
of the primitive humans up top like Nova.  And finally, there remained
the problem of the nearby Cylon Fleet.
   Athena's suggestion on what the Alpha-Omega Bomb could conceivably
do had elated him at first, but now, with each passing hour, caution
had taken hold of Boxey's mind.  Until competent technicians like
Boomer examined the bomb and determined whether or not it could be
utilized as a viable weapon, it remained only a hope.  Perhaps it would
turn out to be a forlorn hope, just as Earth in many ways had turned
out to be.
   He wrinkled his nose slightly in disgust as he realized that the
large number of mutant corpses lining the aisles of the Cathedral where
they had been gunned down were beginning to decay.  Sooner or later,
the stench would make the place almost unbreathable.
   "Colonel Taylor," he came over to where Taylor was seated and tapped
him on the shoulder.  "You and Colonel Rollins see what you can do
about getting some of those bodies out of here."
   "You noticed, huh?" Taylor smiled mirthlessly as he kissed the
sleeping Nova and gently rested her head on the floor.  Baby Eve
remained clasped to her mother's breast, and had fallen asleep too.
   "Come on Phil, let's get some of these bastards out of here." he
nudged Rollins, who was still wrapped up in the Testament of Mendez II. 
His fellow astronaut took more than a minute before he shook himself
out of his awed stupor.
   "Oh...sorry George, what?"
   "Boxey thinks we should get some of these bodies out of the
building.  I think he's right.  You and me take one each and we'll get
started."
   Rollins set the book down on the bench and idly lifted the fallen
body of Albina up.  He shut his eyes as he flung the corpse over his
shoulder, not wanting to glance at the twisted scarred face that had
been hidden under a mask of icy beauty.  Once he had hold of it, he
opened his eyes and trudged his way down the aisle toward the great
doors at the entrance.  As soon as he was outside he dropped the corpse
and it tumbled down the steps into the street.  He turned around and
saw that Taylor had hold of Mendez's corpse.  Without batting an eye,
Taylor hurled it out as far as it could go, and the mutant leader's
body also tumbled down the steps into the street.
   Rollins started back up the steps, but felt Taylor's hand grab his
shoulder.
   "Hold it Phil," his fellow astronaut said calmly.  "I think you and
I should have a private talk."
   Rollins felt his stomach knot-up slightly, wondering if events were
going to force him to play his cards sooner than he would have liked.
   "About what?" he kept his tone casual.
   "About where we go from here," Taylor said emphatically, "Because
based on something you said to me when we first saw each other, and
your interest in the Mendez II Testament, I'm getting the distinct
impression that you haven't leveled completely with your friends."
   "I don't know what you're talking about, George," Rollins started up
again.
   "Phil, for the first time in all the years I've known you, you are
bullshitting me," he folded his arms.  "Suppose you tell me if you and
Brent are still determined to carry out the original mission
objective."
   The uniform-clad astronaut stopped and looked back at Taylor, and
decided that he had too much respect for him to hide it any longer.
   "Our objective was to bring all the survivors of the Magellan back
to the present," Rollins said, "And so far, that objective remains
unchanged from our standpoint."
   "Even though you know that the present you return to, has only
twenty years before the war breaks out?"
   "That's all the more reason why we have to fulfill the mission,"
Rollins injected a subtle edge to his tone.
   "You really think you can go back and change history," Taylor
decided to cut to the chase, "That's the game plan you and Brent are
working on, isn't it?"
   Rollins decided that he had too much respect for Taylor to shade the
truth, "That's exactly it, George."
   "And you haven't cued your friends the Colonials about that?"
   "No," he admitted.
   Taylor shook his head in disbelief, "Phil, right now I know there
are some things about those people I don't like much.  Trying to find a
practical use for something as horrible as the Alpha-Omega Bomb strikes
me as crazy.  But what strikes me as even crazier is the idea that you
can somehow go back and try to change history and make a society that
was doomed to destroy itself change its ways."
   "What's so crazy about it?" Rollins retorted, "Is it crazy to want
to go back and save five billion people from dying?  To save their
descendants from becoming either psychotic nutcases like the mutants,
or savage animals like Nova?"
   "Do you and Brent have the right to play God, Phil?" Taylor shot
back, "The people of the 20th Century had their chance and they blew
it.  That's something that can't be changed no matter how much
foreshadowing you have.   The sooner you and Brent learn to accept
that, the better off you'll both be."
   "Sorry George, but neither Brent and I share your misanthropic
streak.  We have the power and ability to prevent something horrible
from happening and if you can't see it that way...." he trailed off
purposefully.
   "Then what?" Taylor's tone grew more acid, "Then that all of a
sudden makes me a heartless murderer, by your definition?"
   "No, not a murderer," there was no humor in Rollins' tone as he kept
his arms folded. "But if you aren't willing to at least take advantage
of what you know, then that makes you something I don't ever want to
be."
   "Phil, don't even think of doing it," Taylor warned gravely, "You
and Brent would throw away your lives for nothing.  In January 1998,
the war's going to happen and the whole ugly process that turns this
planet into a planet of the apes is going to begin."
   "Even if that's so, I'd rather die like a man fighting to save
something I believe in then take the coward's way out and do nothing."
   "I wouldn't call my way cowardly," Taylor dropped his tone to a
gentler level.  "If anything, I'm willing to at least see if my
presence here in this time, and having children with Nova can help
humanity climb out of the mess he created."
   "With the help of the Colonials, I take." 
   Taylor looked back at the Cathedral, "I'm not sure about them yet,"
he confided, "They have a lot of the same faults that's made me a
confirmed misanthrope all my life, and even now they seem more anxious
to make use of Earth as a means for continuing their endless wars." he
then turned back to Rollins, "But I do think that even with their flaws
they represent a better hope than the dead and forgotten people of the
20th Century do."
   "Try telling that to Brent," Rollins grew cold again, "He's got a
family back home that he wants to see again.  A broken marriage he
wants to fix.  A daughter he wants to see grow up.  I can tell you flat
out that he's going to regard everything you just said about 20th
Century people as the biggest crock of shit imaginable."
   "Brent has my sympathy, and if he calls it a crock of shit, I
wouldn't blame him." Taylor said, "With him, I can understand why he
wants to go back.  But what about you, Phil?  You don't have any
attachments back there.  You put Barbara's death behind you a long time
ago.  You don't have any other family waiting, just like I don't.  Why
are you so determined?"
   "Maybe because of a little thing called duty and honor," Rollins
kept his arms folded.
   "Phil," Taylor said pointedly, "At the risk of sounding unpatriotic,
this whole war may very well have started because some people took
those concepts much further than they ever should have."
   "I'm not buying that," Rollins started to grow testy, "I took an
oath when I got my commission that I would do all I could to protect
the lives of innocent Americans and you took that same oath too,
George.  Now, we're being asked to uphold that oath, not just for
Americans but for the entire world!"
   "I haven't forgotten my oath, Phil," Taylor didn't want to argue
strenuously with his friend, because he had too much respect for
Rollins and his sincere devotion to principle to belittle him.  "I just
happen to think that my duty now requires me to do what I can for the
humans of this time.  For people like Nova, and my new daughter.  The
things I've done with Nova tells me that the primitives can someday
give birth to a new intelligent species of human.  We can be the ones
who teach them not to make the mistakes their ancestors did.  Those are
the people we need to be responsible for."
   "I don't care about those people, George," Rollins held his ground. 
"I care about the ones who are part of my time and my culture.  And
they're the ones you owe something to, now that you've got the power to
help save them."
   Taylor slowly shook his head, "Sorry Phil.  I don't owe the 20th
Century anything.  And neither do you for that matter."  He turned and
started to go back up the steps into the Cathedral.
   For an instant, Rollins felt the urge to shout out with the all the
authority of his military rank.  But he knew already that Taylor would
just laugh at him and metaphorically tell him to stuff it.
   A moment later, Taylor had re-emerged, holding another mutant's
body.  He tossed it into the air and it tumbled down the steps into the
street alongside those of Albina and Mendez.
   "Come on Phil," Taylor said matter-of-factly, "Boxey gave us a job
to do, so let's do it."
   Rollins sighed and started back up.  He'd only gone a step when he
suddenly stopped and frowned.
   "You hear something?" he asked Taylor.
   His fellow astronaut faintly nodded, "Yeah, come to think of it, I
do."
   Rollins moved into the street and looked up Fifth Avenue where the
rows of buildings ended twenty blocks beyond and the south border of
Central Park began.  "I think it's coming from inside the Park,"
   "Seems that way," Taylor agreed.
   An instant later, a shape that was familiar to Rollins, but not
Taylor emerged from the brown, withered foliage.
   "Well George, I guess we can relax now," Rollins grinned.  "That's
one of the Colonial's landrams."
   It took the vehicle three minutes to travel the twenty blocks down
Fifth Avenue before it came to a stop ten feet away from where Rollins
and Taylor stood.
   When the door opened, a face that was familiar to both men emerged.
   "Brent!" Rollins exclaimed as the two of them came up to their
fellow astronaut, "You found us!"
   Brent grinned wryly and glanced at Taylor, whom he hadn't seen in
five years, "And nice to see that they found you too, Taylor."
   Taylor smiled and shook his hand.  Brent, like so many of the
astronauts, was never more than a colleague to Taylor.  Someone he
could never give more than a cordial handshake to.
   "Taylor!"
   Taylor looked back at the landram and his jaw fell open in surprise
when he saw Cornelius step out.
   "Cornelius?" he came over to him and almost felt like embracing him,
"You're with them?"
   "There've been some...dramatic changes of sorts since you left us,"
the chimpanzee said.  "It's good to see you alive and well."
   "Thank you," Taylor's mind was racing.  "And Zira?"
   "She's fine and sends her love.  Nova?"
   "Doing fine, for a woman who just gave birth."
   "Really?" Cornelius's brow furrowed in amazement, "Zira suspected
she was pregnant before you left, but she didn't think the results were
conclusive enough to tell you."
   Just then, Apollo stepped out of the landram, followed by Starbuck
and Boomer.
   "I'm sorry to interrupt this reunion, but it's important we talk,"
Apollo said coolly, "Colonel RollinsC"
   "Your people are inside the Cathedral," Rollins said hastily.  "And
that includes Lieutenant Boxey.  We found him with Colonel Taylor."
   "Thank God," Apollo felt the greatest surge of relief come over him. 
"When we came across all those bodies a few miles back, we feared the
worst."
   "Bodies?" Taylor lifted an eyebrow.
   "The gorilla army was nearby earlier this day," Cornelius said,
"They massacred more than two thousand humansC"
   "Just like them!" Starbuck blurted as he pointed down to the bodies
of the three mutants lying on the ground.
   Taylor and Rollins both looked at each other and the two astronauts
suddenly started to laugh.
   "Son of a bitch," Taylor kept laughing as the irony of it hit him. 
"Son of a bitch."
   "If there's a joke somewhere in here, I missed it," Boomer said.
   Rollins wiped his eyes, "I think if we all went inside and finished
off the reunions, we'll all understand everything."
   Cornelius came back over to Taylor and the two of them led the
procession up the steps to the Cathedral entrance.


   Inside, Boxey felt slightly impatient that Taylor and Rollins seemed
to be taking their time with the bodies.  So far, only three had been
removed and the two of them were still outside.  He was half tempted to
go outside and find out what they were up to, but he knew he couldn't
leave the Alpha-Omega Bomb unattended for an instant.
   He moved down from the altar to the front pew on the left side and
decided to rouse his two fellow Colonials.
   "Athena?" he said as he nudged his aunt and then moved over to the
Security Guard, "Come on Ares, get up."
   The two Colonials stirred only slightly and rose from the pew bench.
   "Anything new?" Athena rubbed her eyes slightly and got to her feet.
   "Our two friends from the past were supposed to be clearing out some
of these dead mutants but they've been outside for five centons now,"
Boxey said with faint disdain, "I think one of you should go outside
and have a look."
   Athena looked over at the guard, "Ares?"
   "Sure thing," he nodded and detached his laser pistol, and made his
way to the center aisle that would lead to the exit.  
   

   "You said a lot of changes have happened," Taylor was saying to his
old friend as they reached the top step, "Have the Colonials moved in
and taken over?"
   "I wouldn't put it that way," the archeologist said as Taylor pulled
open the door and motioned Cornelius to enter first.
   The instant the chimpanzee entered, an angry, high-pitched voice
suddenly shouted, "Siminoid!"
   Before Taylor could get inside, the red streak of a laser blast
slammed against the door, just missing the top of Cornelius's head by
inches.
   "What theB?" Taylor managed to blurt as he quickly grabbed his
chimpanzee friend and got him down to the ground.  Behind them, the
three Colonials suddenly began to sprint as fast as they could inside
the Cathedral.
   "What in Hades is going on?" Apollo shouted as he entered waving his
arms, "For sagan's sake put away your weapons!"
   At the end of the sanctuary, Athena and Boxey were both stunned to
see the man who was brother to one and father to the other emerge.  But
by far, the stunned look on Ares' face was greater than their's put
together as he still held his weapon raised high and ready to fire
again.
   Apollo looked over at the Colonial Security Guard and raised his
voice, "Lieutenant Ares, put down your fracking weapon, now!"
   "Commander, that was a siminoid!" Ares protested, feeling the hatred
for the race that had killed his protege Sergeant Bernabe re-emerge
after laying dormant for more than a day.
   "I know what he is!  They're not a threat anymore!" he moved down
the aisle toward the altar where Boxey and Athena stood.  "It's all
taken care of."
   When he reached the altar, the reunion was more subdued than he'd
anticipated it being.

                    Chapter Sixteen

   Several hours passed as information exchanged hands among the two
groups of people and one chimpanzee.  Some of it exchanged openly in
front of all, other parts revealed out of earshot to some, among only a
few.  In particular, the information exchanged between Rollins and
Brent.
   "Taylor's not budging," the commander of the Magellan II said with a
trace of glumness as he walked down the side aisle with his co-pilot. 
"And without Taylor, any idea of returning to the present is shot to
Hell."
   "Damn," Brent clenched his teeth, "That son-of-a-bitch hasn't
changed a bit."
   "What's worse, he may end up telling the Colonials about our game
plan," Rollins stopped and looked back at the altar where the rest of
the party was gathered in front of the Alpha-Omega Bomb.  "And if that
happens...." he trailed off.
   The sandy-haired major nodded, "It means that we're stuck in this
ass-backwards future forever," he then shook his head vigorously, "If I
have to face that prospect I'd rather blow my brains out."


   Boomer spent the better part of ten centons on his stomach, closely
examining the components of the Alpha-Omega Bomb.  Behind him, there
was an edge of anxious tension on the faces of each of the Colonials
since they all knew that his evaluation could have more important
ramifications than anything else that had happened this day.
   The Chief Scientist then got to his feet and shook his head with an
air of incredulity.
   "Unbelievable," he whispered, "Just unbelievable."
   "Well what does that mean, Boomer?" Starbuck asked impatiently, "Is
it usable or isn't it?"
   Boomer smiled thinly at his old friend, "Yeah, Starbuck it is.  The
contours of this baby would be a perfect fit inside one of our missile
banks like an old pair of boots."
   "And the firepower?" Apollo asked, equally anxious.
   "The firepower makes one of our missiles look like a stick by
comparison," Boomer was still amazed.  "This one baby alone could take
out a whole task force...theoretically."
   "Theoretically," Athena said, trying not to let her hopes be raised
too much, "You mean there's a catch?"
   "Yeah, there's a catch," Boomer said and looked at Taylor, "I
appreciate what you told me, Colonel Taylor.  Because it's clear to me
that what makes this bomb so lethal is what it does once it comes into
contact with any substance that has a reasonable percentage of oxygen. 
It sucks it up and sets off a chain reaction that..." he shuddered.
   "We know that, Boomer," Boxey folded his arms, "What's the catch?"
   "The catch, Boxey, is that if you set this thing off in space, it's
absolutely worthless.  There's no oxygen in space for the bomb to take
hold of and unleash its full power.  Oh sure, you'd get one nasty bang
that could have the same effect as one missile at best, but nothing
more.  If you don't set it off in a planet's atmosphere that has a
reasonable oxygen content, you might as well forget it."
   "I guess that does it," Starbuck sighed, "It gives us one more
missile to replace the one we used ten yahrens ago, but with three
baseships stalking us, that doesn't amount to what we need."
   Apollo stared at the weapon of destruction and absently rubbed his
chin.
   "Maybe not," the commander said, "Boomer, what would happen if three
baseships were orbiting a planet at the time this thing was set off?"
   "Well in that case it'd turn them all into space dust in half a
micron, but..." he trailed off as light suddenly dawned on him.
   Taylor realized it too and stepped forward with a look of
bewilderment, "Wait a second.  Are you thinking about destroying this
planet to..."
   "Not this planet, Colonel Taylor!" Apollo impatiently snapped, "I'm
talking about one of the other planets in this solar system."
   "Of course," Starbuck nodded as it hit him, "If the Cylon taskforce
were lured into orbit about one of the other planets, we could set off
the missile and destroy them all in one shot."
   "Exactly," Apollo nodded, "And that just might get the Cylons off
our backs forever.  We're so far from the Cylon home planet that they
might not think it worth the effort to send another task force out
again."
   "I hate to rain on your parade, but I think there's something you
ought to know," Taylor said sourly, "The only other planet in this
system that has a reasonable amount of oxygen in its atmosphere is
Mars, the only planet we had landings on.  But if you destroy Mars you
risk fouling up the orbital path of the Earth and fouling up the
weather patterns and the ecosystem by extension.  Hell, you might even
cause large chunks of meteors to hit the Earth and wreak more havoc
than the goddamned war did."
   "Then we won't do it there," Apollo didn't look at him.
   "Do I have to repeat myself?" Taylor felt his temper growing short. 
"I said there are no other planets in this system with a sufficient
oxygen content for you to set this thing off.  You can only set it off
on Earth or Mars to achieve the results you want, and you can't very
well do that."
   "We'll examine all of the distant outer planets to see if one of
them is sufficient," Apollo kept staring at the bomb, "And if we have
to go to another star system to fight the battle, we can do that.  It's
only a hop, skip and jump to any one of three nearby star systems
within a radius of ten light yahrens."
   
   "I don't believe this!" Taylor threw up his arms in disgust, as he
walked away from the altar to the front pew bench where Nova and Eve
had been moved to.  "You finally do a sensible thing and settle things
with the Apes, and now you're back to talking about using a horrible
weapon like this to blow up planets."
   Apollo turned back to him, "Colonel Taylor, I don't know if this has
sunk in with you yet, but the enemy we face beyond this planet is one
that will stop at nothing to see every last life form that isn't a
machine exterminated from the face of the universe."
   "Commander Apollo," Taylor said quietly, "Your wars are not my
concern.  One reason why I left my time was to get away from a society
where war seemed to be the natural way of things.  And I'm not about to
be a part of where I have to face more of the same."
   He gently lifted Nova, still holding her baby, to her feet.
   "Come on Nova," he whispered tenderly, "We're finally leaving this
place."
   "Colonel Taylor," Apollo said matter-of-factly, "Just where do you
think you're going?"
   The one-time astronaut looked back at the group, "I don't know,
Commander.  Just some place far as I possibly can get from you, the
Apes, the mutants, the whole damned lot of you!  Maybe the only way I
can see humanity saved is to just start over myself with Nova like I'd
planned on before I was captured."
   "Cornelius," Apollo turned to the chimpanzee, who had been watching
the proceedings in both fascination, and now unease.
   The archeologist descended the altar and caught up with him.
   "Taylor, please, don't be so rash!  They mean well.  You have to
trust them on this!"
   Taylor smiled at his ape friend, "Cornelius," he put his hand on his
shoulder, "If what they do helps your civilization, then I'll be happy
for both you and Zira.  But it's something I can't be part of.  Not if
I'm finally going to have a little piece of sanity for the rest of my
life."
   "Taylor, you'd be condemning yourself to death senselessly!  Not
just you but Nova and your daughter too!" he motioned to them, "The
nearest place you could settle might be hundreds of miles from here. 
You'd never make it.  At least ask for their help to transport you and
Nova to safety."
   "I don't think I need it," Taylor said, "There's enough food for me
to forage down here for awhile, especially since all the mutants are
dead.  And since I don't have to worry about the Apes anymore up top
thanks to the little peace deal that's been struck, I can take my time
gathering what I need in the jungles near to Ape City before I set out
again for whatever's beyond the Forbidden Zone."
   "But Taylor, why?"
   Taylor sighed, "Cornelius, I think after all these months, what I am
sick and tired of the most is not being in control of my life.  An ape
cell, a mutant cell, and now getting tied up in the intrigues of my
fellow astronauts on the one hand," he pointed over to the end of the
Cathedral where Rollins and Brent had been.  The two astronauts had now
stepped outside though and were no longer visible or in earshot. "And
the Colonials on the other.  I've had it.  I just want my own life back
and the power to chart my own path with no help from anyone but
myself."
   On the altar, Starbuck suddenly grabbed Apollo's arm, "What does he
mean the 'intrigues' of his fellow astronauts?"
   Apollo grimly nodded, "I think he just inadvertently revealed
something I've been suspecting about Rollins and Brent for quite some
time."
   "Taylor, don't do this," Cornelius was almost pleading, "Think for a
moment, will you?"
   Taylor ignored him and helped Nova to her feet, making sure that
their child was securely wrapped in her arms.  "We're going, Nova," he
whispered gently to her.  "We're finally leaving this horrible place. 
You, me and our daughter.  Let's go."
   She nodded faintly at him and smiled.  They began to walk down the
aisle toward the main entrance.
   "Aren't you going to stop him?" Cornelius wheeled around and glared
at the Colonials.
   "I don't think we have to," Apollo stepped down from the altar and
came up to him.  "If I'm right, his friends are going to have something
to say about that any micron now." he paused, "And that's finally going
to let us take care of some important business with them, too." 


   Rollins and Brent had stepped outside to the Cathedral steps to
continue their conversation in private, when they saw Taylor and Nova
emerge.
   "Where are you going, George?" Rollins frowned.
   Taylor and Nova moved pass them both without acknowledging them.
   "Taylor, where are you going?" Brent raised his voice.
   Taylor stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked back at them
with determination, "I'm out of here, guys.  Whatever it is that you
have planned, and whatever it is that the Colonials have planned has
nothing to do with me or Nova or our child as far as I'm concerned." he
then paused and allowed himself one instant of empathy, "Take care of
yourselves."
   He started to walk away up Fifth Avenue, his arm wrapped tightly
about Nova's waist.  On the Cathedral steps, Rollins felt his body
tense.
   "You can't let him," Brent whispered, feeling a rising tide of rage,
"You can't let him go, Skipper."
   "I know," the colonel nodded and then took a breath, "God forgive
me."  Rollins then pulled out his laser pistol and descended the steps
to street level.
   "Stop right there, George!" he called out.
   Taylor didn't turn around as he and Nova continued to walk away.
   "George, I've got a laser pistol pointed at your back, right now. 
I'll fire it to stun you if you don't turn around and bring your ass
back here, immediately!"
   That got Taylor's attention.  He came to a stop, leaned over and
whispered something to Nova, who then moved over to the sidewalk and
sat down.  Then, the commander of the original Magellan expedition
turned around and looked back at Rollins in disbelief.
   "You wouldn't dare," he whispered.
   "Try me," Rollins raised the pistol.  "I've got orders to bring you
back, Colonel Taylor, and goddammnit that's what's going to happen."
   "Sorry Phil," Taylor said quietly, "Tell Nixon I resigned my
commission the day I crashed here.  I don't take orders from him or
from you or from anyone else anymore."
   Brent moved up alongside Rollins and stared at Taylor with total
contempt.  "Boy, you haven't changed one fucking bit, have you Taylor?"
the sandy-haired major's tone was livid.  "Still the gutless coward
who's unwilling to work within the system and do something that'll fix
it.  With you, it's always run away on your belly and look for
something that isn't there and never will be.  Some perfect little spot
in the universe where you alone can be the Lord and Master and make all
the rules and create the world in your own gutless image."
   Taylor's expression darkened and he took one step back.  But only
one step.  At that moment, he wanted to reach out and sock Brent right
in the jaw.
   "I'll tell you what I call a coward, Brent.  And that goes for you
too, Phil.  That's being too cowardly to face up to reality and admit
that your precious universe is gone forever and you can't bring it
back.  The 20th Century isn't still waiting there for you to return to
and pick up from where you left off and rewrite the script.  It's just
a forgotten memory like all the things in this godforsaken wasteland."
he spread his arms around, "That's what's left of your reality.  Nixon,
Hasslein, NASA, the U.S. Air Force, and all the other people in that
reality are all dust.  Dead and buried a long time ago."
   "Shut up!" Brent hissed, "You're full of shit, Taylor.  That reality
includes a daughter I want to see grow up and a wife I want back. 
They're still alive at the other end of Hasslein's blueprint for
getting back, and as soon as we get the Magellan II fixed, that's what
we're going to do!"
   "Brent, you're more naive than I think if you really believe those
people are going to let you go back to the past," Taylor only allowed
himself to be a little gentle with Brent, given the personal stake he
had.
   "We'll deal with that in time, George," Rollins said quietly, the
pistol still trained on Taylor.
   "Just like you plan on dealing with me?" Taylor scoffed, "I still
don't think you have the guts to fire at me, even if it is just on
stun."
   Rollins slowly sucked in his breath and visibly swallowed several
times as he kept the pistol trained on Taylor.  Standing next to him,
Brent could see the nervous sweat pouring out of every opening on his
forehead.
   A full minute passed and still, Rollins did not fire.
   Taylor had started to move one step away from the two astronauts
when Brent suddenly delivered a sharp elbow to Rollins' ribs, causing
the senior astronaut to stagger and drop the laser.  In an instant,
Brent had snatched it from the ground, made a quick adjustment and had
it trained on Taylor again.  A malevolent grin lined the sandy-haired
major's face.
   "Brent, what theC" Taylor was stunned by the turn of events while
Rollins groaned and struggled back to his feet.
   "I just readjusted the setting on this to kill, Taylor." there was
cold hate in Brent's voice. "My time aboard the Galactica enabled me to
learn a few rudimentary things."
   Taylor went ashen, "Brent, have you lost your mind?"
   "Brent," Rollins tried to catch his breath as he moved back toward
him. "Give that back toC"
   "Shut up!" Brent snarled and shoved Rollins aside, "This is one
thing I'm going to handle myself."
   Rollins tried to move back in but Brent suddenly pointed the pistol
at him, "Don't make a move, Skipper," he whispered.
   "Major," Rollins injected his old command edge back into his voice,
"Give that back to me."
   "Not a chance, Skipper," Brent shook his head, "Taylor's right.  You
wouldn't have the guts to shoot him and carry out the mission.  You're
the only guy in the whole astronaut corps who actually liked the
son-of-a-bitch.  But I hate his guts like everyone else who ever had
the misfortune to be cramped inside a space capsule with him, and that
means I do have the guts to shoot him and carry this out."
   "That doesn't include killing him, for Christ's sake!"
   "Not him," Brent then moved the pistol away from Taylor and now
aimed it squarely at Nova, who was still sitting on the sidewalk
holding Eve.
   For the first time, an expression of genuine fear came over Taylor.
   "Make one move at me Skipper, and I'm pulling the trigger.  And that
goes for you too, Taylor.  All I need is a fraction of a second to do
it and kill her."
   "Brent," Taylor whispered, "For the love of God, no.  Kill me if you
want to, but don't...."
   "But don't what?" Brent snarled, "Kill your precious wife and
daughter?  What a fucking grade-A, made-in-the-USA hypocrite you are,
Taylor.  You've already killed mine by not coming so why should I give
a damn about yours?  What gives you the right to decide that your loved
ones matter more than mine?"
   "Brent, I really feel sorry for you," Taylor shook his head, "You
never should have come on this mission.  You should have stayed behind
and enjoyed the twenty years you had left."
   "But I didn't, did I?" he grinned malevolently, "I came here to pull
your ass out of the fire and got a nice sneak preview about what
happens to the only two people I love.  And that means I have a chance
to save their lives and let them enjoy more than just twenty fucking
years." he tightened his grip on the pistol, "They deserve more than
twenty years."
   The Cathedral door opened and Apollo emerged at the top of the
steps, flanked by Cornelius, Starbuck, Athena and Boxey.
   "What's going on?" Apollo called out.
   "Don't interfere, Commander!" Brent shouted back without taking his
eye and aim off Nova, "This doesn't concern you!"
   "Yes it does, Commander!" Taylor interjected, still feeling terror
and panic inside him like never before, "It seems that Major Brent has
decided to kill my wife and child unless I agree to come back with him
and Colonel Rollins to our own time!"
   Rollins felt his heart sink slightly since he now realized that any
chance of getting back to the present had likely just evaporated now
that it was out in the open.  Even so, he decided not to stop and raise
his voice in protest because he found what Brent was doing, even in the
name of a cause he believed in, to be morally repugnant.
   Starbuck detached his pistol and prepared to aim it at Brent, but
Apollo grabbed his arm, "No, don't.  He might still get a chance to
fire at them."
   The grizzled warrior reluctantly nodded and put it back.
   "What do we do then?" Boxey asked, feeling sick to his stomach at
what was transpiring. 
   "Nothing for the moment," Apollo said calmly, "This requires
delicate handling."
   "Brent," Taylor felt his mind racing as he tried to think of
something he could say that would get his point across without showing
any hatred or contempt, "Stop and think for a moment.  Yes, I agree
with you, your wife and daughter deserved to live.  They didn't deserve
what happened when the war broke out and the bombs went flying and the
world got turned upside down.  But neither did the six million Jews
Hitler killed, or the million doughboys killed in the trenches at
Verdun, or the kids at Gettysburg.  They all deserved to live.  If you
want to change history, why don't you go back even further and fix some
of the screw-ups that happened even before our generation?"
   "You're pathetic, you know that?" Brent shook his head in disgust. 
"I don't give a shit about the generations before mine.  I only care
about my own.  As far as I'm concerned, my wife and daughter are still
alive and waiting for me, and I'm going to save their lives from
something that hasn't happened yet."
   Rollins knew that the time had come to show some command initiative. 
All the time, he had used Brent's tragic situation as a bargaining chip
with Taylor to make him realize the importance of why Taylor had to
come back.  But he had no intention of letting Brent usurp his
authority this way and take matters into his own hands by resorting to
a despicable tactic.
   "Major Brent," Rollins said coldly, "If you don't put that weapon
down in ten seconds, you'll never see your wife and daughter again."
   "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Brent didn't look
at him.
   "It means Major, that if you kill an innocent woman and baby to try
and get what you want, then I will have you executed for murder.  I'm
not going to have a cold-blooded killer in my command.  Now I'm giving
you a direct order!"
   "Shove it, Colonel." Brent almost spat.
   Right away, Taylor could see what Rollins was going to do.  He began
to inch his way toward the sidewalk where Nova lay cradling Eve, her
wide brown eyes filled with fear and panic.
   At the top of the Cathedral steps, Apollo felt the hair rise on the
back of his neck, "Get your weapon ready on stun," he whispered
urgently to the other three warriors.
   Rollins suddenly lunged at Brent, while Taylor leapt over to shield
Nova and Eve.  As soon as Brent felt Rollins bump against him, he
pulled the trigger.  The laser shot went wild and struck the side of
the building next to where Nova and Eve lay, missing them by only two
feet.
   Rollins had forced Brent to the ground but the major's grip on the
laser pistol remained tight.
   "Come on you son-of-a-bitch!" Rollins felt his anger rising, "Let go
of it!"
   "Get off!" Brent channeled his hate and anger and managed to shove
him off.  He had the advantage being eight years younger than the
Magellan II commander.  He got to his feet and pointed the pistol at
Rollins with a menacing snarl.
   "As a commander, you're a joke," he hissed, "First you crash the
fucking ship and kill Fowler.  Then you don't have the guts to do what
you should have done with Taylor.  And now, you're throwing the whole
precious mission down the goddamned toilet."
   "Get ready," Apollo whispered as Athena, Starbuck and Boxey trained
their pistols at Brent's back.
   But then, as if Brent sensed what was going on, he spun round and
waved the pistol at them, "Don't even think of it, Commander.  I'll
open fire on any one of you, or Rollins or Taylor.  I don't care what
happens to me anymore, I just...." he broke off, as he felt the tide of
emotion inside him rise up, "I just..." he choked back his words and it
was clear that he was on the verge of breaking down.  "I want to go
home!" he almost whimpered.
   Rollins took a cautious step forward, "Okay Brent," he said coldly,
"Which one of us is it going to be?  Who are you going to execute to
pay for the crime of not going back?"
   Brent forced himself to look at Rollins.  The commander could see
tears streaming down the face of his second in command.  He lifted the
pistol again so that Rollins was staring right into the barrel.
   Suddenly, Brent swung the pistol around so that it was pointed at
his head and pulled the trigger.
   "Brent!" Taylor got to his feet.
   The four Colonials, two astronauts, one primitive and one chimpanzee
watched in horror as Brent collapsed to the street in a motionless dead
weight.
   Rollins knelt beside him and went through the motions of feeling for
a pulse, even though he already knew it was pointless.  He sadly shook
his head as he pried the laser pistol out of Brent's fingers and then
hurled it down the street as far as he could throw it.


   Ten minutes later, they were all back in the Cathedral.  The
Colonials had quietly returned to the altar to assist Boomer and Ares
in their work on disassembling the Alpha-Omega Bomb from its mounting. 
Cornelius was looking after Nova and Eve.  The primitive female seemed
relaxed about the chimpanzee, indicating that she still remembered from
long ago how Cornelius had been among those who had helped her.
   On a front bench, Taylor sat next to Rollins, who was staring
blankly into space.
   "Phil," Taylor finally decided to break the silence, "I'm sorry.  As
God as my witness, I'm sorry."
   "It's not your fault," Rollins refused to look at him.  His voice
was flat and devoid of emotion.  "I just never realized how cracked
Brent was underneath.  When he said he'd rather blow his brains out
than stay in an ass-backwards future, I was naive enough to think it
was just a figure of speech."
   Taylor idly glanced back, contemplating over his fellow astronaut
lying dead by his own hand in the street, "God have mercy on him," he
whispered, "And if so, I hope he's with his family now."
   Rollins let out an ironic laugh, "I never knew you were a religious
man, George.  I thought it went against all of your instincts."
   "Come on Phil, quit toying with me," Taylor pleaded slightly, "Look,
I know it's out in the open now and you can't go back, butC"
   "Don't even bother," Rollins sighed, "I suppose it was inevitable
anyway.  How could they fix the ship, all wrecked out in the desert,
and your ship at the bottom of Long Island Sound with poor Stewart
rotting inside?  And why would they let us go back anyway?" he skipped
a beat, "Too many time-space paradoxes that could affect them.  What
would going back and changing the past do to the people of the present
you left behind?  Would they wink out of existence?  Would their lives
suddenly be ended?" he let out another ironic laugh, "Oh, Hasslein knew
all about that crap when he spent his days and nights coming up with
the blueprint for our mission.  He knew all about the ethical questions
time travel raises.  But it wasn't supposed to mean anything because
none of us ever thought you ended up back on Earth.  All the time we
just thought it was going to be some other star system far off the
track from Betelgeuse.  Then it would have been an impersonal future we
were changing.  Not a future with other people, with another human
civilization, with...." he shook his head and trailed off, still trying
to come to terms with what had happened.
   "I know what you mean," Taylor admitted, "I know what you mean."
   Rollins still couldn't face him, "Right at that moment when Brent
was prepared to blow away Nova and Eve, I realized that it wasn't worth
it anymore.  All of a sudden, for the first time, the people in this
universe became real to me, and....for better or worse, I guess I have
to accept being a part of it.  It...well it is playing God to decide
that the innocent lives that are struggling in this time can't have
their own chance to set the world right again."
   "Because going back and changing the past was supposed to be an
impersonal experience, right?" Taylor gently prodded, "Just warm up the
ship and before you know it, you're radioing Cape Canaveral for landing
instructions and it's a done deal.  No pointing the barrel of a gun at
someone to make it happen."
   "Exactly," he leaned back, "Maybe that's why Vietnam never got to
me, because flying bombing missions was so damned impersonal."
   Taylor sighed, "Brent made you realize a lot, didn't he?" he looked
up at the Cathedral ceiling, "He was right about one thing.  I was
running out like a coward just now.  I've got to stop searching for
something better than man.  I do need to work within a system that
exists.  And it has to be the one the Colonials are setting up. 
They're flawed but they do seem like they're not geared toward a path
of inevitable destruction by their own hands."
   "So you don't have any qualms about them using the Alpha-Omega Bomb
against these Cylon enemies of theirs?" Rollins finally looked at him
for the first time.
   "Yeah, I've got qualms," Taylor admitted, "But...well if they had to
drop the bomb on Hiroshima to save lives, I suppose they have to use
this vile weapon to save lives too.  I only hope..." he shuddered, "I
only hope they're sane enough not to think of having any more lying
around again."
   "May not be possible," Rollins noted, "There's the one bomb that was
at SAC headquarters in Omaha.  And we don't know where the third one
was kept, or if others were developed by the Soviets or the Chinese."
   "And hopefully we never will know," Taylor said, "This planet needs
to have a viable future.  Humans and apes together."  he then glanced
over to where Cornelius was sitting with Nova and Eve.
   "There might be a few dissenters," Rollins warily glanced at the
altar, thinking of Ares, and wondering if all of the apes who had fired
on them the other day and killed Sergeant Bernabe would ever be able to
let go of all their base instincts toward humans. "And the only
question is if what they think and feel will ever linger long enough to
the point where it'll spread again."
   "I guess it's up to people like us to keep that from happening,"
Taylor said, "Working within the system."
   Rollins nodded, unable to say anything else.


   "I've got it unhooked from the mountings," Boomer said as he got to
his feet and put some of his cutting instruments away.  "All we need to
do is attach some anti-gravs like we used to use for loading missiles
into the launch tubes and we can move this thing out."
   "Terrific," Apollo said, "I think it's time we get in touch with the
Galactica and see about that.  We'll send a shuttle in to bring her
out."
   "Load her up and then head into battle?" Athena wryly inquired.
   "From what Hera told me, I don't think we have any choice," Apollo
said, "The three basestars are just hanging right there within scanner
range to try and wear down inner morale.  We're going to have to take
decisive action as soon as we possibly can or else the nerves of a lot
of people inside the Fleet are going to crack." he took a breath, "This
is the battle I've wanted to avoid all my life, but I just know that
our hand is being forced." he paused, "Let's get going.  We need to
pick up Tinia and the others back in Ape City, not to mention that
delegation from the Ape government.  Boomer, you, Starbuck and Ares
will stand by and maintain guard here until the team arrives."
   "Okay," Boomer nodded and turned to his old friend, "You up to
looking after this thing for a few centars, Bucko?"
   "After the other day?" Starbuck smirked, "You better believe it. 
Besides, guard duty with you will make me feel sentimental for old
times again."
   "All right, the rest of you let's get moving." Apollo said to the
rest of the party as he descended the steps.  "We still have a long day
ahead of us."
   Taylor got up from his bench and went over to the other side where
Cornelius was looking after Nova and Eve.
   "Commander," Rollins said quietly as he got up, "Before we go, I
think something should be done about Major Brent."
   "What do you mean?"
   "I mean a decent burial," Rollins said with a trace of emphasis, "He
deserves some dignity.  He doesn't deserve to rot in the street with
all those...." he struggled on the word, "Those other people."
   "I understand," Apollo nodded.
   "Also, there was the other member of my expedition, Captain Fowler. 
His body is still inside the wreck of my ship.  I know I'd like to make
arrangements for him too."
   "It'll be taken care of," Apollo promised.
   "Thank you," there was genuine relief in the Magellan II commander's
face.
   As Taylor took charge of Nova and Eve, he felt the same thing too
and made a mental note to speak to Cornelius about getting the stuffed
and mounted body of Dodge taken out of the Ape Museum for proper
internment.  That was all he could do with regard to the others from
his own crew.  Stewart already had her tomb at the bottom of Long
Island Sound in the Magellan's rotting carcass.  With Landon, nothing
could ever be done since Landon technically wasn't dead.  Only mentally
dead and beyond all hope with his brain cut out, wandering aimlessly
amongst the jungles with the rest of the primitives.  He had already
vowed that if he ever ran into Landon again, he would finally put the
one-time astronaut out of his uncomprehending Hell and kill him.
   Slowly, the group left the Cathedral to begin the trek back to Ape
City.


   Aboard the Galactica, Sheba felt the sensation of having been on the
Bridge for endless yahrens.  Since the end of the attack and the word
from Omega that the three basestars had moved into scanning range, she
had found herself unable to leave.  The responsibility of all the lives
in the Fleet rested with her now, and if something new was going to
happen she wanted to be on top of the situation right from the
beginning.
   "Report from Green Leader coming in, Colonel," Omega reported.
   "Thank you," she nodded and placed the headset on, "What's the
situation Jolly?"
   "Spooky," Green Leader replied, "We actually got close enough to
make a visual scan.  You'd almost think those three ships were deserted
the way they just hang there doing nothing."
   "Keep out of visual scan!" the Deputy Fleet Commander warned
sharply, "They'll fire at any one of you that gets close enough just to
remind you that they're not dead.  I want you to keep your group lined
up in a perimeter screen to take care of the first ships that come off
those monsters."
   "Yes, Colonel.  Standing by on the perimeter."
   "Red and Blue Squadrons will relieve you in five centars.  Hang
tight for now and keep your eyes peeled," Sheba pulled the headset off
and almost collapsed into her command chair in front of the scanner
console.  She absently rubbed her temples and wondered if the
psychological strategy the Cylons were employing was finally starting
to take a toll even on her.
   She glanced over at Omega, who could tell from her expression what
it was she wanted to know.  The senior bridge officer simply shook his
head.
   Apollo, she sighed forlornly as she looked back at the scanner, will
you please get back here, now.


   As soon as the landram had reached the forest areas near Ape City
they had stopped to bury Brent's body.  Rollins and Taylor both saw to
it that some stones were placed on the mound to mark it along with a
makeshift cross formed from two sticks.  When they were done, the
Magellan II commander then placed a note he had scribbled on the top,
knowing it wouldn't survive the elements but determined that the record
be preserved.

MAJOR JOHN CHRISTOPHER BRENT, USAF
Born: May 6, 1937 Houston, TX
Died: June 15, 3979 New York, NY
Beloved husband and father.  Served his
country with honor and distinction.

   As Rollins stared down at the makeshift grave, he couldn't help but
wish that Fate would have prevented both Brent and Fowler from ever
having been a part of the Magellan II mission.  At the very least, they
could have used the twenty years left before the war of 1998 began to
put everything right with their loved ones and see to it that no loose
threads remained when the end finally came.  Instead, they had both
died in a faraway and distant place across time itself.  Their loved
ones had waited each day wondering when they would come back and been
forced to spend the rest of their lives wondering what had happened to
them.  In Brent's case, his ex-wife and daughter could never have known
that it had been his determined desire to get back and see them again
that had ultimately killed him.
   Brutal, he shook his head sadly.  Just brutal.  To alleviate his
sense of sorrow, he recited the 23rd Psalm to himself, hoping that at
the very least the Lord had made a reunion with loved ones possible for
both of them at last.
   "We have to go now, gentlemen," Apollo said gently as he looked out
the landram entryway.
   "Okay," Taylor acknowledged as he knelt down and felt his
long-forgotten Catholicism come back as he made the sign of the cross. 
When he got to his feet, he and Rollins both went back into the landram
and the vehicle resumed its journey back to Ape City.
   An hour later they had finally returned and saw that Hera, Tinia and
the Security unit were all waiting in the Main Square.  Zira, Claudius,
Zaius and several other apes, a mixture of all three classes were with
them.  It was clear that there had been some intense conversation among
them all.
   When Zira saw Taylor emerge first from the vehicle, she came up to
him with outstretched arms.
   "Taylor!" she felt relief and delight that the only human being she
had come to love like a kinsman was alive and well.
   Taylor smiled and gave her a friendly embrace, deciding not to give
her a kiss like he had done when they'd said goodbye on the beach
before he and Nova had left for the Forbidden Zone.  "Zira, it's so
good to see you again."
   "Mr. President," Apollo said as he emerged from the vehicle and came
up to Claudius, "Is your delegation ready to accompany us to the
Galactica?"
   "We are," the Ape President nodded and motioned to the group of
five. "Dr. Milo, one of our eminent scientists in the field of
technology.  Honorius, our Minister of Justice and administrator of our
codes.  And of course, you know Dr. Zaius."
   "If you would all step inside, we'll be leading you to our shuttle
and then back to our ship," Apollo motioned.  "I'm certain you will all
find this to be the most rewarding experience of your lives."
   "It will certainly be....interesting," Dr. Zaius spoke dryly.  He
had yet to reach the point where he could feel comfortable speaking to
these humans with any pretense of warmth.  For now though, pragmatism
dictated going along with the will of the majority or else his days as
a powerholder would be over forever.
   "I'm glad you feel that way, Dr. Zaius," Apollo smiled thinly,
seeing the irony at how the ape who had been prepared to see him placed
in a cage was now being forced to sing a different tune.  As soon as he
had motioned the Ape delegation inside, he came over to Hera and Tinia
who remained outside.
   "We're going to have to see to it that an emergency Council meeting
be called the micron we're aboard," Apollo said to his fellow Council
member.  "And right away I need your assurance that you'll be prepared
to talk as loudly as I am about how conciliation and friendship with
this race is a non-debatable subject, no matter how angry they're going
to be over what happened to Antipas."
   "You have my assurance of that," Tinia nodded fervently.  
   "We'll talk more about that later.  In the meantime, you get inside
and I'll join you in a micron after I take care of some business with
Ensign Hera."
   As soon as Tinia had disappeared inside the landram and Apollo was
alone with his daughter, he kept his tone all business. "You fly back
ahead of us to the Fleet and don't bother to fly in escort formation. 
I want you to brief your mother on everything you know before we get
there."
   "Of course," Hera nodded, "Anything else?"
   Apollo was silent for a few microns, his expression growing
tight-lipped.  "As a matter of fact there is," his tone didn't change,
"But that's something that has to wait until some more important
matters are resolved first."
   Hera stiffened slightly and decided that this cool attitude of his
had gone on long enough.  "Father, let's cut the felgercarb right here
and now and deal with it.  You're upset with me.  You're disappointed
with me.  Okay fine.  What happened, happened and I'm going to just
deal with it like a mature adult, just like someone else you once knew
had to deal with an identical situation a long time ago."
   When she saw him flinch slightly she knew right away that he'd
figured out what she meant by her cryptic reference to Serina.
   "I'll accept the consequences of what I did, but I won't let myself
be subjected to any lectures about my moral failure, or any cold
treatment.  The only thing I want is to know that at least I can keep
counting on you for love and support as my father, and that when my
child is born you'll give it the love it's entitled as your
grandchild."
   "Hera, that's never been the issue," Apollo said patiently, "I'm
always going to give you that, soC"
   "So why do we need to hash this out any further?" his daughter
folded her arms.  "If you're already conceding the only thing that
ultimately matters, then why do we have to get caught up in any petty
recriminations over the details?"
   "HeraC" he started but was again cut off.
   "You just told Tinia how there can't be any debate over making peace
with the apes, and that details like Sire Antipas being shot down can't
matter.  Well if you're so willing to look at the bigger picture right
away when it comes to diplomacy, then why in Hades can't you do that
with me?"
   Apollo didn't say anything.  He realized at that point that he
didn't have anything else to say.  Her point had been simple and
effective.  It reminded him of her mother and how she had confronted
him in the Cylon fighter cockpit long ago, and revealed her true
feelings for him.
   "Okay," he sighed, "Okay, you've made your point.  That doesn't mean
there aren't things we should still talk about, but....you're right
about the larger issue.  I'm sorry, Hera."
   She seemed relieved, "Thank you, Father."
   "Commander?" Tinia stuck her head out of the landram, "Shouldn't we
be going now?"
   "Yes, we should," Apollo acknowledged and headed over to the
vehicle.  Before he stepped in he looked back at his daughter and
smiled warmly, "Carry on Ensign."
   Hera smiled as well and felt like the last weight had been taken off
her shoulder as she headed back to her viper.

                    Chapter Seventeen

   As soon as the conglomeration of humans and apes had arrived at the
shuttle and had boarded, Apollo found himself unable to take his eyes
off the faces of any of the apes.  Wanting to know what their reaction
would be when they felt themselves airborne for the first time in their
lives, and when they entered space.
   He would not be disappointed.  The instant the shuttle lifted off,
he saw Dr. Zaius's eyes bulge and his hands clutch the side of his
seat.  By contrast, Cornelius and Zira felt more of a sense of wonder
and amazement that they were experiencing what had only seemed in the
realm of the miraculous before.
   The Galactica commander leaned back in his chair and almost sighed
with relief.  As far as he was concerned he had made the absolute best
of what had been a bad situation going in.  The end result would still
be nothing close to what so many people in the Fleet had hoped for
these last twenty-five yahrens, but at least if all went well in the
battle that lay ahead, perhaps Earth could still represent a new
beginning after all.
   And if so, he could also look ahead to a new, unexpected challenge
in his own life.  Coming to terms with what Hera had gone through. 
Intellectually, he knew that what his daughter had said was correct. 
Her situation was no different than what Serina had gone through and
the last thing he could do was stigmatize her because of something like
that.  At the same time though, he felt a sense of lingering anger and
disappointment inside because he had tried so hard to instill a sense
of values in both his children that neither would have considered
casting them aside for a brief pursuit of pleasure.  Only because it
was enough to make him wonder if he had been as good a teacher to his
children as he'd thought he was.
   And what did your father say when you told him about us before we
decided to get sealed?  He could already hear what Sheba would say to
him.  And then he'd have to tell her that he'd never found the nerve to
tell his father that he'd broken the codes before he and Sheba had
become sealed.  Only because he didn't want to face the kind of
reaction from Adama that he had given to Hera.
   Lord forgive me, he tilted his eyes up. Please purge these thoughts
from me.  Just let me give my daughter love and support and let me move
on from this.


   On the other side of the shuttle, Taylor, now wearing a spare
Colonial uniform and finding it slightly hard to readjust to wearing so
many clothes for the first time in six months, was looking out the
porthole in rapt fascination as the familiar shape of the moon went by.
   "Still looks the same," he mused, "And down there, all the lunar
landers and the moon bases are probably still intact as well."
   "They say they were up to seven of them by the time the....war
happened," Rollins didn't bother to look from his position, two seats
over.  "We may find more clues about what happened to the rest of the
Earth's population."
   Taylor looked at his fellow astronaut, "Are there really any other
mysteries left to solve?"
   "Do you really think the entire human population was gone just like
that?" Rollins queried, "That's a big planet down there, George.  And I
can't buy the idea that only those in the greater New York area were
able to keep on living.  What about all the survivors in the rest of
the country?  The rest of the world?  The apes don't control that large
an enclave when you stop to think about it."
   "That's a good point," Taylor conceded, "In all the time I was down
there, I never stopped to think about that."
   "Probably doesn't matter though," Rollins sighed, "Unless someone
else has another one of the two Alpha-Omega Bombs.  Then we have to
start worrying."
   "Agreed," Taylor nodded and leaned next to Nova, who was also
staring out the window in fascination.  He could see once again that
wide-eyed expression filled with wonder and fear over seeing something
her animal-like mind had never seen the likes of before.
   "Don't worry Nova," he said tenderly as he squeezed her hand. 
"That's just the moon.  And we're flying through space.  It's perfectly
safe."
   She looked up at him, and once again the soothing tone of his voice
made her relax.  She smiled brightly and then managed to form the word,
"Taylor," again.
   Rollins watched and for the first time found himself reflecting how
lucky Taylor was to have found someone to love and to care for during
his ordeal.  It was enough to make him realize how much he still missed
his own wife, who had died of cancer ten years before the Magellan II
flight.  Work and duty had been the only things that had helped him put
that tragedy behind him.  But now, he realized that in this new
universe, 2000 years removed from the time he'd known, that would
probably not be enough for his psyche no matter what kind of
responsibility the Colonials gave him.  He needed someone who could
provide more than the solace a new job and new sense of duty in this
time would give him.
   He hoped that opportunity would come soon.


   In another part of the spacecraft, Claudius had managed to keep his
expression of amazement more restrained than his fellow apes.  There
was a part of the Ape President's psyche that reveled in that part of
his character that could make him seem more unflappable than anyone
else.  As far as he was concerned that trait had been the key to
letting him become president of the Assembly.  No matter what crisis
came up, there was in the end nothing that he was incapable of coming
to terms with.
   "So, my dear Honorius," he turned to the orangutan who was minister
of Justice.  "Are you impressed?"
   The Justice Minister shook his head in bewilderment.  Six months ago
he had stood before the Tribunal that had condemned Taylor and gloated
again how man was incapable of thought or reason.  Now, this ride in a
machine that was beyond any ape's conception, had shattered all of his
grandiose pretensions.
   "It is incredible," he whispered, "Simply incredible."
   Claudius smiled thinly and turned to the chimpanzee on his left,
"Dr. Milo?"
   The brilliant scientist was looking at the various pieces of
equipment with admiration, "They are impressive.  They appear to
operate on principles of automation and power that I had prepared
several theories on, but it would have taken years at the earliest to
develop anything usable with them."
   "Only to develop the crudest of systems," the president noted,
"Nothing that could ever compete with this."
   "Absolutely not," the scientist nodded.
   Claudius turned to Dr. Zaius, "You hear that, Dr. Zaius?" he said
pointedly, "You have always respected Dr. Milo's ingenuity have you
not?"
   "Of course," the Chief Scientist didn't look at him.
   "Then I hope this is putting to rest any second thoughts you might
be feeling," his tone was grave, "Something you should keep in mind the
next time you have a chat with either Ursus or Sylvan."
   Zaius turned to him and frowned, "I don't know what you mean."
   "Don't toy with me, old friend," the President's voice grew more
grave.  "I had my eye on all three of you during the Assembly meeting
when Commander Apollo spoke to us all, and when our population made
their sentiments known.  The fire was gone from your eyes, and yet I
know you enough to realize that if someone can put forth a practical
and workable solution that will let you act on your greatest desire,
you'll go along with that.  You might lack the fire to conceive of such
an idea, but Ursus and Sylvan are different.  It would not surprise me
if at this very moment, they are taking the time to think of ways to
one day motivate our population to a new war against these humans."
   "Mr. President!" Zaius protested, "I am the most loyal of apes.  My
first concern is always with the best interests of ape society, and
that does not include fomenting open rebellion in the name of a
pointless pursuit."
   "But if it could be done, my dear Zaius?" the president inquired
pointedly, "Then what would you do?"
   "It can't be done, so therefore I do what has to be done," he
retorted, "And that means accept what these....humans have to offer.  I
am not a fool, Mr. President, so do not treat me as such."
   "Agreed," Claudius dryly conceded as he leaned back in his chair,
"You are definitely not a fool, Dr. Zaius."
   "Your attention please," Apollo's voice filled the shuttle, "We will
be landing aboard our ship, the Battlestar Galactica, very shortly now. 
You should soon be able to see her just ahead of us."
   Two centons later, a number of startled gasps went up from the
numerous apes in the shuttle as the great battlestar came into view. 
Even Rollins and Taylor, who had not seen the battlestar before, were
slack-jawed by the sight of a ship that to their eyes seemed to stretch
out to infinity.
   It was a very quiet atmosphere when the shuttle landed.


   A centar later, Apollo had brought his gavel down to commence the
emergency session of the Council of Twelve.  The chamber was overflowed
to capacity, owing to the number of special guests taking part in the
proceedings.
   "The Council of Twelve is now in session," Apollo's tone was the
most solemn and formal that anyone could ever recall.  "The Chair
wishes to take note of the special guests representing the Ape
Government who are here.  President Claudius, Minister of Justice
Honorius, Dr. Milo, Dr. Zaius, Dr. Cornelius and Dr. Zira."
   Only half of the Council members let out some polite, restrained
applause.  A conspicuous exception was young Sire Kort, whom Apollo
knew had been a protege of sorts to Sire Antipas.  He sensed right away
that Kort was going to be his biggest obstacle.
   "And also, to the travelers from Earth's past.  Colonel George
Taylor and Colonel Philip Rollins."
   Slightly more applause as Taylor and Rollins half rose from their
seats and bowed in acknowledgment.
   "My fellow members," Apollo began, "It is with regret that I must
report to you the tragic death of our brother member, Sire Antipas.  I
am aware that his senseless death would ordinarily be cause for us to
feel anger and the desire for revenge.  However, I must ask all of you
to put such feelings aside for the good of the Colonial people."
   "Excuse me, Mr. President," Kort decided not to observe any niceties
as he raised his hand--  
   "Just a centon," Apollo cut him off, "Out of deference to President
Claudius, and to avoid confusion, the chair waves his customary
provision that he be addressed only by title during these proceedings."
   Kort frowned slightly as he looked over at the ape contingent for a
brief instant, finding it hard to believe that such deference was being
given to them.  "Very well, Apollo," he decided that if the Council
President was going to be so informal, he'd even dispense with the
'Commander.'  "Am I to understand correctly then, that the senseless
murder of our colleague is to be regarded as a triviality, to be swept
away like old spacedust?  Forgive me, but I find that attitude
appalling to say the least.  We have seen firsthand that thisC" he
looked back at the ape contingent and wrinkled his nose in disgust,
"This species is capable of committing senseless murder at any
opportunityC"
   "I would like to address that matter," Claudius abruptly rose from
his chair, "Because I think it is a point that ought to be dealt with
in the interests of moving ahead."
   The eleven Council members all had their eyes trained on the ape
president.
   "Very well, Mr. President," Apollo politely motioned, "You may
proceed."
   "Thank you, Commander Apollo," Claudius bowed his head slightly,
"The ape who shot down your Council member shall be punished according
to Ape Law.  It is my belief that the individual in question, a
Professor Sylvan, might very well attempt to promote further
disruptions in human-ape relations should the opportunity present
itself, and once these proceedings here are concluded and I have
returned to Ape City, I will waste no time eliminating the threat he
and those who think like him pose to both our races." he then looked
around the Council table at each of them, "I give you my solemn word of
honor that it shall be done."
   Behind him, Minister Honorius had risen as well, "As Minister of
Justice, I too can offer that same pledge that what President Claudius
pledges to you, shall be carried out.  Professor Sylvan will be
arrested and stand trial for his actions."
   To one side, Cornelius and Zira were both amazed by the display of
leadership from the two members of the Ruling Class.  Zira more so than
her husband.  She had always been convinced that the orangutans of the
Ruling Class were passive figures at best who never had the courage to
act on what was right, as opposed to what was expedient.
   But then again, the Ape psychologist mused, all of these decisions
could easily be explained from an expedient context.
   "Thank you Mr. President.  Minister Honorius," Apollo nodded with
satisfaction and then looked back at Sire Kort, "Do you wish to resume
your statement, Sire Kort?"
   The young councilor was still surprised by the turn of events.  His
mouth hung open in disbelief for several microns before he shook his
head and then said, "No, I ah...I have nothing further to comment on
that matter." his words were those of someone who had just had all the
fire sucked out of him completely.
   "I'm glad to hear that," Apollo said as he looked around at each
member, "Because we are at a phase, my brothers, where the only option
our people have when it comes to settling on Earth, is to learn how to
live with those who already inhabit the planet, and who have already
developed a thriving civilization of their own.  Naturally, throughout
our twenty-five yahren journey across the stars, we had hoped that it
would be with a thriving human civilization, representing the
descendants of the Thirteenth Tribe.  That however, is not the reality
that we must deal with.  The reality is that we call a siminoid
culture, but which is properly known as an ape culture, has been able
to pick up the pieces of what..." he swallowed uneasily, as he realized
how painful this was to say, "Of what the descendants of the Thirteenth
Tribe regrettably destroyed, two thousand yahrens ago."
   He noticed how several other Council members had that same saddened
expression.  Apollo could scarcely blame them.  No one had been brought
up to believe that the human race could be capable of destroying their
own civilization not as the result of an outside attack from an enemy
like the Cylons, but as a result of fighting each other.
   "But I believe that we can learn to live together, free of
recrimination and bitterness over the events of the distant past, and
provide a hopeful future for our people." Apollo went on.  "That we, a
viable human culture can co-exist with a viable ape culture on Earth
and one day build a relationship based on tolerance, cooperation and,
even friendship."
   "Commander Apollo," Sire Anton rose from his chair, his ancient
frame seemingly withered, "I respect your noble intentions, and yet I
somehow find myself struck by the thought that while we must concede
that the siminoid culture led by our esteemed guests here has emerged
as the dominant one on Earth, would it not be in our better interest to
merely cede Earth to them and continue our search for a new home,
elsewhere?"
   Apollo's eyes widened.  This was something he hadn't expected to
hear at all.
   "Yes," Sire Kort suddenly jumped in.  "I think that's a fair point,
Apollo.  Why bother dealing with the dangerous ramifications of
co-existence?  Since Earth is no longer the lost thirteenth tribe
waiting to meet us, is there any relevant purpose to settling our
population specifically on that planet?"
   "Sire Kort," Tinia spoke up, "We have an obligation to carry out our
settlement on Earth----"
   "Do we?" Anton interrupted mildly, "My brothers, I have always been
proud to consider myself one who believed fervently in Commander
Adama's vision of seeking out Earth, and no other planet as our
ultimate goal.  But I don't see why our population must be saddled with
the burden of having to share a planet with another race, which may
conceivably lead to tensions in the future, in spite of the good words
of their representatives which I am prepared to concede are made in
good faith," he glanced hastily at the ape delegation.  "But I do not
know if the strain of prejudice that exists in our two respective races
toward each other is something that can ever be fully eradicated. 
Perhaps it would be in our best interest to let the apes have the
entire planet, and let the humans go elsewhere."
   "And what of the other humans still on Earth, Anton?" Tinia inquired
sharply.  "We have a responsibility to them.  To make the descendants
of the Thirteenth Tribe a viable culture again."
   "That's another thing I'm skeptical about," Anton said, "That in
addition to the burden of living alongside another race, we must also
suffer the burden of caring for a population that from all descriptions
seems incapable of ever being reeducated to an intelligent level
again."
   Suddenly, Taylor bolted to his feet.  "That's not true, sir. 
Absolutely not true!"
   The Council members all trained their eyes on him.
   Apollo motioned politely to him, "You may proceed, Colonel Taylor."
   "Thank you," Taylor took a breath, "Look, I don't presume to
understand your society completely.  But I can speak with some
authority that the primitives of Earth can be reeducated.  I know that,
because one of them is my wife, and all by myself I was able to teach
her to talk.  Only a few words, I grant you, but it can be done.  And
with people like you who have methods far more advanced and
sophisticated than anything that was possessed in my time, the process
should yield even quicker results."
   "Colonel Taylor is right," Rollins stood alongside him, "And I'd
like to add this.  He and I represent the last two survivors of the
Earth that once was.  The Earth that had produced a thriving human
civilization.  We both recognize that our duty is to help what was our
civilization get back on its feet.  And if you truly are our brothers
of man, linked to us by a common origin, then by God it's your duty
too!"
   "Colonel Taylor, Colonel Rollins, I am not without sympathy to the
plight of humanity on Earth," Anton said disarmingly, "But I think my
brothers on the Council need not be reminded of how Earth is not the
only planet of humans that has crossed our path before.  All throughout
the early phases of our journey from the Colonies we encountered
outposts of humanity that had emigrated yahrens before from our home
planets.  And we all remember the planet Terra and her civilization do
we not?  Was that not a thriving human culture more advanced than even
Earth was at her peak?  And yet that played no consideration at all in
our decision making."
   "Sire Anton, my respect for you is boundless, but I cannot believe
that you of all people would think that the more proper course of
action is to senselessly abandon our brothers on Earth who need our
help!" Tinia interjected sharply again. 
   Before anyone else could respond, the sound of an alert klaxon
filled the room.
   "I'm afraid the meeting must be suspended at this time.  We shall
reconvene when this situation is ended."  Apollo hastily rapped his
gavel and took no more than five microns to leave the chamber.


   When he arrived on the bridge, Sheba didn't bother concealing her
relief that Apollo would be here this time to take charge of matters. 
   "What's the situation?" the commander inquired.
   "The baseships have narrowed the distance between us and them."
Sheba motioned to the scanners that showed the three circular objects
indicating the baseships moving slowly toward them.
   "What about their fighters?"
   The executive officer shook her head, "That's the scary thing about
it.  Not one of them has launched a single fighter.   They haven't even
fired any of their own laser turrets at our fighter patrols even though
at one point, some of our Vipers got close enough to reach out and
touch them."
   Apollo stared grimly at the monitor, "They're playing a
psychological game of the worst kind.  Intimidate us into submission
just by constantly being there."
   "And so far, it's succeeding in some areas of the Fleet," Sheba
added pointedly, "A lot of civilian ships are reporting signs of panic. 
People are asking why no action is being taken, and why we're all just
sitting here and not trying to escape this region of space."
   The commander grimaced, "And unfortunately, they can't be told the
reason why.   We can't leave this area because we're trying to figure
out what to do with Earth, which they don't realize we've discovered,
and we're also waiting for the arrival of the one thing that might be
able to get the Cylons off our backs.   Broadcasting those explanations
though would amount to total suicide."  He turned back to his wife,
"Any word on Boomer's shuttle with the Alpha-Omega Bomb?"
   "Not yet," the executive officer shook her head.  "No indication of
any ship leaving Earth at this time."
   "Frack," Apollo muttered as he lightly hit the side of his chair,
"Until he gets back, we can't do anything.   We just have to sit and
wait and hope they don't make their move yet, even if that means seeing
more people in this Fleet start to crack emotionally."
   "Just so long as it's no one aboard this ship," Sheba added.
   Apollo looked up at Sheba and smiled without mirth, "If this gambit
with the bomb doesn't work, I'm not even sure I'm going to be able to
guarantee my own sanity when all is said and done.   The blunt truth
we're looking at Sheba is that we're staring at the one fight we've
been trying to avoid for twenty-five yahrens.  And we have just one
opportunity to win that fight without losing all of our people in the
process."
   Sheba chuckled lightly, "The Apollo I fell in love with, was a
stubborn egotist who was always so sure that he alone could handle any
possible challenge, no matter how bad the odds.  You just came away
from another one on Earth a few centars ago with the Apes, so that
means you've still got a perfect record and that means that you alone,
will find the way again no matter what happens next."
   He smiled thinly and lightly squeezed her hand, "The Apollo you fell
in love with is tired, and wants to rest on his laurels.  And so help
me God Sheba, if we come through this, that's what I intend to do."
   "Not you," she shook her head, "Retirement wouldn't suit you anymore
than it would my father, or yours for that matter."
   "I'm going to get a chance to prove you wrong on that, Sheba," he
squeezed her hand again as he kept his gaze on the monitor, which
showed the three Cylon baseships moving in their slow, ominous path
towards the Colonial Fleet.
   "Commander," Omega called over, "We now have an indication that the
shuttle has left Earth.  Should be in safe communications range in five
centons."
   "Thank the Lords," Apollo felt the first sense of relief in a long
while go through his body as he got up and went over to the navigation
board.  "Now, we need to start developing a battle plan to use that
sucker."
   "Decided where it should be?" Sheba asked as she stayed alongside
him.
   Apollo looked at the board which illuminated the closest star
systems to Earth.   In one direction, the star called Alpha Centauri,
in another Proxima Centauri, and in a third, Sirius.  "I suppose any
planet in one these three systems will do, since utilizing one in this
solar system carries too much potential risk to Earth, as Colonel
Taylor pointed out."
   "Suppose the only planets you can utilize are inhabited," Sheba said
pensively, "Then what?"
   Her husband sighed, "Then the felgercarb will be up to our necks if
we have to face that dilemma.  But one or another, this bomb has to be
used because it is our last hope, and Earth's." 

                    Chapter Eighteen

   Aboard the shuttle that was carrying the Alpha-Omega Bomb for its
journey back to the Galactica, there was an aura of grim silence among
the six people gathered inside.  As he gingerly guided the controls
that put the shuttle on its heading toward the battlestar, Starbuck
couldn't help but turn around and wonder if any of them would get over
the horror of what they'd been forced to go through only a centar ago.
   The long centars of standing guard with Boomer and Ares, waiting for
the arrival of the support team that would help load the bomb onto a
shuttle for transport had taken their toll in the form of several
venomous arguments between Starbuck and Ares.  The Colonial Security
Guard, still consumed with bitterness over the death of his protege
Sergeant Bernabe, had unleashed a profane tirade about the new policy
of cooperation with the Apes, and Starbuck, who had felt the same way
when the mission had begun, now found himself in the position of
defending Apollo and the policy.  At one point, the two warriors seemed
on the verge of coming to blows before Boomer had managed to step
between them, bad arm notwithstanding, and keep them apart with some
stern words of reproach.
   After that, there was cold silence for a centar when the support
team of ten additional warriors finally arrived.   They had brought
special anti-gravity units that when attached to the missile would
enable them to move the Alpha-Omega Bomb out of St. Patrick's Cathedral
as though it weighed nothing.  All they had to do was work together to
lower the missile from its mounting above the altar into a vertical
position, attach the units and then move it out to the shuttle waiting
several miles away in the northern most part of Manhattan, which was
not buried under the rock formations.
   The first part had gone smoothly.  They had first moved the missile
out of the Cathedral and onto Fifth Avenue, where they began to walk to
the north.  Past the stagnated foliage that had been Central Park. 
Past the ruins of Lincoln Center and other New York landmarks.  Past
the horrific sight of rows of mutant bodies that had been gunned down
by the Ape army the day before; their twisted faces the most ghastly
sight Starbuck could ever recall seeing.  Soon, they could see ahead
the distant light where the rock formation ceiling ended and they would
be out in the open.  Then it would be mere centons before they'd be on
the shuttle and away.  For Ares, it couldn't come any sooner after the
hell he'd been forced to endure since arriving on Earth in what seemed
an eternity ago to him.
   And then, just several hundred yards short of reaching the open, the
unexpected had happened.   From behind the ruins of several buildings
they passed, six white-garbed figures suddenly emerged, their faces
twisted in the horrible shapes that had been deformed by the effects of
centuries of radiation poisoning.
   Ares was the first to realize what it meant.   Somehow, there had
been mutants who had fled with the mob that had stormed out of St.
Patrick's Cathedral and managed to escape the destructive firepower of
the Ape army.   Now, they stood with their hate-filled expressions as
they saw the ones they saw as their enemy, taking with them the object
that had been their Deity.
   Since Ares had been the only one of the group of twelve who had
encountered the mutants before, he knew right away what they intended
to do.   He pulled out his laser pistol and instantly shot the first
two mutants in the line, without stopping to explain why.   The rest of
his fellow Colonials, including Starbuck and Boomer, were all
dumbfounded by his seemingly impulsive actions and seemed ready to
shout in protest.
   But before any of them could do so, Ares saw to his horror that he
was too late.   The remaining mutants had enough time to exercise their
powers of mind control, determined to achieve the goal of getting the
Colonials to kill each other, so they might be able to save their god. 
 Before Ares could shout out the order to kill them all that he knew he
should have done instinctively, several of the armed Colonials had gone
into blank trances and were now aiming their laser pistols at each
other.
   For the next three centons, there was total chaos as the Colonials
began firing at each other.   Boomer, who was unarmed, and not
subjected to the mutants mind control, quickly scrambled behind the
rusted remains of an automobile and could only watch in horror at what
was happening.   He saw six of the nine members of the support team go
down amidst the laser fire.  And then, the remaining three seemed to
direct their attention toward Ares, who was the only one who knew how
to block the mutants power out.  
   As Boomer surveyed the scene, powerless to offer help, his eyes
darted around the street trying to see what had happened to Starbuck.  
But there was no sign of the grizzled warrior.
   Another laser blast broke the ex-warrior's concentration.  He looked
to his right, just in time to see Ares scramble behind the car and take
a place next to him.
   "What in Hades...?" Boomer started but got no further as the
Security Guard held up an arm indicating silence.   Ares managed to
stick his laser pistol out and get one shot off at the four remaining
mutants, felling one of them.
   "Three left," he muttered as he ducked back down just in time to
avoid another shot from one of the catatonic members of the support
team. "We've got to kill the rest of those mutants before their mind
power makes the rest of the support team kill us."
   "I can't help you," Boomer shook his head sadly, "I don't have a
pistol, and on top of that, with one bum arm I can't do much of
anything in a fight."
   "Where in Hades is Starbuck?" Ares felt like exploding in fury.  "If
they've got him...."
   Boomer felt himself trembling.  Already, the bulk of his support
team was dead and he knew that was something that would be hard to
recover from seeing unfold before his eyes.   If his closest friend met
the same kind of inglorious fate, he was sure that would be worse.
   They could hear the footsteps of the three remaining support team
members drawing closer.   Outnumbered three to one in terms of
weaponry, they already knew that their chances were not good.
   Dear God, Boomer thought.   If we fail and they get the Bomb back,
then our people have no hope at all.
   Just then, another blast of laser fire erupted.  From the corner of
his eye, Ares could see that the streaks had gone in the direction of
the three remaining mutants.
   "Okay, it's safe now," they heard a familiar, but grim sounding
voice say.  When Boomer and Ares got to their feet and emerged from
behind the car, they could see the surviving support team members
shaking their heads as though coming out of a dazed state.  On the
other side of the street, Starbuck had emerged from the remains of a
bookstore doorway.   To one side, the rest of the mutants lay
motionless across the street.
   "Damn," Boomer sighed as he also took note of the bodies of six of
the support team warriors lying dead as well.  "Damn, damn."  He could
think of nothing else to say.
   "Thanks Starbuck," Ares said with relief, "If you hadn't gotten out
of sight, they'd have noticed you too and...." he left the thought
unfinished.
   "I know," the grizzled warrior nodded and moved up to them.  "Okay,
we'd....better get back to work and get this bomb out of here fast in
case there are more of those maniacs still lurking about."
   The six survivors said nothing more as they resumed the
responsibility of carrying the Alpha-Omega Bomb out to the waiting
shuttle.  Finally, it was inside and the shuttle was away on it's
journey back to the Galactica.
   What a fracking mess this has been, Starbuck could think of no other
way to put the events of the last two days in perspective.  The
euphoria of finding Earth, the degrading experience of being captured
by the apes, the escape, the anger over Apollo's changed policy, the
sudden death of Sire Antipas, then the relief at reaching a settlement
with the apes, the journey to the Forbidden Zone and the horror of
Brent's suicide and culminating with the death of six Colonials at the
indirect hands of other Colonials.   Now, they were on their way home
bearing a terrible weapon that had become the last hope for humanity in
the struggle against the Cylons.
   Cassie, he wearily thought to himself as he prepared to signal the
Galactica, maybe you and I should have another talk when this is all
over.


   When the shuttle landed on the Galactica, a new team of support
personnel were already waiting to unload the missile and take it down
for loading into the Galactica's empty missile bank.  Apollo was also
waiting, along with Sheba, Taylor, Rollins and the entire Ape
delegation.
   "How long do you think it'll take for it to be loaded?" Apollo asked
Boomer.
   "At least a few centars to get it secure and then another centar to
make sure all the components are securely wired to the main missile
fire control from the Bridge."  The Chief Scientist said, still drained
from the whole ordeal.
   "I need you to oversee the operation.   The micron it's all in
place, let me know because that's when the battle plan kicks in."
   "Yes sir," Boomer nodded and moved off to follow the technicians
carrying the missile.
   "Your battle plan's all set then, Commander?" Taylor inquired with a
faintly caustic air.
   "It is," Apollo nodded.  "All that remains is a planetary target in
any one of three nearby star systems.  Our viper patrols are checking
that out now and should have all data back to us by the time the bomb
is in place."
   "Well, I'm glad you've seen the wisdom of avoiding a planet in this
solar system, Commander," Taylor said.  "I hope for your sake it proves
successful."
   "Thank you," Apollo acknowledged, "I would like to say to all of
you, how much I've appreciated your cooperation.  But right now,
there's nothing more any of you can do here, so I'm prepared to let all
of you return to Earth for now.  Colonel Taylor, I'll see to it that
your wife and child be brought down here from our Life Station so they
can go back with you."
   "Commander," Rollins stepped forward, "Speaking for myself, I think
I'd like to see this out.   I do come from a military background and
might be able to----"
   "Colonel Rollins," Apollo cut him off, "I don't wish to slight your
abilities, but we're about to take part in something that I think
defies anything you've ever comprehended before.   There's no point in
having you needlessly risk your life when it isn't necessary."
   "Commander Apollo, at this point it doesn't matter to me whether I
stay or not, since you've spent the last few hours telling your Council
and us, that if you fail to win this battle then Earth's future is at
risk too."
   "My decision is final, Colonel." Apollo held his ground. "You're to
return to Earth with Colonel Taylor and the Ape Delegation."
   "No," Rollins held up a hand, "I need to do something else then just
sit around and wait on Earth.  In fact," he looked over at Cornelius,
"Dr. Cornelius and I were discussing the possibility of one day taking
part in an archeological survey of the old bases on Earth's moon that
date back to my time.   I suggest that you give us some non-essential
personnel and let us do that."
   Apollo pondered that for a few seconds and then nodded, "We had
planned on making a full survey of those bases eventually, and I
suppose there's no harm in doing that now.   Certainly your presence
would be most helpful."  He glanced at Cornelius, "Are you willing, Dr.
Cornelius?"
   "Absolutely," the chimpanzee nodded, "My own expertise is in
archeology and history.   I am certain that whatever we might find
would equally be of interest to the ape population as it is to you."
   "Very well.  Colonel Taylor do you wish to accompany this team as
well?"
   "No," Taylor said curtly, "I think I've seen enough mementos from my
own time these last six months to satisfy my curiosity.  I will instead
take you up on your kind offer and wait things out on Earth with my
family."
   "Does that go for the rest of you?" Apollo turned to the rest of the
apes.
   "It would be the most prudent thing to do," Claudius stepped
forward.  "Our return will give us the opportunity to dispose of the
rebel faction that I fear Professor Sylvan and General Ursus are
interested in organizing one day."
   "Sound thinking," Sheba said, "Do you require any support teams to
assist you?"
   "I would think it wise if you didn't, Colonel," the Ape president
said politely, "This is a matter that is best decided by Apes and by
Ape Law.  As much as I am anxious to see to it that our tribes work
together in a spirit of mutual cooperation, there are some areas where
close cooperation might prove to be unwise in light of the underlying
prejudices that still exist among many between ape and human."
   "I respect your wishes on that, Mr. President," Apollo said and
extended his hand.  "It has been an honor meeting you, and I look
forward to talking to you again after our present situation with the
Cylons is ended."
   Claudius returned it, "God be with you," he said simply.
   Apollo turned to Sheba, "Tell Cassiopeia to have Taylor's wife and
child sent down here for transport.   Also have Ensign Hera report to
my quarters."
   The executive officer nodded and departed.  Apollo left mere seconds
later, taking an alternate route that would lead to his quarters.
   "You'd better go, Zira," Cornelius said gently to his wife.
   "No," the psychologist shook her head, "I'm going with you and
Colonel Rollins."
   "I don't think that's a good idea," he leaned closer and dropped his
voice to a confidential level, "For Taylor's sake, I think you should
go with him and Nova and stay with them."
   She glanced over at Taylor, who was following Sheba's path to the
Life Station.
   "Even though our esteemed President is saying all the right things,"
Cornelius went on, "I think it might do Taylor a lot of good to have
someone he can trust completely while he's on Earth waiting things out
in Ape City."
   The female chimpanzee nodded and glanced uneasily at Dr. Zaius who
had been uncharacteristically silent throughout most of his stay aboard
the battlestar.  "I see what you mean.  Very well, I'll go.  You just
take care of yourself."
   "I shall," he gave his wife a quick kiss and then moved off to join
Rollins.


   Since they'd been brought on board the Galactica, Nova and her baby
had spent the entire time in the Life Station under Cassiopeia's
watchful eye.  The Chief Medical Officer had spent the entire time
giving Nova a careful physical examination, all the while being mindful
enough to be gentle and to not do anything that would frighten the
primitive female.   As things turned out, Nova seemed to trust her
completely.   Some quick reassuring words from Taylor before he had
left to attend the Council meeting had evidently put her in the right
frame of mind to trust Cassiopeia.
   As Cassiopeia conducted her tests and made her observations, Hera
soon arrived, seemingly determined to learn everything about the
characteristics of primitive humans as much as she could, only because
she had a vested interest in knowing all the information she could
learn.
   "Well?" the blonde ensign had her arms folded as she watched
Cassiopeia analyze some of the data she'd gathered.
   "If Nova is typical of the primitives, then from a physical
standpoint they're among the finest examples of the human species ever
known," she said, "What they've lacked in mental capacity all this time
is more than compensated in terms of physical fitness, agility.   In
those categories, it's almost flawless by our standards."
   "Are there any physical incompatibilities?" Hera felt herself
tensing.
   "Not that I can see," Cassiopeia said, "There are some areas that I
might not know for certain without sectars or even yahrens of up-close
study, especially when it comes to any diseases that they might be more
susceptible to than we are, but I see no indications that humanity on
Earth, be it those from the intelligent past or the primitive present
is any different from the way we are." she paused, "So in other words,
Hera, stop worrying.  The chances of your baby being as normal as any
other baby are probably an infinitesimal fraction short of 100%."
   The blonde ensign sat down and seemed to reflect, "Then I guess if
we're successful and we're able to settle on Earth, interbreeding in
general should become the norm for our people."
   "I have a feeling it's going to be encouraged," Cassiopeia admitted,
"Even though Nova herself is living proof of the ability to reeducate
the primitive strain, the results will be a lot quicker if the genetic
pool of intelligent humans is mixed with that of the primitive humans
on a wide level."
   Hera let out an ironic chuckle, "I can think of a lot of people in
this Fleet who after all these yahrens of being subjected to the
population control measures are going to gladly volunteer to do their
part if it comes to that."
   "Could be," the Chief Medical Officer laughed too.  "Could be."  She
then noticed how Hera seemed to be reflecting as though her mind was a
long ways away.  "Is something else bothering you?"
   "What?" she seemed distracted, "What did you say?"
   Before she could repeat herself, Cassiopeia decided not to raise the
subject again, "Nothing." she waved her hand, "Nothing."
   At that moment, Sheba entered the Life Station, followed a few
microns later by Taylor.   Nova instinctively rose from the examination
table she'd been lying on and came up to him with a wide smile.  He
tenderly held her and stroked her long mane of hair, "It's okay, Nova. 
I'm here to take you and Eve home."
   "Colonel Taylor is returning to Earth," Sheba explained to
Cassiopeia.  "You'd best accompany them down to the Landing Bay and
make sure they're safely aboard the shuttle."
   "Of course," Cassiopeia nodded and gently picked up baby Eve who'd
been placed in a special infant chamber and already found to be in
perfect health.  She handed the baby girl to Nova who again
demonstrated her instinctive motherhood by keeping the wrapped infant
close to her breast.
   Nova looked up at her smiling husband and then again formed the word
she knew better than any other, "Tay-lor?"
   "Yes," he nodded, "We're going home."
   They departed, with Cassiopeia following them out.  Leaving Hera and
Sheba alone in the Life Station.
   "By the way," the executive officer said in a business-like tone,
"The Commander wishes to see you in his quarters."
   Her daughter chuckled, "For official reasons, I assume, or else you
would have said, 'your father wants to see you.'"
   "True," she admitted, "From what he told me, you and he had a talk
about....things."
   "We did," Hera sighed and got to her feet.  "He seemed to have a bit
of trouble adjusting to the news, but I think he'll learn to accept
it."
   He'd better, Sheba thought to herself.   If there was one thing she
would never stand for, it would be seeing Hera stigmatized as a result
of what had happened to her.
   "Let's go," the executive officer said gently as they moved out.  As
they walked down the corridors, Sheba sensed that her daughter was
deeply lost in thought about something but she decided that now was not
the time to have any deep personal discussions.   It would have to
wait.
   When they arrived, they saw Apollo behind his desk with Rollins and
Cornelius seated in front.
   "Thank you for coming, Ensign," Apollo didn't bother getting up, "I
was just explaining to Dr. Cornelius and Colonel Rollins that you were
by far the best warrior available to command their expedition to
explore the remains of Earth bases on their moon that date back to the
Colonel's time."
   His daughter sat down next to the American astronaut, "What
specifically would we be looking for?"
   "I'm not really sure," Apollo mused, "Yet somehow I have the feeling
that we need to explore them to learn some answers that might have a
bearing on our future policy."
   "I think there have to be more clues about how the war started and
what happened to the rest of humanity after the destruction." Rollins
said, "So far, the enclave surrounding Ape City accounts for a tiny
fraction of the planet.  Given the amount of time it would take to try
and pinpoint where other pockets of life exist, be they human or ape,
the moon bases might at least offer us some clues as to where we can
start, since they had to have kept operating for some time after the
initial destruction took place. There should be records of some kind
that we can tap into.  Records that would be a lot easier for me to
comprehend and explain than those bizarre testimonies of the mutants
were."
   "And more importantly," Apollo said, "The moon bases might also shed
some light on where the two remaining Alpha-Omega Bombs are located,
and if any of the other great nations developed their own before the
war started.   If any of them still exist, we need to round them up and
get them off the planet so they can never pose a threat to Earth
again."
   "Very well," Hera said, "You want me to command this team, which I'm
assuming will also consist of a med-tech and some technicians trained
in excavation?"
   "Yes," her father nodded, "We want the most thorough study possible
of each facility.  We've had them charted out based on earlier viper
scans, and Colonel Rollins says that he personally visited two of them
when they were operational so his help should prove invaluable."
   "When do we leave?"
   "Immediately.  The Galactica is preparing herself for full battle,
and will be leaving the area within the next few centars.  We may in
fact be out of range altogether for a while.  At the very least, we
will not return until things are settled with the Cylon presence."
   Hera felt herself stiffen as a feeling of frustration went through
her.  The Fleet was preparing for the battle she had been training
herself to take part in ever since she was a child and first expressed
the desire to be a warrior.  And she was going to miss it because of
what she had gotten herself into.
   Not for the first time, she found her thoughts going back to the
occasion that had led to her predicament.   Initially, she felt herself
hating the handsome blue-eyed primitive for just having been there.  
Then, she'd realized that was unjust and knew that ultimately the
responsibility rested with her for responding to the advances that to
his primitive mind were simply a routine function of the lifestyle that
humans on Earth had been condemned to for centuries.
   Now, even though she had come to terms with her responsibility for
what had happened, she still wasn't completely certain in her heart if
what had happened to her constituted something she should regard as a
wonderful gift or a punishment from the Almighty for breaking the
codes.   The warrior's instinct told her it was a punishment, denying
her the chance to do what she had wanted to do all her life, to leave
her mark as a warrior just as her father, her mother and her
grandfathers had done.   But another side of her realized that it could
also be seen as a wonderful gift, to receive the joy of a healthy
child, and to also take the first step in showing to the rest of her
people that their brethren on Earth were not beyond all hope if healthy
children could arise from interbreeding.
   What troubled her mind most though, was the prospect of seeing the
blue-eyed primitive again one day, which she knew was not entirely out
of the realm of possibility, though it seemed improbable given the
numbers of primitives that existed in the confines near Ape City.   If
that did happen though, would he remember their experience?   And what
would she think and feel, if she would have to look upon him not as
pleasant momentary diversion that she had used and cast aside, but
rather as the father of her child?   Someone she would always be
permanently connected to?
   Somehow, Hera had the uneasy feeling in her heart that the Fates
would see to it that she have to confront that question someday.  When
or how, she had no idea, but the sight of Nova being examined in the
Life Station was enough to tell her that she had to prepare for that
likelihood.
   "Very well, Commander," her mind came back to the present as she
rose from her chair, "We'll leave immediately and see to it that our
shuttle has adequate provisions for a long-term search."
   "Good," Apollo motioned to Rollins and Cornelius, "Colonel Rollins,
Dr. Cornelius, please go down to the landing bay and stand by.  Ensign
Hera and the support team will join you shortly."
   As soon as the astronaut and the chimpanzee had left, Apollo seemed
to let down his guard, "Hera," his voice was more parental now,
"There's something else I wanted to tell you.   In case...." he took an
uneasy breath, "In case the battle goes wrong, and...."
   His daughter remained stoic, while Sheba uneasily twisted her
fingers.
   "And we don't survive," he went on, "Then the first thing you have
to do is high-tail it to Earth.  If we're destroyed then the Cylons may
or may not stumble on to Earth, but if they do then you and anyone else
who makes it there just has to lose yourself amongst all the
primitives."
   "Well, I've certainly got experience at that," Hera allowed herself
some grim humor, "But that probably wouldn't amount to much since the
Apes would likely throw their lots in with the Cylons to save
themselves if it ever came to that, and they'd hunt us all down just
the same."
   "Maybe," Apollo conceded as he avoided looking at her, "But it's the
only option you have if it comes to that.  There has to be...some hope
for humanity even if the worst scenario happens with us."
   Hera nodded, "I understand," she got to her feet, "Is there anything
else?"
   Apollo managed to look at her, "No," he shook his head, his voice
faint.  "Just....say all the prayers you can to the Lord that we come
through this."
   Without saying anything, his daughter came up to him and gently
kissed him on the cheek.  She then went over to Sheba and shared a
quick embrace with her mother.
   "Tell Boxey to shoot a few extra Cylons for me," Hera added.
   "I will," Sheba managed to smile.
   When Hera was gone, Sheba looked back at her husband who for the
first time, seemed to show the effects of middle-age like never before. 
Clearly, the events of the past few days and all that still lay ahead
were taking a heavy toll on him. 
   Ordinarily, Sheba always regarded a display of tenderness and
affection as the easiest cure for whenever Apollo showed signs of
tension and anxiety.  But on this day, she knew there was no time for
any of that.
   "We'd better get back to the Bridge and see if one of our patrols
has found a planet to pick out."
   He slowly got to his feet and straightened his tunic.  "Let's get
started."


   When they arrived, they noticed right away that Omega's face seemed
more lined with tension than usual.
   "It's not good, Commander," the senior bridge officer said, "At
least five ships report near riots breaking out because when the people
look out the windows, they can practically see the Cylon baseships off
in the distance and they're wondering why we're not doing anything to
get out of the area."
   "Tell the Fleet the basestars will be drawn out within a few
centars," Apollo said, "Any report from our viper patrol groups
checking out those three star systems?"
   "They won't be able to offer telemetry on that for at least a
centar, Commander," Omega hesitated slightly, "And I have to confess
sir, a lot of the pilots sent out on those patrol sweeps of the three
star systems were very reluctant to carry out the order, since it meant
standing down from their monitoring of the baseships."
   "Did you tell them that one squadron is remaining at the rear to
handle that?"  Apollo folded his arms and his voice grew suddenly cold.
   "Yes sirB"
   "Tell that to them again if any more ask.  And if so much as one
viper deviates from their assignment, the whole squadron gets put on
report for a sectan."
   "Yes sir," Omega nodded, wondering when the last time he'd seen
Apollo this way was.
   "Commander," another bridge officer spoke up, "Earth shuttle and
Moon expedition shuttle now leaving."
   The commander nodded in acknowledgment and went back to his command
position on the upper level, with Sheba hanging right behind him.


   "We are in final position, Baltar," Lucifer said as he saw the human
traitor enter the command center.  "Any closer, and we would be near
enough to actually open fire upon the Fleet."
   Baltar made his way over to the main navigation board where the IL
Cylon stood. 
   "Good," he noted with satisfaction, "By now, their patrols should be
constantly watching us, and waiting to see when we make our first
strike.  And as they watch, their nerve keeps getting worn down, along
with the rest of the Fleet so that one of two things happens.  They
either launch a premature attack on us that they cannot win, or they
wait so long that they are in no condition to withstand anything we
throw at them.  They'll practically surrender before it goes any
further."
   "Except for one thing," Lucifer noted dryly, "As you can see, some
of their viper patrols are no longer monitoring us."
   Baltar frowned as he consulted the navigation board.  "That's odd. 
At least two, no three patrols are going to different nearby star
systems."
   "A curious development to say the least."
   "Yes," Baltar's brow knotted as he tried to make sense of it. "If it
were happening much later than now, I'd almost think that his pilots
are cracking already and are fleeing."
   "Perhaps you are right."
   "No," Baltar shook his head as he continued to look at the board,
clasping his metallic hands behind his back.  "Whether it's Adama or
Apollo in command, they know how to at least maintain discipline at the
outset.  There's a reason why those vipers are going off to nearby
stars.  Something that has to do with whatever counter-strategy they're
trying to implement."
   "What should our response be then?"
   Baltar didn't answer at first.  He seemed totally lost in
concentration, trying hard to outguess what his adversary was thinking
at that moment.
   Finally, the traitor's eyes opened wide and he straightened himself,
"Whatever reason they are doing this, it leaves us with an exposed
Fleet protected by a reduced viper force.  Let us turn the screws
tighter, my dear Lucifer, and see what happens with a limited attack,
aimed exclusively at the civilian ships of the Fleet."

                    Chapter Nineteen

   As the battlestar faded from view behind them, Hera cast a quick
forlorn glance at the great warship that had been her home all her
life, feeling both the sense of frustration that she could not take
part in the upcoming battle, as well as the trepidation that she might
not see that home, along with the ones she loved the most, again.
   "The Lords be with you all," she whispered to herself.   Then,
knowing that she couldn't let such feelings dominate her mind, she put
them aside and refocused her attention to the job at hand.  Piloting
the shuttle to Earth's moon and heading the exploration team.
   She looked back at Rollins, who was deep in conversation with
Cornelius.  "Colonel, could you come up here please?"
   The American astronaut rose from his seat and settled next to Hera
in the co-pilot's seat.
   "Do you need some help?"
   "I'll need your assistance on where we should land," Hera said, "Do
you know one specific location we should start with?"
   "Yes," Rollins nodded, "I know where to start.  Port Kennedy.  The
first moon base we established."
   "Port Kennedy?" she frowned slightly, "What kind of a name is that?"
   "It was named to honor the President of our country who pushed our
space program forward and led to the first spaceflights we had."
   "I see.   He must have been a remarkable leader."
   Rollins, who had been a lifelong Republican, almost felt the
temptation to go into a litany of why he felt JFK had been an
ineffective leader, but realized quickly that it was totally
irrelevant.
   "I was stationed at Port Kennedy for three months once, so I know
the facility quite well.  Their main computer facilities should have
all the relevant data we need backed up, even though it probably no
longer served as a main facility after the new bases were established."
   "We can always move on to the other bases if we find nothing there." 
Hera said as she gently increased the shuttle's speed.  
   "We should be there in another fifteen centons."
   "Call me as soon as you need my help again," the astronaut said as
he moved back to rejoin Cornelius.


   As one shuttle neared Earth's moon, another shuttle was taking
another path that would lead back to the planet itself.
   Taylor still found himself too ill-at-ease to hang close to Dr.
Zaius and the orangutan members of the Ape Government, whom he regarded
as the symbols of the corrupt society that had caused his initial
imprisonment.  Instead, he kept himself, Nova and Eve seated next to
the only ape aboard the shuttle he knew he could trust.  Zira.
   "With all that's happened, I haven't had a chance to say how glad I
am to see that you and Nova managed to stay alive all this time." the
ape psychologist said.
   "We had some narrow escapes," Taylor admitted and then shifted his
gaze back to the orangutans on the other side of the shuttle, "Zira, do
you think the President is on the level about cracking down on the apes
who won't cooperate?"
   "I think he is," Zira said, keeping her voice low, "But not because
he thinks it's ethically right.  Claudius is the quintessential
realist.  He's doing it because the facts dictate it's the only
possible course of action, and he knows how to live with that.  Dr.
Zaius on the other hand, is the opportunist who only knows how to hitch
his wagon to whatever cause is stronger at the moment.  Whereas
Claudius can accept things as they are, Zaius wouldn't hesitate to
switch sides in the name of his old prejudice if someone can create a
successful plan."
   "And you think that's how it's going to continue, after the
Colonials settle?   A state of coexistence with underlying tensions
that can never go away completely?"
   "I'm afraid so," Zira nodded, "It's a miracle in itself that apes
and humans won't be fighting each other today or tomorrow.  But....I
just don't know if that's going to be true next year or ten years from
now.  If scientists like Dr. Milo become intelligent enough to develop
the same kinds of science the Colonials have, then one day maybe the
apes will decide that we're strong enough to fight the Colonials with
their own kinds of weapons."  She shuddered slightly, "Maybe I carry
too much pessimism because of my own prejudices against the
intellectual capabilities of gorillas and orangutans, Taylor, but I'm
still not convinced that the long-term future for ape-human relations
is going to be anything but bleak."
   "You might be right," Taylor sighed, "You might be right."
   She looked at Taylor thoughtfully, "Do you plan on staying with them
forever, Taylor?"
   "I don't see what else I can do," the one-time astronaut mused as he
kept an arm wrapped about Nova, "I've never been the kind of man who
liked to work within a system that I felt was flawed.  That's why I
left my time in the first place.  But..." he shuddered as the memory of
Brent's invective came back again, "I can't live like that anymore.  If
I want to see a positive future for my people, I have to make myself,
Nova and our children part of the Colonials future.  I can't recreate
humanity in my own image, according to what I always thought were my
perfect standards."
   "You've changed, Taylor," Zira was slightly amazed, "You're not
as....stubborn as you used to be."
   "Maybe that's cause for optimism, Zira," Taylor shrugged, "If I can
change, maybe in the long-run they can change too," he cocked his head
toward the orangutans.  "And then it won't just be a case of pragmatism
and realism dictating the future."


   Rollins's eyes widened in amazement as he saw the unmistakable shape
of the Port Kennedy lunar base grow larger in the window, while Hera
guided the shuttle to a soft landing in the Sea of Tranquility.  
Throughout his treks in New York City, Rollins had let himself grown
accustomed to the site of decayed ruins from the 20th Century as the
only visible reminders of his time he'd ever see.  But unlike the
buildings of Manhattan, the multiple three story structures of the
lunar base looked exactly as they did the last time he'd been there in
May 1975.  The vacuum of space meant that after 2000 years, there had
been no decay of the structures, and therefore no telltale signs like
peeling paint and crumbling edifices.  If he were able to block out the
surroundings of the shuttle, he could almost envision that it was 2000
years ago and that he ought to be radioing for landing clearance.
   Hera's voice brought him back to reality.  "Is there a landing area
where I can set this thing down close enough?"
   "The main landing strip should be one hundred feet to the east of
the Main Complex."  The astronaut pointed.
   Hera checked her scanner, "I think I've pinpointed that location. 
Okay, we'll be on the ground in two centons.  We'll then head into the
next compartment, put on EVA suits and get going."


   "Viper probe in Proxima Centauri system reports no planets with
suitable oxygen content," Omega reported.
   "Damn," Apollo thumped his fist against the railing, "One system no
good, two left.  Let's hope the reports from the Sirius and Alpha
Centauri groups are more promising."
   Sheba was glancing at the main navigation board while her husband
spoke.  Before he was through, she had stiffened visibly.
   "Apollo," she said quietly, "I think we just ran out of time on
that."
   He turned around and saw immediately the tell-tale blips of Cylon
craft headed in the direction of the Main Fleet.
   "Oh frack," he whispered, "They're turning the screws quicker than I
thought they would."
   "We need all our vipers back immediately or else the Cylons will
have two hundred free targets to choose from."
   "You're right," he nodded glumly and moved back to Omega, "All
vipers are to return and engage all incoming Cylon fighters.  Launch
all reserve squadrons and have them assume protective screen around the
Fleet."
   The Senior Bridge Officer quickly nodded and moved off to carry out
the order.
   Apollo went back to his console and picked up the headset lying
across his chair.
   "Boomer?" he asked after he made the necessary adjustment, "What's
the status of the missile?"
   "She's loaded in the tube, but the wiring is going to take another
two centars at least." the Chief Scientist replied.
   "That's not good enough Boomer," Apollo's tone grew grave, "The
Cylons are launching an attack on the Fleet.  The sooner I have that
thing operational the better."
   There was a brief silence from the other end.
   "Commander," he said patiently, "Right now, every man from my unit
that is normally assigned to damage control is working on getting this
thing set up.  If you're planning on engaging the Cylons before I'm
finished, and we take some hits then I think I should only note that a
lot of men you'll need to put the fires out and keep this ship
operating aren't going to be at their stations."
   "Point taken," Apollo didn't bat an eye, "And take note of this
point, Boomer.  Without that thing operational, it won't make one
cubit's worth of a difference if the rest of this ship is operational."
   Without bothering to wait for a reply, Apollo removed the headset
and went back down to Omega's station.
   "Our viper groups are returning," he said, "They'll be able to
engage the incoming Cylon force in fifteen centons."
   "That leaves them with a margin of just one centon or two to get
there before the incoming Cylon forces arrive," Apollo tapped the
railing, "Looks like we finally caught a break there."
   "But with our vipers engaged against the Cylons, then how do we
select a target for using the bomb?"  Sheba asked.  "We can't take the
Galactica all the way out to those other two star systems to check
ourselves."
   Her husband sighed, "Give me a data readout on every planet and
orbiting satellite beyond the asteroid belt in Earth's solar system."
   The executive officer did a quick double take at her husband.
   "What did you say?"
   "I said, I want a data readout on oxygen level content for all
satellites and planets beyond the asteroid belt."
   "You're not serious are you?"
   "I am," he nodded.  "The Cylons are causing our options to dwindle,
and that means we have to see if there's something here we can make use
of."
   "But Apollo, the risk factorC"
   "Is negligible if confined to the outer planets or one of their
moons," he cut her off.  "It's only with the inner planets like the
ones called Mars and Venus that would present problems for Earth.  
Sheba, don't argue with me.   We have to check this out, unless you
want me to divert ten fighters away from defending the Fleet right
now!"
   Sheba knew when it was time to cease arguing.  She quickly turned
away and went back to the console on the lower level of the bridge.


   The Colonial EVA suit seemed less bulky than the ones Rollins
recalled wearing on his first spacewalks in the Gemini program, and
then when he'd first walked on the moon in the mission that had broken
ground for Port Kennedy.   As Hera opened the hatch that would enable
them to exit the shuttle, the one-time astronaut kept flexing his limbs
in total comfort.
   "I feel as though I'm about to suffocate," Cornelius complained.
   Malek, one of the technicians assigned to the mission, carefully
adjusted a knob on the right sleeve of the chimpanzee's EVA suit.
   "There," the veteran technician who'd been part of the Galactica's
damage control team for twenty yahrens said, "That should increase your
oxygen flow.  Is that better?"
   "Much," Cornelius said with relief.  "Thank you."
   When the hatch opened, Hera stepped outside first, followed by
Rollins, Cornelius and the five men from the support team.   The blonde
lieutenant took several careful steps across the powdery lunar surface
toward the building that loomed just one hundred feet ahead.
   "That door leads to the central corridor that eventually takes you
to the Main Command Center."  Rollins pointed.
   "Looks like we'll have to blow the door with a medium level charge
to get inside."
   "Not necessarily," Rollins said as he squinted his eyes at the
familiar sight.   He stepped in front of Hera and went into a leisurely
sprint.   When he reached the door, he looked down and began to chuckle
ironically.
   "Son of a bitch," he laughed, "Son of a bitch."
   "What?" Hera frowned as she came up behind him.
   "I think I can still use my old entry code to gain access to the
place."  Rollins pointed to the small keyboard console on the wall next
to the door.  "The lights are still blinking.  It looks like the
batteries to this unit stayed in a perfect state of preservation so
that means I can still get in the easy way," he entered six digits on
the keyboard that NASA had assigned to him so long ago.   After hitting
the ENTER button, there was a pause and then a groaning sound as the
door swung open.
   "Amazing," Cornelius could scarcely believe it.  He was used to
finding and studying ancient ruins, but not seeing ones that actually
still functioned.
   "Okay Colonel," Hera motioned, clearly impressed.  "Lead the way."
   Rollins stepped in first, shining the beacon down the darkened
corridor.   He took his steps slow and tentatively, letting his head
wander all around to take in the familiar surroundings.  Inside, the
sealed complex had caused stagnant air to recycle and produce the decay
that had not been present in the airless vacuum outside.  Wires hung
from the ceiling, while the walls bore the telltale signs of peeling
paint and rust.  Along the floor lay discarded pieces of space suits,
as this had been the chamber where astronauts would remove their EVA
suits before entering the main complex.  Once, his light shined across
the front of one where the name stitched on the left side was still
visible.  It read LARSON.  Obviously the property of someone who had
joined the space program long after Rollins had left Earth in 1975, as
he couldn't recall anyone by that name during his time.
   He reached the doorway that led to the Command Center and squinted
through the thick plexiglass window in the center.
   "Lieutenant," he said with renewed amazement, "I think you'd better
send someone back to close the door behind us."
   "What for?"  The Galactica warrior asked, not bothering to correct
the astronaut's error on her rank.
   "Because there are active power terminals in the Command Center," he
could scarcely believe it.  "I can see a whole row of blinking lights
from what I know are the old computer terminals."
   "You're sure of that?" Hera came alongside him and had to stand on
her toes so she could glimpse inside.
   "Positive."
   Hera craned her head as far as she could go, but soon could see the
columns of blinking red lights somewhere inside the next room.
   "Amazing," she said and turned around, "Malek, go close the door.  
If we're going to open this one up, we don't want the pressure vacuum
from the outside to affect the Command Center."
   The technician nodded and went back down the corridor to where
they'd entered.  A moment later, the main door that led out to the
lunar surface was closed again.
   "Try your access code again, Colonel," Hera motioned as she shined
her beacon on another keyboard panel on the side.
   "This should work," Rollins took a breath, "The power lines to this
run from the other side, so the decay here in the corridor shouldn't
have damaged the system."  He entered the six digit code, pressed the
ENTER button and held his breath.
   Once again, the onlookers felt a sense of amazement as the door
opened, this time sliding up into a recessed opening.
   Rollins walked in and reached around for where he knew the light
switch was.  He pushed it up and seconds later, the overhead lights
came on.
   "Incredible," Cornelius said, "After all these thousands of years."
   "Do you know what could account for the power still being active,
Colonel?"
   "I haven't the foggiest," Rollins shook his head, "But someone went
to a lot of trouble to make sure this place was in a state of almost
perfect preservation.   That's for sure."
   "What's that?" Lycus, the med-tech assigned to the team, spoke up
for the first time as he pointed to his right.
   Rollins looked over and grinned when he saw that the plastic encased
exhibit marking the exact spot where the Apollo XI lunar module Eagle
had landed in July 1969 was still there.  The discarded lower stage of
the lunar module sprouted from a section of lunar soil where the first
footprints of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin still lay preserved for
eternity.   In front of the exhibit stood the giant photo of John F.
Kennedy and his famous quote from his 1961 address to Congress about
getting to the moon by the end of the decade.
   "Little memento of the first time mankind set foot here," he said,
and then glanced at Hera, "I guess that's not exactly true though, in
light of how the Earth was first settled."
   "No," Hera smiled thinly and shook her head.   She turned away from
the exhibit and looked back at the blinking computer terminals.  "What
do these computers do?"
   "Should be basic monitoring and data centers."  Rollins came over
and knelt in front of the IBM system.  "Hello.  It looks like someone
hooked up a video tape system to this console.  Boy, they learned how
to streamline those things a lot."
   "Hera," Cornelius was standing near a table at the center of the
room.  "Look at this.  There's some kind of note here."
   The warrior went over and looked down at the table, where a single
sheet of paper lay in the middle.  PRESS PLAY BUTTON ON MACHINE.
   "Colonel Rollins," Hera gathered her strength, "I think there's a
message for us on that machine."


   The impersonal silence that had filled the second shuttle all the
way to Earth continued to linger even after the vehicle came to a stop
on the planet's surface, in the clearing two miles from Ape City.  
Both Taylor and Zira were determined not to leave first and kept their
eyes on the rest of the Ape delegation.   Finally, Claudius rose from
his seat, followed by Dr. Zaius, Honorius and Dr. Milo.
   "Thank you for transporting us," the Ape President said to the
shuttle pilot, "My best wishes to Commander Apollo and I look forward
to meeting him again."
   "I'll pass your good wishes to him," the pilot said as he activated
the switch that opened the hatch.
   As soon as it finished opening, Claudius prepared to descend, and
then stopped in stunned disbelief when he saw a gorilla officer
pointing a rifle at him.
   "Stand aside, Mr. President," Colonel Urko said coldly.
   "What is the meaning of this?" the Ape President spluttered with
indignation.
   The shuttle pilot, who had been going over his return flight
checklist, moved for his laser pistol and never got to it when a single
blast from Urko's rifle struck him in the face.  He collapsed back in
his chair, staying in place because of his safety harness.  The only
movement in his body was of the blood streaming out of his mortal
wound.
   "That will tell you how serious we are, Mr. President," Urko said in
that same, cold menacing tone.  "Stand aside."
   "I order you to put down your weapon, Colonel!"
   Just then, General Ursus stepped alongside his chief aide.  The Ape
Police commander had the most smug expression of his life.
   "I don't take orders from a traitor, Mr. President," he said with
contempt.  "Nor does anyone else in my command."
   At the back of the shuttle, Taylor and Zira could hear everything
that was happening and knew right away what it meant.
   "Zira," he whispered to her, "The rear compartment.  We have to get
there."
   "Agreed." she whispered back.  "Their rifles can't penetrate the
hull."
   Taylor frantically pushed Nova toward the back and then Zira. He
only glanced behind him for a second and then dashed toward the rear
compartment.
   "Where's the damn control switch?" he tried not to panic as he
fumbled at the panel on the wall.  He ended up pressing several
different buttons before the door slammed down and sealed them off from
the forward part of the shuttle. 
   The sound of the door slamming shut caught the attention of Ursus
and Urko who shoved Claudius aside and dashed into the shuttle's
interior.
   "Who's in there?"  Ursus demanded.  "Who's in there?"
   "No one," Dr. Milo stepped forward and said defiantly.  "No one at
all.  Isn't that right, Honorius?"
   The Justice Minister glanced at him oddly for an instant and then
slowly nodded.  "Yes," he said, "No one."
   The gorilla general looked them over.  "You seem to be missing
several important people from your delegation."
   "They didn't return with us!" the fur on Milo's brow bristled. 
"They chose to remain aboard the Galactica for now."
   Ursus smirked with contempt and then turned to the one remaining
member of the delegation.
   "Well, Dr. Zaius?" he inquired.  "Is this true?"
   The Chief Scientist didn't say anything.  He looked at Ursus, then
at Claudius, then at Milo and Honorius, and finally back at the gorilla
general.
   "Well?" Ursus repeated.  "Is it true?"
   "No," Dr. Zaius shook his head, "Dr. Zira, Taylor and his woman are
with us.  Only Cornelius remained behind."
   "Your honesty serves you well, Doctor."  Ursus said triumphantly and
motioned outside.  "I need several marksmen to stand guard outside the
door.  They can't stay in there forever!"
   Three gorilla soldiers with their rifles at the ready entered the
shuttle.  They shoved their way past Honorius and Milo and took up
position in front of the sealed compartment door.
   Claudius drew himself up to an inch of Ursus, "My suspicions about
you were correct, General."  He said with anger and bitterness.  "You
are a traitor to our society, and when I get through with you, you will
force me to revoke the most sacred commandment the Lawgiver ever lay
down.  You and every one of your conspirators will be executed!"
   "I think not, my dear Claudius!" Ursus shot back, no longer willing
to address him by title.  "It is you and your ilk that are the real
traitors.   Selling out our civilization to make us the slaves of a
human tribe!  A true patriot would overlook whatever toys they have and
devise a means of fighting back, and conquering them!  And that is why
I took the liberty of organizing my men during your absence to take the
critical first step that will enable us to beat those invaders and send
them back across the stars from whence they came.  We start with this
shuttle, and their weapons, and we learn how to fight them with their
own technology.  And then they will be forced to think twice about
imposing their will on us."
   "You're mad, Ursus," Claudius hissed.  "Totally mad.  What they
possess is superior to anything our society is capable of developing. 
They will rain destruction upon us as we could never have imagined in
our lives."
   "No they will not!"  Dr. Zaius suddenly spoke up sharply, "You saw
in that Council meeting how their own government is divided on whether
or not to settle on this planet!  There are many in their ranks that
would prefer to cede this planet to our control.  A show of force that
would prove costly against them should be enough to let that faction
prevail and make those Colonials withdraw from this planet forever!"
   Claudius glared at the Chief Scientist with the most hateful
expression he ever summoned.  "Every instinct I've had about you Dr.
Zaius, has now been borne out."
   "Perhaps," Zaius seemed unfazed.  "But I would prefer to die in the
name of what I think is right, even if this cause is doomed to fail."
   "Through our united stance against the human scum, we will not
fail!" Ursus shouted defiantly and then slammed the end of his rifle
against Claudius's head.  The Ape President staggered several steps and
had to grab hold of one of the shuttle seats to keep from falling.
   "United stance, General?" Dr. Milo folded his arms and acidly
retorted.  "Do you really think for a moment that sane thinking
chimpanzees will follow a gorilla dunderhead like you?"
   "Chimpanzees are always willing to follow a sensible thinking
chimpanzee anytime," Ursus smirked and then turned around, "Isn't that
right, Professor?"
   There was a pause as they heard the mounting of the steps from
outside, and then Professor Sylvan entered the shuttle with a smirk to
match the gorilla general's.
   "I have been chosen the new President of the Assembly," the scholar
said.  "The first chimpanzee to ever hold such a high office after all
these centuries of orangutan domination of the political class.   The
chimpanzees are thus forced to realize that their best opportunities
lie in our cause, and not the cause of treason."
   "I should have known," Claudius wanted to spit at the chimpanzee
scholar.  "You planned this, didn't you?"
   "Of course," Sylvan laughed.  "General Ursus was at first unwilling
to take any action until a plan was put forth to him.  And so I came up
with one.  Seize power in your absence, and then stage a raid that
would ensure the capture of vital elements of their technology that we
can one day duplicate, and use to drive them back."
   "You'll never be able to develop anything, Sylvan," Honorius said
gravely, "You can not match anything that they have.  Their numbers are
too large, and their will is strong."
   "And you won't get my help developing any weapons to use against
them!" Milo added.  "Develop them yourself.  It should only take your
thimble-sized brain a thousand years to come up with something."
   "You will soon change your mind about that, Dr. Milo."  Sylvan
pointed his rifle at them.  "General, I suggest we take our prisoners
back to Ape City for internment and then trial."
   "I agree," Ursus bowed with polite deference and then turned to the
gorilla soldiers stationed in front of the sealed door to the rear
compartment.  "Wait them out.  The minute that door is opened, you are
to kill Taylor and his woman.  Dr. Zira we want alive to stand trial."
   "Yes sir!" the lead sergeant saluted.


   "This is Blue leader to all squadrons," Starbuck said as he moved
into the lead position of the viper groups.  "Stand by to engage all
incoming Cylon fighters.  Utilize two-prong strategy to achieve maximum
results.  If you lose your partner or become separated, then hook up
immediately with another prong for three fighter strike."
   "Captain," Boxey spoke up, "Request permission to fly with you on
the first go-round."
   Starbuck glanced over and could see his viper coming up alongside
him.
   "Boxey," he grinned, "It'll be my pleasure."
   The agro ship passed beneath them, as did a cluster of other
civilian ships in the Fleet.  "Ten microns to engagement."  Jolly
radioed.
   "I see them," Starbuck kept his eyes forward.  "We'll break in
two-prong groups in five, four, three, two, one, mark!"
   The vipers then dispersed into numerous groups of two to take on the
approaching wave of Cylon fighters from as many different angles as
they could.


   "A message," Rollins amazement increased.  "Some kind of message on
that tape.   That has to explain why the power was still functioning in
this section.  Whoever made that tape wanted to be sure that it could
be played back someday."
   "Play it," Hera urged, "Let's find out who made it and what it
says."
   Rollins inspected the machine.  Video tape players were a new
novelty at the time he left Earth so he understood the basic principle
of how they operated.  This one was more streamlined than the models he
recalled and appeared to operate on the same principle as an ordinary
cassette player.  All one had to do was press the play button.  Feeling
the anxious sweat forming on his hands inside his spacesuit, he managed
to gently press it.
   On the twelve inch monitor above the screen, a black screen emerged
for several seconds.  Then the picture seemed to bend slightly, and
finally a face emerged.  It was the craggy, lined face of a middle-age
man, perhaps fifty-five or sixty years old.  He wore what Rollins
recognized as a Class A U.S. Air Force uniform, with the single star of
a brigadier general on the shoulders.  Behind the man, Rollins could
recognize the Apollo XI exhibit of the room they were now standing in. 
He seemed weary and drained of energy as he took a breath and began to
speak.
   "If this tape is being played back, then I hope and I pray that it's
by the people for whom it is ultimately intended.  Not people from my
own time who have managed to follow us here to the moon a month or two
after our arrival, because they already know the details and won't have
much to gain by this knowledge.  This tape is intended for....oh God,
even I'm not really sure.  Aliens from another planet who need to
understand what the Earth was like before it all happened could learn
from it.  But I suppose the one group of people I really hope see this
message someday are those left behind who may not be able to find their
way here for a thousand years or five thousand years.   Somewhere there
must be people who have managed to survive all this time and who are
managing to flourish in spite of the devastation that affects the
entire planet....as well as the...madness that I have seen firsthand. 
They will want to know what happened to others like them, and where we
have gone.
   "To begin with, my name is General Russell Tower, United States Air
Force.  At the time of the War, I was a captain, attached to the 15th
Air Force based at Plattsburgh Air Force Base in upstate New York, just
twenty miles from the border between the United States and Canada.  I
was one of over two hundred personnel at the base that managed to
survive the attack.  For some reason, Plattsburgh was never a direct
target of Soviet or Chinese nuclear missiles.   However, because
Montreal and Buffalo took direct hits, we were at risk from lethal
fallout clouds from both targets.  But Plattsburgh was one of the few
military bases in the United States designed with a deep underground
shelter that could enable life to continue even in the event of a
direct hit.   And so, two hundred of us went underground the day of the
war and stayed there.  We had adequate provisions to last us for more
than a year and we spent that time wisely learning to develop our
underground base into a veritable colony that could survive much longer
than a year.
   "I am however, getting too far ahead of myself, because I should
really begin with an explanation of how the war began.  I am certain
that by this point, the reasons for how and why it happened have become
forgotten and so many who examine their sad plight ask every night, how
and why could something so horrible and so terrible have happened.  
Especially if any of them have been told by their ancestors of what it
was like on Earth before the War.  When the Earth was, for all its
flaws, a Paradise in comparison to what exists now.
   "The War began on January 17, 1998 when the first missiles were
fired.  But I really think that the road to that War began long before
that.  A quarter century before in the wake of the Magellan disasters."
   Rollins stiffened and felt his hair stand on edge.  Abruptly, he
pressed the stop button.
   "Colonel?" Hera was puzzled, "Why did you stop it?"
   The Air Force colonel was almost hyperventilating.  "That's my
flight he's talking about.  Mine and Colonel Taylor's!"
   "Steady, steady," Hera grabbed hold of him.  "Lycus, get over here!"
she called.
   The med-tech dashed up to them and increased the oxygen flow in
Rollins' spacesuit.  It took the astronaut almost a full minute before
he managed to return to normal breathing.
   "Oh God," Rollins whispered, "I think I'm going to be sick."
   "Don't," Hera said forcefully as she kept hold of his arm.  "If you
do inside that suit, you'll die."
   "Maybe I should if that's....." he shook his head and shuddered
visibly.
   "No," she squeezed his arm, "Now damn it, sit down and get hold of
yourself.  Calm down."
   "Colonel," Cornelius moved in, "You....you think that based on what
that man said, you're going to find out that....you and Taylor were
responsible for that war happening?"
   "That's what he seems to imply."  Rollins slowly caught his breath.
   "There's one way to find out," Hera said, "And that's hear the rest
of it.  Maybe it doesn't mean that at all."
   "I'm not sure."
   "Ensign," Lycus said with concern, "Do you think we shouldC"
   "That's not relevant at this point, Lycus." Hera shook her head and
got to her feet.  "We have to play the rest of that tape one way or the
other, and it might as well be now."
   The blonde ensign then moved back to the machine and calmly pressed
the play button again.


   "Our vipers have engaged the Cylons.  The numbers seem to give them
an even chance of keeping them off the Fleet's back."
   "Thank God for that," Apollo grunted as he sat down in front of the
console on the upper level.  "What about those scans of the outer
planets?"
   Sheba looked down to the lower level, "Omega?"
   "I should have the full readout for them in five microns," the
bridge officer replied.
   Apollo rubbed his fingers nervously as he waited for the readouts to
appear on the monitor.
   He first saw a negative reading for the giant planets that he now
knew bore the names, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.  That didn't
surprise him since all indications were that they were comprised
principally of hydrogen and helium.
   Then came the readouts for the various satellites orbiting the gas
giants.   When one line of type appeared, Apollo suddenly came upright
in his chair.
   "We've found it!" he got to his feet.  "We have our target!"
   "Where?" Sheba could scarcely believe it.
   "There," Apollo went over to the navigation board and pointed to a
spot next to Jupiter.  "The largest satellite of this planet. 
According to Rollins and Taylor it's called Ganymede.  Readout shows
thin oxygen atmosphere caused by sunlight particles breaking up a
frozen water based atmosphere.  Large traces of ozone indicating
substantial oxygen output over the entire surface."
   "Will that be enough?" Sheba wasn't sure if she could sound
encouraging.  "That moon has to have a frozen base at its core, not a
molten one like Earth which could make the effect of the bomb's
explosion all the greater."
   "We just have to take that chance," Apollo said, "I'm not detonating
that thing at Mars.  This target has to work."  He picked up his
headset.  "Boomer?"
   "One more centar, Commander."
   "I want to know the exact micron you're ready," the commander said
forcefully.  "Our target's been picked and we'll need to move fast."


   "Well?" Zira tried hard to keep her voice on an even level.
   Taylor, who'd been keeping his ear pressed to the door, got to his
feet.  "I have a feeling they're waiting out there for us."
   "What do we do then?"
   The one-time astronaut sighed, "That remains to be seen."  He walked
back to explore the rest of the compartment.  "Let's see now," he
examined a small mounting on the side of the compartment and flicked a
switch.  "How nice.   A water dispensary, so we won't die of thirst." 
He then moved on and activated a sliding panel.  As soon as it opened,
he smiled with grim satisfaction.  "Even better.  The Colonials keep
their weapons stored back here.  We've got more than enough firepower
to use against them if they should blow their way in."  He then
realized what he was saying and awkwardly glanced back at Zira.  "I'm
sorry, I ah didn't realize that----"
   "Forget it," Zira sighed with resignation.  "I think at this point,
the Lawgiver's commandment about ape never killing ape has just been
rendered meaningless, along with all those pacifistic doctrines I've
prided myself on all my life." she felt herself trembling.  "Seeing
Sylvan engineer this makes me realize for the first time that it isn't
just gorillas or orangutans capable of such, such..." she trailed off.
   "You've discovered your race isn't perfect, just like I had to find
out about my own," Taylor was empathetic as he handed her a laser
pistol.  "Can you handle this?"
   The chimpanzee psychologist looked up at him and then calmly took
the pistol.  "I can.  And I'm prepared to die for you and Nova if I
have to, Taylor."
   Taylor smiled at her, "I'd like to express my thanks with another
kiss of gratitude."
   "You may," she returned it.  "Just don't tell Cornelius I let you do
it again."
   Taylor leaned forward and as he had done when he'd said goodbye to
her on the beach so long ago, gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek. 
   Then, with Nova leaning against the back wall of the compartment
with her baby clasped to her, the human and the chimpanzee took up
their positions in front of the compartment door, their pistols at the
ready and prepared to kill the first ape that tried to force its way
in.


   "Did they turn back?" Baltar's voice remained dispassionate.
   "They did."  Lucifer said.  "And just in time to prevent our
attacking force from scoring a major blow against the Fleet."
   "Hmmm," the traitor tapped his metallic fingers against the side of
his throne chair.  "It would seem then that more fighters are called
for at this time.  I want all the squadrons from all baseships engaged
against the Fleet immediately.  Those numbers will be enough to begin
inflicting serious damage."
   "But Baltar," the IL protested.  "The Colonials have always been
able to handle a three to one numerical advantage.   We run the risk of
losing more of our fighters than we could ever allow at this point,
when we are so far and distant from Cylon or any other outpost in the
Empire."
   "My dear Lucifer," Baltar cut him off, "I am beginning to sense that
caution is no longer a wise course of action for us.  The Galactica is
preparing herself for what it thinks will be the final strike.  They
have some kind of plan devised.  The only way to negate that strategy
is to increase the pressure on them and make their inner will crack."
   "You overlook something, Baltar," Lucifer noted, "We have held back
all these yahrens because you were convinced that we needed the
Galactica to lead us to Earth.  If we increase the stakes in this
present engagement, we may be forced to violate our standing policy and
destroy the Galactica before that objective is accomplished."
   "We will not destroy the Galactica," Baltar said calmly and
deliberatively.  The many yahrens of replacing his body parts with
cybernetic substitutes had in a strange way removed much of the feisty
bombast from his voice that had been so typical of him yahrens ago. 
"That in itself will enable us to keep the long-term objective open. 
For now, we must accomplish the goal of inflicting devastation on her
Fleet, and the only thing that will bring that about is to launch all
fighters now, Lucifer.  See to it."
   The IL felt the frustration threaten to cause an overload of his
circuits.   He never thought he could bring himself to admit it, but he
missed the old, pre-cybernetic Baltar.  That Baltar had been so easy to
put down.  So easy to deflate with a quick retort that would
immediately puncture his ego.  But Baltar in many respects was more
Cylon than bombastic human now.  He had the cold, calm, deliberative
thought of an Imperious Leader.  The very kind of Cylon that never
ceased to both irritate and intimidate an IL like Lucifer.   Irritating
in that they always knew how to make a point more effectively than any
other Cylon.  And intimidating in that they always left one powerless
to come up with a forceful alternative.
   As he glided out of the throne room, Lucifer wondered for the first
time if he could sense his own demise looming on the horizon.


   Rollins had settled himself into a chair in front of the Apollo XI
exhibit to catch his breath just as Hera pressed the button that
started the tape again.  Once again, the face of the Air Force general
named Russell Tower filled the screen.
   "Back in 1972 America was strong, prosperous and unafraid to stand
up for what it felt was right.  Above all, through an active space
program, we kept the Chinese and the Soviets on their toes and they
realized that they were dealing with a determined adversary that was
willing to commit its resources to do whatever it could to stay on top. 
 A lot of people said that we were playing with the safety of the world
by engaging them in arms races and in space races, but the fact is we
were actually preserving the peace.  Keeping things in a precarious
balance that ultimately made both sides realize there was no point
having a war when neither side could win.
   "And then....America lost its greatness.  It really started with the
failure of the Magellan expedition.   That was our first deep space
exploration.   A mission to go 2000 years into the future and carry the
first humans to a distant planet for colonization.  Well...six months
after that we found out that the Magellan had been built with a
defective navigation system and that four astronauts were hopelessly
lost out there without realizing it.  That led to the Magellan II
expedition in 1975 which was supposed to be the heroic rescue attempt. 
Dr. Otto Hasslein, the big genius of America's space program had come
up with a formula for how the next spaceship could follow the track of
the first one and once having found the Magellan could in effect return
through time to the present.   When that happened, then bang, America's
credibility as a space power would be restored and the Soviets and
Chinese would keep their respect for us.
   "Well....the Magellan II was never heard from again either.  And
before you knew it, there was a big uproar in the country about what a
frivolous waste America's space program was, and that America was
wasting too much in these races with the Chinese and Russians. 
President Nixon was forced to ask for Hasslein's resignation to appease
those groups, but he hoped to continue the program as a way of keeping
pace with the out-of-control expansion the Soviets and Chinese were
making in space technologies.
   "But then in 1976, America elected a new president, whose name I
have too much contempt for to ever mention as I feel it should be lost
to the ages, and he decided the time had come to cut back on the space
program, and cut back on keeping up with the communist superpowers.  He
thought it was simply a case of America turning its attention inward to
more important problems.  But what he did was give some dangerous men
in Moscow and Peking the idea that America was becoming weak and
decadent.
   "Well....suffice to say, the 1980s and early 90s was a disaster for
the cause of freedom.   America had lost its nerve.  Before you knew
it, the Soviets and Chinese kissed and made-up and instead of being
rival communist powers that hated each other like they'd been in the
50s and 60s, they were now bosom chums working together and promoting
revolutions all across Asia, Africa and South America.   And America
had just retreated into its shell and stood by and watched.  All over
the world, one new hostile government after another came to power.  And
it wasn't just on Earth.  The Soviets and Chinese now merged their
space programs together and were soon building joint bases on the moon.
It....God, it makes me sick to realize how pathetic a country we
became.  But the real insult came in 1994 when the Soviets actually
staged an invasion of Alaska.  They correctly guessed that America no
longer had the will to stand up for its rights in the face of
aggression even on its own territory, that ultimately they could get
away with invading a state of the union and seizing important oil
reserves that the Soviets badly needed for their own energy needs since
they had totally mishandled their own natural resources.
   "America soon paid the price for its complacency, and soon after
that, so did the whole world.  The presidential election of 1996 saw
the return to power of leadership that wanted to get America back to a
firm policy, but by then it was too late.  We'd been complacent and
idle for so long that the men in Moscow and Peking no longer thought we
meant it when we said we were going back to the old policy of
confronting them forcefully if we had to.  So the president gave Moscow
an ultimatum and said that if all foreign troops weren't out of Alaska
in 48 hours than it would mean war.  The Soviets and the Chinese saw
the threat as pure bluff.  But...as it turned out, our president wasn't
bluffing.  And that lead to the outbreak of a full-scale nuclear war on
January 17, 1998."
   Hera abruptly stopped the tape and went back to Rollins who was
still shaking slightly.
   "Colonel," she said forcefully, "You're not to blame."
   "If we'd gone back..." Rollins felt himself wondering if he'd made
the wrong decision when he'd sided against Brent during that
confrontation outside St. Patrick's Cathedral.
   "You couldn't go back, because we never would have let you," Hera
pressed on.  "And second, the fault was your country's leadership for
the way they reacted to your disappearance.  It wasn't your fault." she
repeated with emphasis.
   "You might be right," Rollins took a breath, "But still...."
   "I know, I know," she said sympathetically.  "It's not easy to come
to terms with, but you have to understand that."  She then turned to
Lycus, "Lycus, it's just occurred to me that with the power running, we
might not have to keep these suits on.  Check the atmosphere to see if
it's okay for us."
   The med-tech nodded and took out his microscanner.  After a quick
evaluation, he nodded.  "It checks."
   "Take off your helmet Colonel, and then take a few deep breaths,"
Hera said as she loosened the astronaut's helmet.  It took Rollins a
full minute before he summoned the strength to remove it.  When he did,
he took several long grateful gulps of air.
   "Thanks," he said with gratitude, "That feels a lot better.  IC"
   "Don't mention it," Hera kept her tone curt as she then turned to
the rest of the team, "Okay, you can take yours off too."
   As soon as they had all removed their helmets, Hera went back to the
machine and pressed the play button again.
   "....As I said, when the war happened I was one of the lucky ones at
Plattsburgh that managed to survive the Holocaust.  We spent the next
year buried underground trying to turn what we had into a colony that
could survive indefinitely.  Using our facilities to find ways of
recirculating our air, recycling water, growing our own food.  Through
occasional forays to the surface, we managed to gather the resources we
needed and we actually made it work.  For the next eighteen years, the
two hundred survivors of Plattsburgh actually developed a thriving
colony.  We had marriages and births, and we lived with a sense of
optimism that from the ashes of the Holocaust, we could ensure that
life would continue on our planet.
   "That optimism came to an end after eighteen years when we realized
that we had totally exhausted all of our supplies.  The equipment at
the base that had stayed functioning all this time was breaking down
and we couldn't fix it.  We had also run dangerously low on supplies of
fuel that had been scavenged from airplanes and motor vehicles that had
kept our systems powered.  Not long after that, we suffered a
devastating earthquake that....totally altered the natural topography
of the area surrounding Plattsburgh, turning a potentially fertile,
agriculture region into a new desert.   An aftereffect of all the
nuclear blasts the area had been subjected to.   At any rate, it all
but made it impossible for us to consider relocating to another part of
the Plattsburgh environs.  If our colony was to survive for the
long-term, we had to venture elsewhere and find some pocket of life
that had managed to flourish during all this time since the War.
   "It took us more than a year of planning to get our population
together for our journey.   We had already decided that we would move
south, towards New York City.   Long ago, we had managed to get
fragmented radio reports just after the War that the missiles had
missed their targets and that Manhattan had escaped direct destruction. 
We had also heard a vague story, that the deputy mayor of the city,
someone named Mendez, had gathered survivors into a colony based under
Grand Central Station.
   "And so, we began our trek down from Plattsburgh in the year 2017. 
We brought our children, our available resources, and most importantly
we brought with us something more significant.  The Alpha-Omega Bomb."
   Cornelius looked at Rollins with amazement, "Your surmises about how
the bomb ended up in New York appear to have been correct."
   "So it would seem," Rollins grunted, still shaken by the revelations
of how the war had happened.
   For the next five minutes, General Tower described exactly what
Rollins, Cornelius and Hera already knew from their prior reading of
the Mendez II Testament that the Air Force colonel had retrieved from
St. Patrick's Cathedral.  This time, they heard the perspective from
the other side, of how they had arrived in New York and discovered that
the humans under Mendez II had begun their descent into madness, and
had attacked the convoy of soldiers and their children as the evil ones
responsible for the destruction.   Totally caught off-guard by the
sudden attacks, the Plattsburgh contingent had almost been decimated. 
What had started out as a group of three hundred and twelve, had been
reduced to forty-eight in a matter of days.  And in the process, the
Alpha-Omega Bomb had been captured by the forces of Mendez II.
   "We had taken the Bomb with us because we felt it was paramount to
maintain it in safe hands."  Tower went on, "And now we had lost it.  
A hostile tribe was in possession of something that would mean the end
of all remaining life on Earth as we knew it.   Since I was the senior
most surviving officer, that put me in command of our group.  I knew
that security on this very planet was impossible for our tribe if it
had to constantly worry about a mad tribe possessing the Alpha-Omega
Bomb.   So that was when I decided that we would resume our trek.  Our
final destination would be Cape Canaveral.   We had to see if there was
any hope left of getting off this planet safely.   If any of our old
space shuttles were still there perhaps by a miracle we could get them
functional again.   If we could reach the moon and the bases that had
been built there, we might at least have some hope again.   The
moonbases we knew, had become self-sufficient colonies at their peak
before the war.  If it was possible to settle there, then maybe our
tribe could have the chance to live in safety from the danger the
Alpha-Omega Bomb now posed to us.  Not just the one the madmen now
held, but there also remained the matter of the second bomb located at
SAC Headquarters in Omaha, and the third one located at Vandenberg Air
Force Base in California."
   Rollins abruptly let out a sigh of relief, "We know.  Thank God we
know for certain where the other two bombs are!   We can go back and
retrieve them."
   Hera felt relieved too.  "If you can direct search teams to those
locations Colonel, I'm sure we can see to it that they be recovered."
   "And so we resumed our journey south."  The message went on.  
"Deviating around Philadelphia and Baltimore, which had both been wiped
out by direct hits.  We came to Washington, which had also taken a
direct hit but we were interested to see if anything recognizable was
still there.   We finally pinpointed where the Mall had been when we
found a dry ditch that we soon realized was where the Potomac River had
once flowed and backtracked from there.   There were only a few stumps
of metal protruding from the ground, totally impossible to realize
which building they had once been.  And then, to our amazement,
Lieutenant, now Colonel Maxwell at one point did some digging by
another stump of wreckage and discovered the vault where the original
copies of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution had been
lowered into the ground of the National Archives' basement to preserve
them from destruction.   We spent something like an hour or two prying
the vault open, and when we freed them it lifted our morale like never
before.
   "Our journey continued south.   After one whole year since leaving
New York, we linked up with fifty more human survivors from Fort Bragg
in North Carolina.   There was slightly less devastation in the
southern region of the country and we soon found more groups willing to
join us.   Finally, on May 4, 2020, more than three years after we'd
first set out from Plattsburgh, two hundred of us reached Cape
Canaveral.  Covered with fallout ash from missiles that had destroyed
Jacksonville and Orlando, but for the most part free of destruction.  
The launch pads, the Vehicle Assembly Building.  They were all still
there.  Along with what at this time we are hoping becomes the final
instrument of our salvation.   Buried in an underground hangar, free of
any damage was a spacecraft.  A spacecraft that had been built in
secret in the late 1970s in defiance of presidential orders to
discontinue the program and kept hidden all this time before and after
the war.   The Magellan III."
   Rollins' head suddenly darted up in amazement.
   "We found locked in a safe, the papers of Dr. Otto Hasslein, the
genius responsible for America's glory days in space.   Hasslein
explained that he had secretly ordered construction of a new
interstellar spacecraft shortly after the Magellan II mission had been
launched in 1975, because he wanted to have a new, more advanced ship
ready to resume the original purpose of the first Magellan expedition,
which was to colonize a distant world.   When the Magellan II failed to
return from its rescue mission though, Hasslein knew that the program
was doomed.  But he had no intention of letting the original vision
die, and so construction continued and in 1978 the Magellan III, more
advanced in every sense from its two predecessors, was completed and
placed in safe storage out of view from any Congressional or
Presidential investigators who might have ordered its destruction.  
Hasslein's genius when he had ran America's secret space program in the
1960s had come to the forefront again.   And even more miraculous for
us is that he not only wrote down why he had it built, he also put
aside all the papers on how it functioned and what was needed to get it
to fly.
   "We needed another year of our entire colony working together to get
the spacecraft out of its underground hangar.   Then, we carefully went
over every critical part and determined that despite being idle for
almost a half century nothing was damaged and everything was capable of
functioning.   All that remained was getting everyone inside, which was
thankfully possible because unlike the first two Magellans, which could
only handle ten people at maximum, the Magellan III was capable of
supporting two hundred people.   Since at this point, our population
numbered 165, we never had to worry about the horrible prospect of
leaving anyone behind.
   "On May 20, 2022, we were ready.   Our destination was the moon, to
evaluate the state of the moonbases.   With myself acting as pilot, and
Colonel Maxwell as co-pilot we left Cape Canaveral and the Earth for
the last time."
   The general's tone grew wistful, "It was really something when we
first saw the Earth from space.   How undamaged it seemed.  One could
scarcely imagine that below lay devastated ruins and wastelands where
twenty years before there had been a flawed but thriving planet.  That
was probably the only time any of us felt any regret about leaving
Earth forever.   But we knew it was something that had to be done.
   "The journey to the moon took four days.   We had decided to try for
Port Goddard, the third and most advanced of the American moon bases
that had been built.   When we landed next to the facility, we found an
undamaged complex, but to our horror, found no survivors.  What we
found instead, were the skeletons of more than two hundred men, women
and children, what we realized had to be the full complement of people
at Port Goddard at the time of the war.   All of them it had seemed,
had committed mass suicide long ago.  The diary of Port Goddard's
commanding officer, General Buckner, told a horrifying tale of despair
when news of the war had reached them.   The belief that nothing could
be done to perpetuate life on the moon had led to a horrible decision
to commit mass suicide rather than face the prospect of slow death from
lack of air and supplies.
   "The same thing was true at Port Armstrong, the second base
constructed, and also at Port Kennedy and as it turned out the same
thing had happened at the four Soviet-Chinese bases as well.  All in
all, more than eight hundred people had decided to kill themselves
rather than try to see if they could sustain life on the moon.
   "We still aren't certain whether the fear was justified.  When the
staff here at Port Kennedy committed suicide, they shut the power
systems off and as a result we were able to reactivate them, which is
why I am able now to record this message.  Some of the scientists in
our ranks think it was theoretically possible to harness solar energy
collectors to keep the power systems running indefinitely here on the
moon, so it may be that the mass suicides amounted to a tragic
miscalculation brought on by the feelings of depression that set in
after the war broke out, and they all realized that they had no chance
of returning home again.
   "So....that in essence is the story of how I and my colony came to
be here on the moon.   You now ask, where have we gone?  Why have we
not chosen to stay and draw upon what is left here on the various
bases?
   "I would have considered that were it not for the fact that a
greater opportunity lies before us because of the nature of what our
spacecraft is.   Had we come to the moon in a conventional moon
shuttle, there would be no other place for us to go.   But the Magellan
III remains a ship that like her predecessors is capable of
interstellar travel.   The failures of her two predecessors should not
discourage us from the thought that reaching a distant world remains
highly possible.
   "And so, as I record this message now, our colony of 165 has now
been loaded into the Magellan III and has entered the hibernation
chambers.   Colonel Maxwell will stand by to act as co-pilot and myself
as pilot as we guide this ship through the stars to any distant spot
that might be capable of sustaining human life.   And offering a new
beginning for our race on a planet unafflicted with environmental
devastation as the Earth now is.
   "At this time, I can only point us in a general direction.  We have
decided that since the original Magellan expedition under Colonel
George Taylor's command was to fly to Betelgeuse in the constellation
Orion, we will go there.  If Betelgeuse does not offer a planet capable
of sustaining life, then we will try Bellatrix, which is also in the
constellation."
   A picture of a star chart then appeared on the screen.
   "This offers a general idea of the path we will take if anyone ever
devises the means to follow us.   With God's help, we may be able to
succeed and allow humanity to start over.
   "And so, I conclude this message.   I have left one solar power
collector in place that should enable the power to sustain itself for
this Main Control Center of Port Kennedy, so future travelers will be
able to play this message and learn.  My request to those who follow is
that they leave this Center operating for those who follow long after
them as well.
   "I only wish there was a way you could tell me if the Earth herself
will have recovered after all this time.  Have the tribes left on Earth
been able to start over amidst the devastation?   Or have the madmen
like those in New York City gained the ascendancy?   Or has something
even worse come into being on the planet as a result of the changed
landscape that now exists there?
   "It is probably a forlorn hope that your descendants and my
descendants will be able to exchange that information with each other. 
 Whatever the case, I hope we are all wiser than we were during that
terrible generation when the human race went utterly mad."
   General Tower then rose from his chair in front of the Apollo XI
exhibit.  The image continued to play for another two minutes in
silence before the picture went black.
   Malek was the first to break the silence.  "Incredible."
   "It explains a lot," Cornelius said, "From what I recall seeing in
the Unknown Scrolls Dr. Zaius showed me, the human tribes that the Apes
subjugated one thousand years ago were much more brutal, less
coordinated.   I would say that in the thousand year period between
this great war and the rise of the intelligent ape species, the
remaining human tribes slowly went mad.  Their knowledge was lost to
them because of the devastation and they soon lost the ability to
reeducate future generations because in effect, the best and the
brightest of the survivors left aboard this spacecraft."
   "Which thus accounts for why the apes were able to emerge
victorious," Rollins slowly caught his breath, "Though it still leaves
unanswered how your species evolved to intelligence in the first
place."
   Cornelius shrugged, "That is in all likelihood a question we will
never know the true answer to.  Effects of the radiation causing a
mutation in the species?   The result of a human training effort that
led to a breakthrough in getting apes to emulate human speech and
intelligence because they are the one animal that closely resembles
them?  Or perhaps it's a matter of direct evolution as I once thought,
of humans evolving into apes?"
   "I doubt the latter one very much," Rollins dissented, "That would
not explain why the human species still exists in the primitive mute
state.   The mutation theory seems more plausible to me."
   "Perhaps," Cornelius conceded.  "Further study of the Unknown
Scrolls might reveal more about that."
   "Hera?" Rollins looked over at the blonde ensign.  "Should we return
to the Galactica now?   We've basically found all the information we're
going to get."
   The blonde ensign was silent, her hand on her chin in contemplation.
   "Hera?"
   "I was just thinking," Hera kept looking at the blank screen.  "We
may already know the answer to whether this Magellan III flight was
successful or not."

                    Chapter Twenty

   "Ready to make another pass on three-ship group."  Boxey's voice
successfully concealed all the excitement rushing through his body.
   "Okay," Starbuck replied, "Let's bring 'em around again, wingmate."
   The two of them did another banking maneuver that set them up in
back of a group of three Cylon fighters headed in the direction of the
maintenance ship Celestra.   Starbuck fired first and took out the
fighter on the right.   Then two bursts from Boxey eliminated the other
two.
   "Nice shooting, Boxey!" Starbuck was impressed by how well Boxey was
doing.   He had all the precision of a grizzled veteran who'd been
doing it for yahrens.
   "Silver Spar Leader to Blue Leader!"  Captain Pliny radioed.  "My
scanner shows more Cylons entering the area.   Estimate that all three
baseships have unleashed their full complement!"
   "Oh frack," Starbuck felt his heart skip a beat, "I don't think we
counted on that.  That means we're going to have a lot more than we can
handle when we've got them swarming on the entire Fleet."
   "Starbuck, I recommend we regroup into a single cluster and assume a
barrier in front of the Fleet." Jolly chimed in.
   "Agreed," Starbuck nodded.  "All fighters not presently engaging
Cylons regroup and rendezvous in delta one-three-five sector.   Start
unleashing everything the micron they come into view and don't waste
time with the attack computers.   They're going to be so thick that all
the random shots can't possibly miss."


   A half hour had passed since Taylor and Zira had sealed themselves
off in the rear compartment of the shuttle.  During all that time they
had said nothing, and maintained their vigil in front of the door with
their laser pistols at the ready.
   "Tay-lor?"
   The frightened sound of Nova's voice finally caused Taylor to move
back to the far end of the compartment where his wife and baby lay.  He
knelt beside her and tenderly stroked her hair.
   "It's okay Nova," he said gently, "Everything will be all right."
   His words seemed to have no effect though, because she instantly
shook her head and continued to tremble.
   "Nova," he repeated tenderly, "Nova, don't be afraid.  I'm here to
protect you and Eve.  It's going to be all right."
   "Taylor," Zira spoke up with a slightly glum aura but didn't turn
around, "Maybe you shouldn't lie to her."
   The astronaut got to his feet and looked back at the chimpanzee
psychologist quizzically.  "What are you saying?"
   "I'm saying you shouldn't lie to her, Taylor."  Zira repeated. "So
far, it doesn't look like it is going to be all right.  Sure, we can
shoot the first ones who enter but...." she trailed off.
   "Zira," Taylor came back over to her.  "You can't...."
   "I'm not sure how it's going to work," she sighed.  "All I can see
is us going down with a fight at this point."
   Taylor realized it was foolish to argue.  He knew that Zira was
right.
   "Okay," he said, "Then maybe what we should be doing is looking for
something else back here.  Something that can help us escape."
   "I agree."  Zira nodded.  "You search.  I'll keep watch on the
door."
   Taylor moved back to the door at the far end of the compartment.  He
couldn't remember if this led to another compartment or if it opened up
the back end of the shuttle.  Pressing his ear to the door, he could
hear no sounds that indicated it led to the outside.  With slight
hesitation, he pressed the green button that indicated that it would
open that door, hoping and praying that it didn't activate the door to
the forward compartment.
   A startled Nova slid off to the side as the door went up behind her. 
As soon as Taylor could see the interior, his mouth fell open.
   "Zira," he said with amazement, "I think we've found a way out."
   The psychologist rose from her seat in front of the forward door and
came to the back.  She looked in and her eyes widened too as she saw
the sight of a Colonial landram stored in place.
   "I seem to remember them talking about those things.  A smaller land
transport vehicle they use."
   "Let's have a look inside," Taylor opened the door and settled into
the driver's seat.   Zira helped Nova and Eve into the rear seats and
gently strapped the primitive female in before settling next to Taylor
in the front.  The astronaut stared at the console for what seemed like
an eternity and then found a switch marked MAIN POWER.   With
trepidation, he flicked it on.   Immediately, the console lit up to a
bright red.
   "Okay," Taylor said, "I think that means we've got it active.  
Now...." he trailed off.
   "Now?" Zira prodded.
   Taylor sighed, "I don't know."
   Zira squinted out through the windshield.  "We ought to make sure
we've exhausted everything else in this compartment before we decide
it's time to break out of here."
   The astronaut nodded, "Good point."  He opened the door slid out
into the compartment and made one final survey of the interior
compartment where the landram was housed.  Glancing back into the
compartment they had left, he abruptly snapped his fingers when he saw
that the ammunition storage wall was still wide open.   Right away he
knew it wasn't a good idea to let any of the gorilla soldiers get hold
of them if they ever forced their way in.   He went back into the
compartment and after taking three extra pistols, closed the door and
then fired one blast at the button that opened it so it could stay
shut.
   Taylor examined some of the other consoles he had ignored earlier
and then felt his sense of foolishness increase when he saw something
else he had overlooked.   AUTOMATIC DISTRESS BEACON.  It was underneath
a glass panel on the wall marked by a blue button.  He had to break the
glass with the butt of his laser pistol so he could reach in and press
the button.   It caused the panel to light up, but no sound emitted.
   I hope they pick this up, he thought, remembering that the Galactica
was going to be leaving the area to engage in battle with their enemies
the Cylons.   If that were true, then it could be a long time before
the Colonials would have an inkling of their plight.   At the very
least though, he had done what he could to get some distress signal off
to them.   Now, he and Nova and Zira were truly on their own.
   Taylor returned to the landram and slipped back in, closing the door
firmly and making sure it was securely locked.
   "Some more pistols," he tossed them onto the floor in front of Zira. 
"And I found an automatic distress beacon.   If we're lucky the
Galactica will hear it and send reinforcements back in."
   "We could use them," Zira sighed, "I fear that a display of force is
going to have to be necessary to put these baboons in order."
   Taylor took a breath as he looked down at the console for some type
of ignition switch.   His eyes wandered about the console and first saw
the OPEN SHUTTLE HATCH button, but he knew he couldn't dare hit that
until the landram was running.
   Finally, he saw what seemed to be an ignition button.  With one hand
on what looked like a control stick, he pressed the button with the
other.
   The landram's motor started up, and Taylor felt a rush go through
him as he almost felt as though he were back home in the 20th century
in the garage of his apartment complex starting his car.   It passed
quickly though as he settled back and hit the switch that would open
the shuttle's rear door.
   Sunlight streamed in from the outside and the riders felt the floor
lower so the landram could move out down the ramp.   Taylor wasted no
time pushing the stick forward which caused the landram to move out at
thirty miles per hour.
   Zira glanced behind through the rear window and saw to her amazement
that no other gorillas were stationed outside the shuttle.   Then, five
seconds later, four gorillas emerged from inside the shuttle and
frantically unslung their rifles.
   "We're in luck!" Zira exclaimed.  "They didn't leave any
reinforcements!"
   "We're going to put all the distance we can from them."  Taylor
gritted his teeth as he kept the stick pushed forward.   From behind
they could hear the thud of bullets striking the back end of the
landram, but it had no effect on the thick steel plating.
   "We feel like we're going forty.   If I can get it to fifty they'll
never catch up to us on horseback!"
   "Hurry Taylor!" Zira looked back.  "They're getting mounted."
   Taylor glanced quickly at the console, wondering if there was
anything else that would increase the landram's speed.  He saw one
button marked IM on the stick and decided to see what that meant.
   Abruptly, the landram's forward momentum came to a halt and the
vehicle began to move backwards at the same speed.
   "Taylor!" Zira shouted.
   "Sorry, IB" Taylor frantically looked about wondering what it was
he'd done wrong.   He swung the control stick to the left hoping that
could do something but all it did was turn the landram around so that
it now was going forwards, but in the opposite direction from before.
   "Try it again and maybe we can reverse ourselves!"
   Taylor was about to press the IM button again but as he saw the four
gorilla sergeants getting on their horses, the impulse of another idea
came through his mind.   With a look of pure hatred, the astronaut
pushed the stick forward again so that the landram's speed increased.
   "Taylor, what are you doing?" Zira was bewildered.
   "You'll find out in ten seconds," Taylor said as saw the four
gorillas on horseback drawing closer towards him, but not yet up to
normal speed.  "Brace yourself!"
   At the last second, the gorillas realized what Taylor was doing and
frantically pulled back on the reins of their horses, but it was too
late.  The landram crashed full bore right into the four horses which
sent the gorillas flying through the air.  Two of them slammed off the
front of the windshield and were killed instantly.  Another tumbled
into the field grass and before he had a chance to get up was suddenly
trampled by one of the wounded horses.  The final one crashed into the
side of the shuttle and collapsed unconscious to the ground.
   The landram, sustaining only several major dents in the front from
the impact of slamming into the four horses, continued on.
   "Brilliant!" Zira exclaimed.  "You took care of all of them!"  
   "Human ingenuity isn't dead."  Taylor wished he had a cigar to smoke
in triumph as he hit the IM button and then swung the landram around so
that it was headed away from the shuttle again, and putting
considerable distance between themselves and Ape City.
   He looked back at Nova, who had kept the crying Eve secure in her
arms despite the force of the collision.  For the first time in a long
while, his wife was smiling at him.
   "Safe, Nova." he said.  "We're safe now."
   She slowly nodded her head, and for the first time said the
word,"Safe."


   "Commander," Omega's tone had become slightly grim.  "Captain
Starbuck reports that they can't keep all of the Cylons contained.  At
least twelve fighters have broken through the lines."
   Apollo slowly exhaled, "Omega, tell all category level one ships in
the Fleet to get their astrums out of there.   Have them assume
position in back of one of the other outer planets.  Maybe that'll give
them some extra cover."
   "Which means that you're allowing more passenger ships to bear the
brunt," Sheba noted with irony, since she too had been forced into the
same decision during the last Cylon attack.
   "Well, we never figured out how to make them go as fast as the Agro
Ship and the Celestra and all the other level one ships, so that can't
be helped." Apollo didn't look at his wife.  His attention was still
focused on when he'd finally hear the message he was waiting to hear
from Boomer go through his headset.
   "Commander, the freighter Gemon reports three sustained hits. 
Already serious casualties reported." the communications officer looked
up.
   Apollo clenched his fist and felt his patience running out. 
"Boomer?" he activated the button on his headset.
   "Ten more centons, Commander."  Boomer was determined not to let his
exasperation over Apollo's constant demands for updates show.
   "By then, we'll probably have lost five ships and five thousand
people!" he snapped.
   "Commander, if this wiring isn't precise the whole fracking thing
will blow up when you try to launch it."  Boomer retorted in a totally
neutral tone.  "I don't think you want that to happen."
   "No," Apollo sighed.  "No, I don't."
   "Commander," the communications officer signaled him again, his
expression one of blank horror.  "We just lost the Gemon."
   For an instant, it seemed as though all activity and emotion on the
bridge had come to a halt.  On the face of every technician and officer
there was only the look of disbelieving stupor that after all these
yahrens, a major human loss such as this had been inflicted on them. 
All of them knew that losing the Gemon meant that more than 2000 people
had just died. 
   As Apollo looked about the bridge he could already sense that the
morale was slipping fast and the sense of despair starting to creep in. 
 He had to get that halted, fast.
   "Helm, bring us to full attack speed!" he came over to the railing
and barked.  "Plot new course aimed directly at those baseships!"
   At first, Sheba was taken aback by the order but then she realized
what he was thinking.
   "It'll take ten centons at least to lure them in back of Ganymede so
why bother to hold back, right?"
   "Exactly," her husband nodded.  "And if we make a run at them, maybe
they'll panic and recall part of their fighter contingent.  At least
enough so our vipers can get them off the Fleet's back." 


   "The latest?" Baltar's voice remained largely detached as he entered
the Command Center.  Right away, Lucifer felt slightly glad that Baltar
had decided to leave his throne room.  That was more reminiscent of the
old Baltar and not this freak of cyborg technology that the traitor had
become.
   "The results led to what you expected," the IL said, "Our fighters
have pierced the viper defense wall and successfully destroyed two
ships in the Fleet including one large passenger freighter."
   Baltar stared at him and then smirked faintly.  "Lucifer, by your
tone, I suspect that you are about to spring a surprise on me that I
had not anticipated, no doubt in the vain hope that it will somehow
leave me caught off-guard and rattled.   If you have unexpected news to
report, you will be candid and forthright immediately." 
   The IL's slight gladness abruptly evaporated.  Was there nothing
Baltar couldn't divine anymore about him?  That was by far the most
maddening thing about Baltar to him.  There was nothing Lucifer could
do to undercut him, and what was worse, Baltar knew that Lucifer
realized it and relished it greatly.
   "Very well," he said, "It would seem that the Galactica is moving to
attack speed, evidently on a course to intercept us."
   The traitor raised an eyebrow and went over to the navigation board. 
 Then, he began to slowly laugh that malevolent chuckle.
   "Ah, my dear friend Adama, or Apollo, whichever of you it is now. 
Your situation is deteriorating, and now you undertake this act of
desperation.  So be it.  If it is a fight you desire, I shall grant you
the last request."
   "But Baltar!"  Lucifer protested, "You said the Galactica was not to
be destroyed."
   "What would you have me do, Lucifer?" Baltar turned back to him and
said coolly, "Sit back and lower our defenses in the face of a head-on
attack?"
   "You are violating the policy you personally forced the Imperious
Leader to accede to.   To wait until Earth was discovered."
   Baltar began to laugh with an almost maniacal edge.
   "Lucifer, Lucifer, are your circuits that much out of date that your
brilliant second brain can no longer comprehend the obvious?"
   For the first time, the IL was completely at a loss for words.
   "Why would the Galactica suddenly decide to take us head on?" Baltar
tapped his metallic hand against the navigation board.  "Because they
now have a desperate reason for feeling they must confront us.   They
have found Earth!   It's there!" he banged his hand against the screen
harder.  "They have found Earth and they now feel the need to take us
on because they have no choice. That is the only scenario that would
compel Adama or his son to act aggressively."
   "It....is certainly possible," Lucifer felt all the fight gone from
him.
   "Not possible, my old friend," Baltar said, "It is a high
probability.  And once we have finally disposed of the Galactica and
her pitiful Fleet, a scan of this solar system will reveal to us the
last human colony of mankind and the final end to this war."
   The end of the war, the IL thought glumly.  And from there, Baltar
would no doubt bring the task force back to Cylon as the conquering
hero.  The greatest commander in the history of the Cylon Empire.  And
what made it worse from the IL's standpoint, was that Baltar was going
to get anything he asked for from that point forward.   Twenty-five
yahrens ago, the end of the war would have resulted in Baltar's
execution as the last human.   But not now.  Not when Baltar had
transformed himself into this freakish hybrid of human and Cylon that
if anything demonstrated a superior instinct than a three-brained
Imperious Leader Cylon might.   No, the Imperious Leader might well
decide to abdicate in favor of Baltar by that point.   And in all
likelihood, one might see the next generation of Cylons constructed
along the lines that Baltar had become.   A whole Empire of Cylons,
just like Baltar was now.
   Now, for the very first time in his forty yahrens of robotic
existence, Lucifer began to contemplate things that went entirely
against the grain of his programming.


   "Commander," Omega's tone remained grim.  "So far, no indications
that any of the Cylon fighters are breaking off and headed back to the
baseships."
   Apollo resisted the urge to slam his fist against the railing.
   "We just have to let the Fleet ride it out," he said, keeping his
voice at a command level.  "When we get rid of the baseships, then we
can move back in."
   "Intercept to baseships, 200 microns and counting."
   "Initiate on-line sequence for all missile banks except Alpha-Omega
missile," Apollo ordered, "We may need to take a couple of shots at
them first with our heaviest ammunition before we spring our trap." he
took a breath and without turning to face her said to Sheba, "Order
battle stations."
   "Battle stations!" the executive officer commanded.  "Seal all
compartments!  All fire and damage control teams assume ready
positions."


   "Starbuck, I read two headed for the agro ship."  Boxey radioed.
   "Can you get them both?"
   "Not sure, I'll know in a micron." he paused to fire his lasers. 
"Got one of them.  The other one looks like it's going into a suicide
hit pattern!"
   "We can't let that happen!  Any viper near sector five, get in there
fast!"
   "Blue Leader this is Green Leader, on my way," Jolly said as he
banked his viper into a sharp descending arc that would cut down on the
distance to the agro ship.
   "Jolly, you're putting yourself in his line of fire!" Boxey warned.
   "He's not going to have time to get off a shot, especially if he's
already in a suicide hit mode!" Green Leader's voice rose as he then
reversed his course just ten kilometers shy of the agro ship and began
heading back in the opposite direction toward the incoming Cylon
fighter.
   Jolly's viper was within microns of colliding with the fighter when
he finally opened fire and took out the Cylon craft, speeding on
through the exploding wake.
   "All right, Jolly!" Starbuck whooped, "I knew you wouldn't want to
see the agro ship go up!"
   "In spite of my diet, I'm still their best customer." Green Leader
returned the gallows humor.
   "Next group is bearing down on freighter Borallus," Boxey jumped in.
   "Here's our chance to finally make the Nomen population appreciate
us for a change." Starbuck went into a banking motion. "Got him on the
left!"
   "And on the right!" Boxey opened fire, and then cursed inwardly as
his shot and missed and the Cylon fighter abruptly slowed down and
caused Boxey to fly over him and thus put him in position for the Cylon
to take him out.
   "Starbuck!" an edge of panic entered the young lieutenant's voice.
   "Hang on," Starbuck banked again and put himself in line for the
more difficult lateral shot.  "Hang onB"
   The Cylon fighter managed to get one shot off.  Boxey could see the
blue streaks sail directly over his cockpit, indicating that one more
shot would likely find it's target.   He was about to scream the word
hurry, when finally a reassuring streak of red from his left slammed
directly into the pursuing Cylon, destroying it.
   Boxey let out a sigh of relief as he came back alongside Blue
Leader.  "Thanks."
   "Anytime," a centon ago, Starbuck might have ordinarily grinned
reassurance but the seriousness of the situation was starting to take
it's toll on him so he didn't.
   "Red Leader to Blue Leader," this from Cree, "Eight Cylons bearing
down on freighter Nebulae.   Already inflicting heavy damage.  She's on
the verge of going."
   Starbuck checked his scanner and winced.  He could see the column
swarming on a passenger freighter that housed at least five hundred
people and already with the loss of the Gemon, the death toll was much
higher than anyone had anticipated.
   "Red Leader," Starbuck said calmly, "If She's about to go there's no
good you can do back there.   Have your squadron give protective cover
to all withdrawing level one ships until they're tucked away in back of
that planet with the rings.   All remaining squadrons will handle the
Cylons here."
   "Copy Blue Leader," Cree said glumly as he activated his turbo and
left the burning freighter behind him.   A micron later, the mid-sized
passenger ship had exploded.


   "One hundred microns and closing to baseships."
   "Prepare all forward laser batteries," Apollo's voice had grown
slightly hushed as he stood perched over Omega's shoulder.  "Open fire
at fifty microns."
   On the screen, they could see the three baseships coming into view,
each one looking foreboding.   Each one with the capacity to destroy
the Galactica.
   "Starboard two missile bank ready for firing."
   "Standby starboard missile two on my signal." Apollo said. "We won't
use that until we bloody them up a bit."
   "Seventy microns and closing....Commander they're picking up speed
to meet us!"
   "Fire laser batteries!"
   The first streaks of red emanated from the battlestar and slammed
into the lower center of the baseship closest to them. A micron later,
the blue streaks of return fire struck the battlestar.


   "Is there anything more we need to explore here?" the technician
Malek absently inquired.
   "Probably not," Hera glanced at Rollins and Cornelius, "Unless the
two of you think we should explore the complex further."
   "I'm afraid I've lost the desire to look any further, Lieutenant,"
Rollins said, repeating his earlier error.  "The sooner we get out of
here the better."
   "As an archeologist, I would naturally love to stay for days if I
could, but in this instance I'm willing to postpone a more thorough
search until the situation is more stabilized."  Cornelius said.
   "Okay," Hera popped the EJECT button on the machine and pulled the
video tape out.  She then placed it on the table next to the original
note of instructions.
   As she moved toward the door, she then noticed that the med-tech
Lycus was still standing at the far end of the room holding a sheet of
paper.
   "Lycus?" the blonde ensign impatiently motioned.
   "Oh..." the med-tech shook his head, "Sorry, Ensign.  I was just
looking at this."
   "What is it?"
   "I can't tell.  The writing doesn't mean anything to me."
   "Colonel Rollins?"  Hera motioned to the astronaut, "Could you take
a look at that, please?"
   Rollins let out a sigh of detached resignation as he went over to
Lycus who handed the sheet of paper to him.   As soon as the astronaut
read it, he abruptly dropped it to the floor.
   "Son of a bitch," he whispered, "Son of a bitch."
   "Colonel?" Hera frowned, "What's wrong?"
   Rollins shook his head and wondered how many more surprises he was
in for. "This note is written in Russian," he said, "And it's dated
five years after General Tower recorded the tape we watched."


   Upon their return to Ape City, the delegation to the Galactica found
themselves immediately placed in the cells ordinarily reserved for
humans in Zira's lab.   With a smug air, General Ursus had several
gorillas lock the cells, and then the deposed leaders were alone.
   "And so we now find ourselves in an unthinkable predicament,"
Claudius said aloud as he paced back and forth in his cell.
   "I would not consider it unthinkable, Mr, President," Honorius said,
as he stood at the back end of the same cell, "We might have displayed
better foresight before our departure to the Galactica."
   The Ape President stopped pacing and smiled crookedly at the
Minister of Justice, "Quite true, Honorius.  I could have immediately
ordered Ursus and Sylvan placed under arrest and made a more forceful
speech to the Assembly than I did when Commander Apollo addressed them. 
 But...." he shook his head in bitter irony, "There was one part of me
that wanted to guard against the likelihood that circumstances would
change."
   From the cell opposite them, Dr. Milo came up and placed his hands
on the bars, "Mr. President, are you saying that under the right
circumstances you would have done exactly what Zaius and the others
have?"
   Claudius sighed, "I will only say that I would have.... considered
the possibility, Milo."
   "Spoken like a true member of the Ruling Class!" Milo snorted,
"Ethics and morality don't mean a thing to you.   It's always
opportunism when it comes to orangutan thought!"
   "Dr. Milo," Honorius almost seethed, "Antagonizing us with your
prejudices isn't going to do you any good."
   "How worse can it get?"  The chimpanzee scientist retorted.
   Before the Justice Minister could reply, the President had placed a
hand on his arm, and shook his head no.
   "Milo," Claudius said, "You're right.  I am the supreme pragmatist. 
I don't believe in the need for ethics to guide my thinking and that's
exactly why I didn't hesitate to first agree to war following the
rampage, and then to reverse that when I accepted Commander Apollo's
offer.  I have always felt that leaders can only be guided by the
natural course of events to make their decisions." he paused, "Now, I
have just seen the folly of that thinking in that it led me to be much
too passive.  Stronger action was needed against Ursus, Sylvan and
Zaius before we left and now I see all too clear the ugly harvest
that's been reaped as a result of my inaction at the time."
   "What does this all mean, Mr. President?" Honorius asked, "What do
we do?"
   "I have no answer to the second question, Honorius," Claudius said
sadly.  "But as to the first, I fear that we are looking at a civil war
among Apes as the only way out of our predicament.  In order for some
of Ape civilization to survive, the Lawgiver's greatest commandment
must not merely be revoked for the traitors but must be smashed for
eternity.  Ape must kill Ape or else the humans will kill all Apes in
revenge."  He paused to reflect further, "And in so doing, we
demonstrate once and for all that our claims to be superior to humans
is a fraud.  That we too, possess the same capacity for barbarism that
afflicted mankind so long ago."
   The Justice Minister nodded, "I agree with you, Mr. President. 
Speaking for myself, I give you my word that I shall not beg for mercy
from Ursus and his contemptible lot." he then turned back to Milo and
glared at the chimpanzee, "Integrity does exist within our ranks, my
dear Milo."
   Milo placed his hands on the bars of his cell and faintly smirked in
irony at the two orangutans.  "That reassures me greatly, my dear
Honorius."


   The moon expedition team had now left Port Kennedy empty and
abandoned again as the entry hatch was sealed and the party made its
way across the lunar surface toward the waiting shuttle.  For the last
hour, there had been considerable conversation over what they had found
and what it ultimately meant.
   "It's an interesting theory," Rollins said as he walked alongside
Hera.  For the first time, the astronaut's anguish had subsided and
been replaced by a burning curiosity. "From what you've told me, it
would seem that the ultimate answer to the Magellan III is already
known."
   "We would need to do more research on it."  Hera noted as she
reached the base of the shuttle and activated the hatch that opened it
up.  "I believe the star chart is the key to confirming everything.  
When we return to the Galactica, we can run a check with our own star
navigation computers."
   "Begging your pardon, Ensign," Malek spoke up, "Do you think it's
safe yet to return to the Galactica?"
   Hera turned around in the entryway, "We'll find out once we're off
the surface, Malek.  If She's still engaged, we'll stand by and return
to either here or Earth in the meantime."
   The five humans and one chimpanzee entered the shuttle and after the
hatch was closed, discarded their EVA suits.  As soon as Hera had hers
off, she went back to the forward compartment.  As she approached the
control panel and settled into the pilot's seat, she frowned when she
noticed a red light blinking on the panel.
   "What's our plan, Hera?" Rollins casually inquired as he entered the
compartment.
   Hera didn't respond at first.  Her hand was under her chin, staring
at the blinking light.
   "Hera?" Rollins repeated as Cornelius entered the compartment.
   "Something's not right," the blonde ensign spoke evenly, "We're
getting an automatic distress beacon coming from Earth."
   "Distress beacon?" Cornelius frowned as he settled into the forward
passenger seat.  "From what?"
   Hera turned around and looked the chimpanzee in the eye.  "From the
shuttle that took your government's delegation back to Earth."
   Cornelius's brow furrowed, "But why would they need toC" he then
stopped as a sick realization came over him.  "Good Lord.  Zira!" 
   The Galactica warrior nodded.  "I think we know where we should go
next, since I doubt very much the Galactica has time to deal with this
right now."
   Nothing more was said as Hera flicked the switches and the shuttle
took off, leaving the moon behind and headed now towards Earth.


   The force of two laser blasts from the lead two Cylon baseships
slammed directly into the Galactica and caused both Apollo and Sheba to
grab the rail of the upper level in order to steady themselves.
   "Serious damage reported in Gamma Section three," one of the bridge
officers reported with concern.
   "Commander, I recommend we start luring them to Ganymede now!" Omega
was feeling so much inner tension that for one of the few times in his
life, he showed signs of losing his composure.
   "Increase forward laser power on first baseship and standby
starboard missile two," Apollo ignored the senior bridge officer.
"Stand by to fire on my signal."
   The Bridge shook again as another blast hit the battlestar.
   "Commander!" Apollo suddenly heard Boomer's agitated voice going
through his headset.  "I've got it rigged up but if you don't use it
soon, a few more hits from those Cylons are going to wipe out all of
the rigging and force us to start over again!"
   "Thank you Boomer!" Apollo exclaimed, and then called down to Omega,
"Fire starboard missile two and set emergency light speed course for
Ganymede as soon as She's away!"
   "Firing missile!" Omega felt his voice rising as he pressed the
button.
   As soon as the missile was away, the battlestar lurched to the left
and went to its maximum speed for the next three minutes.   They were
gone even before the missile impacted on the upper right hand side of
the lead Cylon baseship.


   "Our lead baseship has suffered serious damage from one missile hit,
but can still maneuver," Lucifer reported.
   "They fired one missile and then ran?" Baltar looked sourly at the
navigation board.  "What a futile, wasted effort.   Even had the
missile destroyed the lead baseship we would still outgun them."
   "By your command," the gold plated command centurion said as he came
up to the two of them.  "Scanners now show the Galactica has come out
of light speed and has assumed position near a satellite orbiting the
largest planet in this system."
   "Transfer scan to the navigation board," Baltar said.
   As soon as the data was there, Baltar looked at it and his lip
curled in a faint smirk.  
   "The die is cast," he said. "In a few centons it will all be over. 
Inform the Fleet to assume new course heading.  And for good measure,
recall all fighters so that they may take part in the final destruction
of the last battlestar."

                    Chapter Twenty One

   "Assuming standard orbit around Ganymede."  Sheba reported as the
Galactica emerged from it's brief light speed jaunt.   Inside, the
executive officer wished she could reach out and squeeze her husband's
hand for some reassurance.  But for now, that was a luxury she knew
that neither she nor Apollo could afford.   
   "Keep us exposed so they know where we are," Apollo kept his eyes
locked on the main viewing screen.   "As soon as they close in, plot
heading inside the upper atmosphere so we can draw them in.  Then we
launch the sucker and hit escape velocity with all thrusters going."
   "Commander," Omega looked up, his expression haggard, "Scanners now
indicate the attacking Cylon fighters have disengaged from the Fleet
and are headed back toward our position."
   Apollo cocked his head up and then marched back to the navigation
board.  "Will they reach us before the baseships do?"  He absently
folded his hands behind his back.
   "Indications are that they'll arrive two to three centons ahead of
the baseships.  Current ETA, ninety microns and closing."
   "Commander, we can't run the risk of those fighters inflicting any
damage that will affect our ability to get the Alpha-Omega missile
launched."  Sheba noted.
   Apollo kept his eyes on the board for a split second before he
turned around.
   "Take evasive action to keep them clear of us until those baseships
get here." he ordered.  "But try to do it without leaving the vicinity
of Ganymede."
   "That's a tall order, Commander since this satellite isn't that big
to begin with!"  Omega protested.
   "Do it!" Apollo raised his voice to an authorative bark.
   The Bridge Officer took a breath and nodded as he went back to his
station.


   After driving the landram more than fifteen miles away from the
shuttle into the areas where the jungle started to give way to the
desert, Taylor finally managed to bring the vehicle to a stop.
   "I think we'd better stop and take a breather for now," Taylor said
as he unhitched himself.   "Maybe get some food and water outside.  
The lagoon I found when I first made my way here should be nearby."
   "And then?"  Zira inquired, as she remained in her seat.
   Taylor leaned over Nova and exchanged some reassuring glaces with
his wife and child. "I wish I knew the answer to that, Zira."
   "I wish you'd come up with one," the chimpanzee folded her arms. "I
don't like the idea of running from this, Taylor.   Not when there's so
much at stake going on back in Ape City.  For all we know, poor
Claudius, Milo and Honorius could be in jail or even executed by this
point."
   "I know, I know," the astronaut impatiently waved his hand.  "Let me
think a minute.  I need some time to clear my head."  He opened the
side door and then stepped out into the sunshine to stretch his cramped
limbs.
   As Taylor looked back over the rolling meadow and field that led
back to Ape City, he felt the conflicting emotions that had been going
through his heart and soul for the last six months filling him again.  
The near brush with death at the hands of the Apes had once again
aroused the cynical side of Taylor.  The side of him that wanted to say
to Hell with the Apes and the Colonials and just go off someplace where
he could be alone with his family and live out his life in peace.   The
side of him that had made him a misanthrope in the 20th Century and
made him unwilling to be a part of any society where war and death
always seemed the norm.
   He wondered if he wouldn't have already given in to that instinct
and kept riding the landram to the nearest jungle beyond the Forbidden
Zone, if he didn't have the awkward problem of Zira.   He knew he had
no right to let his cynicism impact her life.   He couldn't take her
along to the private haven he yearned for, for himself and Nova, and he
also couldn't cut her loose.   Not after what Zira had done for him,
when she had in effect saved his life after he'd been first captured by
the Apes, in what now seemed like an eternity ago to Taylor, as distant
as the 20th Century now was to him.
   If not for the sake of the Colonials then, then for Zira's sake, he
knew what he had to do.
   "Zira," he stuck his head inside the landram.  "As soon as I gather
some fruit and some water, we'll turn this thing around and head back
to the shuttle.  We'll stay locked tight inside the landram in case we
need to make a run again."
   "What do we do when we get there?" the chimpanzee asked.
   "We wait," he sighed, "We wait for the Colonials to come.  If that
distress beacon I set off works, then they'll come there first.   We
can't do anything against Sylvan and Ursus ourselves.  But once they
arrive they should come up with an effective counter-strategy." he then
paused, "The only caveat is that the Colonials will have their own
problem with those Cylons dealt with.   If they don't...." he refused
to go any further.
   Zira slowly nodded, "I understand.  If that turns out to be the
case, I'll defer to your judgment then."


   "I have good news," General Ursus said with malevolent satisfaction
as he entered the lab and moved up to the cell where the Ape President
and Justice Minister were interred.   Behind him were two gorilla
sergeants.  "Your trial is to begin within the hour.  But quite unlike
the kinds of trials either of you ever presided over or argued in front
of.   This one shall be in front of the entire Assembly.   They shall
decide your fate."
   Claudius came up to the bars and stared at him with contempt. 
Before he summoned a response, the corner of his eye then noticed
another figure at the other end of the room, standing in the doorway.  
He then turned away from the gorilla general and said, "Tell me, Dr.
Zaius, is it your intention to now stand in Ursus's shadow for the rest
of your life?   I never thought you were the kind who enjoyed being a
yes-ape for gorilla thinking."
   He saw the Chief Scientist flinch, and felt a level of satisfaction
that he had at least struck a blow in sticking the needle in Zaius.
   "I think even Dr. Zaius would agree that it is better to have a
gorilla who believes in the principles of Ape Law than it is to have an
orangutan who believes in Human Domination."   Ursus didn't let up.  
He then motioned to the sergeants to unlock the cage.  "Escort them to
the Assembly."
   As the sergeants unlocked the cage, Ursus went over to the one on
the other side of the room where Milo watched, his expression matching
the gorilla general's.
   "Your trial will come later, my dear Dr. Milo," he said, "This at
least gives you more time to consider the error of your ways and join
forces with the sensible thinking chimpanzees like Professor Sylvan."
   Milo decided to save the latest invectives boiling inside him for
later.  Instead, he let out a disgusted snort and went back to the
other side of his cell so he could be as far away as he possibly could
from Ursus.


   "Enemy fighters, thirty microns and closing."
   "Orbital status?" Apollo sharply inquired.
   "Maintaining arc five hundred kilometers above."
   "Keep us right there, and standby to take us in."  Apollo moved back
to the other side of the upper level so he could look at the main
screen.  "Positive shield.   Keep all compartments sealed.  Stand by on
Alpha-Omega battery."
   "Alpha-Omega battery is now on-line and ready to be fired."  Omega
replied.   An edge of serenity had now crept into the bridge officer's
tone.   A sense that one way or the other there would be finality, and
that there was no way of avoiding it.  That the status quo of the last
twenty five yahrens since fleeing the Colonies was truly coming to a
close.
   The same sense of serenity had come over Sheba as well, as she
watched from her position on the upper level.  At the very least, she
no longer felt any reason to feel a sense of terror or tension.
   "Ten microns and closing."  She spoke up.
   "All laser turrets stand by to fire."
   "Standing by."
   "Fire!" Apollo barked.
   As the swarms of Cylon fighters fell on the battlestar, her many
laser turrets fired their red streaks of laser back with an imprecise,
wild intensity.   Given the large numbers, there was no time for the
ordinary kind of precision firing the turret operators would have
employed.   All that mattered was making it as difficult as possible
for the incoming fighters to score any hit that would render useless,
the last best plan Apollo had to save the remnants of a once proud and
great civilization.
   But the fighters descending on the Galactica at that particular
micron represented the greatest concentration of ships the battlestar
had faced in so many yahrens, that not even the thick wall of rapid
fire from her turrets could keep her shielded completely.
   "Gamma section three compartment breached!" one of the duty officers
shouted after the force of two hits shook the bridge.
   "Fire in Beta bay!   Extensive!" another reported.
   "Assume new course heading, five degrees port back toward Ganymede!"
Apollo barked.  "Make them pursue us!"
   "Commander!" this from Omega, "Clear hit to our emergency thrusters
indicated.  We might not be able to reach emergency light speed!"
   Sheba darted her head toward Apollo.  "If we can't make emergency
light speed after launching our missile...."
   Her husband nodded grimly and clamped his hands on the railing.  
"What's the indicator show, Omega?  Is it gone completely?"
   The senior bridge officer looked back at the readout.  "Can't tell
sir. Just indications of a hit.   We'd need to have a team on the spot
look at it thoroughly."
   "Which we don't have time to do." Sheba moved up alongside Apollo,
"Commander, irregardless of whether it's functional or not, we can't
deviate from our attack plan!"
   Apollo nodded, "I agree.   Whether the Galactica survives or not is
no longer the important issue.   What is important is destroying these
baseships."
   "Got them on scanner now!" one of the other duty officers shouted. 
"ETA in ten microns!"
   "Swing us back around to meet them head on!" Apollo barked.  "Then
fire forward laser burst, and execute hundred and eighty degree turn
back into the atmosphere!"
   As the battlestar came round again, another massive blast from the
Cylon fighters shook the bridge.   Apollo could hear Boomer's frantic
voice in his earpiece, before the force of the blast knocked it off his
head.   He had to bend down, pick it up and hastily clamp it back in
place.
   "Commander, one more hit like that and you might as well force us to
start all over again with the rewiring!"  The chief technician pulled
no punches.
   "There won't be one more like that, Boomer," Apollo said, channeling
all the determination he could summon to his outer emotions.  "Two more
centons and this will be over."


   "They are initiating an attack run again!" Lucifer exclaimed with
surprise as he and Baltar watched things unfold on a monitor that
displayed an external image from a videocom located outside the
basestar's hull.
   For the first time, Baltar was frowning in disbelief.  "He must be
mad!  It's total suicide at this point.  He knows he's outnumbered and
outgunned."
   One burst of laser fire then struck their baseship and caused a
slight rumbling throughout the bridge.
   "This has gone on long enough," Baltar said as he drew closer to the
monitor.  "Prepare all missile banks for firing at point blank range.  
Instruct the commanders of our sister ships to drop back.  This final
kill shall be administered by me personally."
   Lucifer's bulbous head turned back to Baltar, giving the impression
of staring at him.
   If the IL Cylon possessed a human brain, a physician would have said
that at this point his mind snapped completely.  Snapped from endless
yahrens of humiliation, subjugation, wounded ego, bruised feelings, and
now the ultimate humiliation in seeing the one creature he despised
above all others in the universe at the peak of his powers.   About to
change the course of Cylon history forever by doing what all other
Cylons before had failed in doing.  Exterminating the last traces of
humanity.   And with that, insuring that all future generations of
Cylons would be modeled after him.   In short, it would mean a race of
freaks just like Baltar controlling the entire known universe.
   The one outcome Lucifer could not permit, even at the cost of
betraying his solemn oath.
   "No, my dear Baltar." he finally spoke with measured calm.  "If
there is to be any final kill today, it will not be administered by
you."
   Abruptly, Lucifer unsheathed from under the folds of his enormous
red robe a Cylon battle sword.   For yahrens he had carried it
concealed whenever he conversed with Baltar, always fantasizing in his
mind about using it against the half man, half cyborg who had forced
him into an eternity's worth of humiliations.   Preventing him from
fulfilling his destiny as a true Commander and leader of Cylons.  
Preventing him from fulfilling the dream he'd once had to be the
Imperious Leader himself.   Practicality had always told him that the
fantasy could never be indulged in.   But now, the circuits in his two
computer brains had overloaded completely and now channeled themselves
toward a single thought.  The thought that Baltar had to be done away
with at long last, just as he should have been done away with, twenty
five long yahrens ago.
   In a split instant after he unsheathed the sword, he raised it high
and slammed it against the side of Baltar's neck.   In an earlier time,
it would have been a fatal blow.   But this was one part of Baltar's
body that had long ceased to be mere flesh and blood.  Instead, the
blow merely caused a gash in the superficial skin, exposing the
cybernetic devices housed underneath.
   Caught by surprise, Baltar stumbled back, his hand instinctively
clutching the side of his neck.  As soon as he regained his balance he
saw Lucifer draw up his sword again, and begin to charge toward him.
   The IL Cylon had raised it high into the air again when the blasts
from five centurion laser pistols in each corner of the Command Center
struck Lucifer on all sides.   Lucifer staggered slightly as he dropped
the sword before crashing to the floor in a motionless pile of dead
machinery.
   Stunned, Baltar straightened the folds of his tunic and towered over
the destroyed form of Lucifer, shaking his head in a mixture of
disbelief and contempt.   Then, with a rising tide of anger over the
sudden betrayal, he gave the pile of scrap metal a savage kick.  Not
once, but twice.   And then...he saw the intact form of Lucifer's head. 
For a split instant, Baltar almost thought he saw the head light up one
last time.  Lighting up to form a mocking smile.
   Another savage kick from his metal boot abruptly smashed the head in
two pieces, sending them both clattering across the floor.
   "By your command!" the gold command centurion finally spoke up.
   "Yes?!" Baltar turned around and demanded in the highest, angriest
tone of voice he had ever summoned in his life.
   "The Galactica has executed a one hundred eighty degree turn and has
entered the outer atmosphere of this satellite."
   "Pursue them!"  Baltar shouted as he moved back to the console. 
"All ships pursue them and prepare all missile banks!"

   
   "What in Hades happened there?" Apollo's eyes widened as he glanced
at the rear scanner.  "Two of them fell back and the lead one just
seemed to come to a stop after we began our reverse."
   "I don't know why," Sheba shook her head, equally amazed.  "But
thank the Lords for it, because it's given us time to get clear of them
and force them to follow us into the atmosphere."
   "Entered outer atmosphere, Commander.   Altitude, now three hundred
kilometers above surface level."
   "Oxygen readout at this level?"
   Sheba glanced at the console.  "Insufficient level at this
altitude."
   "Take us down to twenty kilometers and then maneuver us back into
firing position."
   "Yes sir!"  Sheba turned and barked, "Maneuver us to twenty
kilometers above the surface."
   "It's putting a strain on our hull to go this far inside an
atmosphere, this fast, Commander!" Omega warned.  "We're liable to tear
ourselves apart from the g-factor!"
   "Don't give me anymore safety warnings, Omega!" Apollo retorted. 
"None of them matter anymore."
   As the battlestar dropped lower and lower into the atmosphere of the
Jovian satellite, everyone on the bridge could feel a shaking sensation
as the gravitational pull of Ganymede exerted a strain on the Galactica
not felt in more than thirty yahrens, since her last journey inside a
planetary atmosphere of any kind.
   "Gamma section breach now extends to Delta section!" the panicked
junior duty officer shouted.  "Commander, we're literally ripping
ourselves apart!"
   "Apollo!" the commander heard Boomer's voice screaming in his ear,
"The main firing relay to the missile is already on the verge of
snapping!  Why it hasn't gone already, I have no idea but if you
don't---"
   "Shut up Boomer!" Apollo didn't want to hear anymore warnings about
how the plan he had invested so much in, might be all for naught. 
"Just make sure your men are safe and secure."
   "Leveling off at twenty kilometers above surface." Sheba allowed the
air of serenity to return to her.  "Assuming firing position.  ETA to
baseship arrival....fifty microns."
   "Stand by," Apollo's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "Stand by
on both Alpha-Omega missile and emergency thrusters."


   "She has stopped again.   Twenty kilometers above the surface."
   Baltar, still shaken by the events of a centon ago, shook his head
in disbelief. "Apollo's probably been murdered and some idiot junior
officer or Council member is probably running things from there now.  
There's no rationality to it at all!"  He then slowly took a calm
breath.  "Stand by all missiles.   Inform the other commanders they may
do likewise and share in this high honor in Cylon history too."
   "Missiles on-line," the command centurion said.  "Sixty microns to
firing range."


   "Thirty microns." Sheba's voice was devoid of all emotion.  Now, an
eerie hush had seemingly come over the bridge as every pair of eyes
watched out the main viewing screen, where the swirling mists of
Ganymede's atmosphere filled their vision.
   "Raise nose up to fifty degree angle to prepare for emergency
thrust." Apollo said quietly.  "Stand by on my signal."
   "Twenty microns."
   Omega felt himself sweating so heavily as he raised his finger above
the missile control firing button, he almost wondered if it would cause
a short circuit in his headset.
   "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.   MARK!"
Sheba suddenly raised her voice.
   "Fire Alpha-Omega missile!" Apollo shouted.
   Omega's finger came down on the green button located on his console. 
 In an instant there was a jolt through the bridge as the reconfigured
missile emerged from the starboard side of the battlestar.
   The Alpha-Omega Bomb, built in the year AD 1970 by the United States
government as the ultimate bluff; stored for forty five years in an
underground silo at Plattsburgh Air Force Base in upstate New York, and
then for nineteen hundred years after that as an object of worship in
St. Patrick's Cathedral by the race of mutants, had now in the year AD
3979 and the Colonial yahren 7373 finally been put to use. 
   "Emergency thrusters now!"
   The battlestar began to climb out of the atmosphere of Ganymede.


   "They have fired one missile at us."
   "Evasive action." Baltar showed no sign of panic, "Make certain
we're clear of it before we move in."
   "It should pass well beyond us."
   "Good," Baltar felt his impatience rising.  "If that one pathetic
shot is all that they're capable of, they deserve to suffer more before
we finally dispose of them."
   "They are now rising.  They show signs of headed for emergency light
speed."
   "So now they play this game of run and hide, and then when cornered
try to evade again."  The traitor almost spat. "I will make them grovel
and beg for mercy before I am finished with them!"
   The command centurion was looking at his scanner.  He almost seemed
to freeze up.
   "Well?" Baltar almost felt like reaching out and shoving him.  "What
are you waiting for?  Initiate pursuit!"
   "The missile has detonated ten kilometers below us."
   "I don't care about that, just get us moving!"
   "Atmospheric readings showing signs of disruptC"
   The command centurion never finished his sentence.
   At that precise instance, the Alpha-Omega bomb did what a team of
American scientists had said it would do if ever activated, when the
blueprints had first been drawn up and presented to President Richard
Nixon in 1969.
   The force of the initial explosion would have been devastating
enough to an Earth educated mind.   More than one thousand times the
power of the two bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  Even so,
still not totally beyond the realm of comprehension to a Colonial or
Cylon educated mind.
   But then, the fires of the explosion caught hold of the oxygen rich
atmosphere of Ganymede, and then the Alpha-Omega bomb's lethalness went
into effect.  In an instant, the atmosphere of Ganymede was literally
transformed from a swirling mass of clouds into a raging inferno with a
heat great enough to match the power of the sun.   And with oxygen all
around, the hellish inferno had consumed the atmosphere of the entire
planet within a matter of microns.
   The devastated first baseship, and then the second baseship
disappeared in a blink of an eye as the endless wall of flame above,
below and around them slammed into the insignificant small masses of
the two warships.
   A billionth of a micron after that, the inferno had slammed into the
final baseship.
   In that billionth of a micron, time seemed to slow down to a near
stop for Baltar.  Long enough for his mind to comprehend the meaning of
it all.  Long enough for him to see the flame crash through the wall of
the command center and melt the walls, the floor and all the centurions
in the room.
   Long enough for his entire life to pass before his eyes again. To
see himself as a neglected child who had channeled the unhappy
isolation and loneliness of his youth into a desire to get ahead in
life through whatever means possible.  The desire that had led him to
become an ambitious, but ruthless merchant, acquiring wealth in the
Colonies that any other man would have envied through all kinds of
illegal graft and corruption.   Buying his way into power on the
Council of Twelve as the delegate from Piscera.   Turning him into a
traitor against his people when the opportunity for more power had
seemingly presented itself to him.  And then, in the face of rejection
from Adama in the Tombs of Kobol, channeling it into the hate that had
guided his obsession with finding and destroying the Galactica and
Earth these last twenty five yahrens.
   All of it, as he saw the floor melt and began to feel the burning
sensation on his skin, now melting away into nothingness.  Like all of
his dreams before in his miserable life.
   In that agonizing slowness of time that had seemed to come over for
his benefit alone, he found time to rage with fury one last time
against Adama for having forced him into the path he had trod for the
last twenty five yahrens.   And against the Deity as well for having
made him such a miserable wretch in life.   Never willing to admit even
at the end that it was his own decisions and his own actions that had
brought all this upon him in his life.
   And then, time resumed its normal speed as the jet of flame shot
over Baltar's half-cybernetic body.  The sensation on his skin a mere
prelude to the event that lay ahead for him in the life beyond.

                    Chapter Twenty Two

   "Escape velocity at 80 percent!" Omega had to shout above the roar
as the battlestar climbed its way out of the atmosphere of Ganymede.
"Can't achieve full thrust!"
   As Apollo grabbed hold of the railing on the upper level he could
feel the sluggish sensation of the Galactica's attempt to get clear.
   "Missile has detonated!" the first duty officer shouted at the top
of his lungs.  "Atmosphere of Ganymede is now shooting up to the vapor
point!"
   "Come on, you miserable old girl, move!" the urge to live now filled
Apollo's mind as he banged his fist against the rail, as though it
might coax the five hundred yahren old warship to move any faster.
   The clouds of Ganymede had turned a bright crimson red just as the
Galactica emerged, and saw once again the familiar starlit blackness of
space.
   "Entire atmosphere consumed!" the duty officer went on.  "Satellite
about toC"
   The duty officer's words were cut off as a swarm of Cylon fighters
that had continued to stand by in orbit above the Jovian satellite
suddenly swarmed down on top of the Galactica.   Instantly, there were
two hits to the bridge, sending a shower of sparks from several console
units.   At the far end, one steel support to the ceiling groaned
slightly and buckled halfway so that it was now in a bent shape.
   "Divert all power to thrusters!" Apollo barked.   "Don't even bother
shooting back at them, just keep us moving."
   Another massive jolt.   Both Apollo and Sheba knew that this time it
came not from the Cylon fighters but from what was happening beneath
them.
   "The core's melting!" the duty officer shouted again.  "ETA to final
explosion five microns or less!"
   "Suicide fighters aiming straight at us!" Omega frantically cut in.
   No sooner were the words out of Omega's mouth when the battlestar
finally began to accelerate.   Its sudden burst of speed hastened the
impact time with two Cylons that had gone into a suicide run aimed at
the bridge.
   The forward bridge shield, designed to withstand only the impact of
one suicide hit shattered completely and crumbled.   Then, the
accelerated burst of speed added to the sense of confusion and chaos as
several more steel columns on the bridge twisted and this time
collapsed.   A medium sized fire broke out in the area underneath where
the shield had been.
   Incredibly enough, the battlestar's speed did not slacken in spite
of the damage.   Because of that, the Galactica was clear of the area
where the shockwave of Ganymede's implosion pulverized all in its path. 
 Including all of the remaining Cylon fighters.


   "Starbuck," Boxey's voice had dropped to an almost deathly calm. 
"Do you see it?"
   From behind the orbit of Saturn, Blue Leader could see ahead of him
the fiery orange-red glow just above the massive form of Jupiter.   
   "I see it."  Starbuck nodded.  "My scanner's gone absolutely
haywire.  Indications were that the Galactica and all the baseships and
all the fighters were back there."
   "They used the missile, didn't they?"
   "I'd bet easy odds on that.   Now we have to see if they got clear."
   "I'm not picking up anything I can identify, Starbuck."  Jolly said,
his voice tense.  "There's all kinds of asteroids and meteors kicked up
by that moon exploding.  There's no way to pinpoint anything."
   "Okay all fighters, just stay calm for a centon and let's all catch
our breath."  Starbuck decided to inject a command edge to his voice.  
"We need to hold our position here for now until the situation is
clearer.   Now just keep scanning, and pay attention to any sudden
disturbances that might affect us out here."


   "We should be on the ground in a few centons," Hera said as she kept
her hand firmly on the controls.
   "Any way of contacting them before we arrive?" Cornelius hunched
over her shoulder, his voice filled with anxiety over the possibility
that Zira was in danger.
   "Can't be done," the blonde ensign shook her head.  "We just have to
wait until we're there."
   Just then, a pinging sound registered on the scanner.
   "What's that?" Rollins leaned forward in his seat.
   Hera looked down at her console.  "Something big is coming up behind
us at light speed," she sounded amazed.   "That's big enough to be
the...."
   Before she could finish, the object seemed to slow down on the
scanner.
   "Contact confirmed."  She kept her tone low.  "It's the Galactica.  
She's now in standard orbit back above the moon."  
   "Any sign of anything else?"  Malek and the rest of the support team
got up from their seats.
   "No," Hera shook her head.  "Just the Galactica.  No Cylons, no
baseships.  Nothing else."  She then pressed the red button on the
console.  "Galactica, this is Moon Probe Shuttle.   Status report,
please?"
   There was no response.
   "Galactica, this is Moon Probe Shuttle.  Status report, please?"
Hera repeated.
   Still nothing.
   "There's no reason they shouldn't be able to reply," Lycus said. 
"They're so close to us they don't even have to bother with radio
silence."
   "And if there's no sign of these Cylons, they must have succeeded
with the Alpha-Omega Bomb."  Rollins noted.
   "It doesn't add up," Hera pulled back on the controls.   "I'm going
to have us go back and make visual contact with her."
   Cornelius suddenly grabbed her arm.  "Hera!" the chimpanzee
exclaimed.  "You can't have us leave now.   Not when we need to
investigate what's happened to Zira and the others on Earth!"
   The blonde ensign turned and glared at him.  "Dr. Cornelius," she
said calmly.  "I understand and appreciate your concerns.  But I am not
going to proceed into a potentially dangerous situation on Earth
without checking on the status of what's happened with the Galactica. 
I think you have to concede that in the overall scheme of things, that
is a more important piece of information for us to learn first."
   Cornelius seemed flustered by his inability to come up with a reply. 
Instead, the chimpanzee slouched back into his seat.
   Hera maneuvered the shuttle into a slow turn that would take it away
from Earth and back toward the Moon.  For the next three centons, as
the distance narrowed she kept trying to raise the battlestar and was
still met with silence.
   Then, the battlestar came into visual range.
   "Holy Frack." Lycus was the first to react.
   Never before had the Galactica looked to be in worse shape than it
did now.  Several fires still glowed from various spots along her hull,
while other areas were dotted with blackish scars.   It was the area
around the bridge that caused Hera to wince when she saw quite clearly
the tell-tale scars of suicide hits right where the bridge shield was
located.
   "Galactica this is Moon Shuttle Probe, please give us a status
report on your condition!" Hera grew impatient.
   Finally in exasperation she pulled off her headset.
   Rollins eased forward so he could look through the front windows at
the battlestar.  "Do you think there's anyone on board who could
answer?"
   "It's not like that at all, Colonel," Hera shook her head.  "The
battle obviously knocked out her communications.   I don't even know if
she can tell we're out here or scan us, but my scan shows there's
plenty of life aboard her right now.   The big question is how much
damage around the bridge."
   "So what do we do now?" Malek inquired.  "Bring her in on a blind
landing?"
   "No," Hera said firmly.  "From the looks of it, Beta Bay is clearly
blocked and I wouldn't think of risking a blind landing at this point
in Alpha Bay."  She took a breath.  "We've got no choice but to go back
to Earth and handle this emergency ourselves.  Hopefully by the time we
evaluate the situation down there, we'll be able to talk to the
Galactica and see what we can do next."
   As Hera guided the shuttle back toward Earth, her tight-lipped
expression belied the anxious tension she felt inside about what had
happened to her parents, and to her brother in the recent battle.  
Clearly, the battle itself had been a success or else the Cylons would
be swarming upon them at that very instant.   But had the success come
at the terrible cost of seeing all of her family perish?
   For now though, she had to forget all about that and do what any
warrior in a command position would do in her situation.   And that was
to take some initiative dealing with a potential problem on Earth.


   Apollo felt the sensation of a numbing pain shooting through his
left arm.   It took him almost a centon to realize that it was because
the force of the suicide hit had knocked him off his feet, and then
because he had kept hold of the upper level railing, managed to wrench
his arm in the process.
   Very delicately, he managed to let go of the railing, letting his
arm hang by his side.   "Sheba?"
   "I'm okay," his wife said as he got to her feet.  Like Apollo, the
explosion had knocked her off balance and she had tumbled toward the
other side of the upper level, managing to grab hold of the rail. 
"Probably a bruise or two underneath but nothing else."
   "Thank the Lords," Apollo whispered as he decided to forget about
protocol for one brief micron as he pulled her close to him with his
good arm and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
   Below them, the Bridge was in a state of shambles.   More then
several console units had either exploded or toppled over.   Elsewhere,
several support beams had collapsed.   By far, the worst damage was in
front of the crumbled bridge shield where a small fire still
smouldered.
   "Damage report!" Apollo barked, his eyes darting about for Omega.  
   "Yes sir," Omega groaned slightly as he straightened himself and
felt for his forehead, feeling a large bump and wishing right now that
he were unconscious.  "Internal communications are out.  So is deep
scan.  70 percent emergency power capacity right now."
   "What about structural damage?"
   "Only have partial readings so far.   It does seem that we don't
have any major fires at this time to deal with.   Just seems more like
a question of trying to pick up the pieces for now."
   "Okay," Apollo nodded.  "First priority is to try and jury rig some
way of talking to our vipers.   Tell them to land on Earth or on the
Celestra for now once you make contact with them."
   "Yes sir," Omega winced as he touched his forehead again and lifted
himself out of his chair so he could move over to the other side of the
bridge.
   Apollo almost felt like collapsing as he clutched the railing again. 
 Not knowing at this point whether to feel happy or just relieved.
   "Well," Sheba said as she put her arm on his shoulder, "It worked
and we're still alive.  That's all that matters."
   "Yeah," he managed to nod.  "You're so right about that."  He then
squinted through the viewing screen and ahead could see the blue form
of Earth.   "And now it's finally come to all that.   We've got
ourselves an even bigger challenge to deal with.   Settling our people. 
 Taking charge of all those primitive humans.   Hoping we can get along
with the Apes."  He let out a sigh, "I hope we're up to that task."


   As soon as the landram reached the abandoned shuttle, Taylor managed
to bring the vehicle to a stop.   With that, the vigil began.  A vigil
that was largely silent, save for the occasional cries of the infant
child Eve.   By this point, both Taylor and Zira realized that they had
run out of things to say or speculate to each other.
   The vigil lasted only twenty minutes when they finally saw the sight
of another shuttle landing just one hundred yards away.
   "Hallelujah," Taylor sighed, "The cavalry has arrived."
   The astronaut detached himself from his seat and opened the landram
door.   When he emerged he immediately recognized Rollins, Cornelius
and three other Colonials marching across the field toward him.
   "Hey!" Taylor waved, "We're sure glad to see you!"
   "What happened George?" Rollins called back.
   "Plenty," his fellow astronaut sighed.
   As soon as Zira emerged from the shuttle, Cornelius felt a sense of
relief come over him and he sprinted ahead of Rollins and Hera to meet
the outstretched arms of his wife.   
   "My goodness," Zira caught her breath after Cornelius had embraced
and kissed her.  "You've never been that publicly affectionate before
in all the years we've known each other."
   "This is one of those times that calls for it Zira."  The
archeologist said simply.  He didn't want to think about what he might
have done if Zira hadn't been there, alive and well.
   "Exactly what happened, Colonel?" Hera stepped in front of Rollins
and asked in an authorative tone.
   It took Taylor five minutes to recount all that had happened.  When
he was finished, the expressions on Hera, Rollins and Cornelius were
all grim.
   "That is a problem," Hera folded her arms.   "And it's a problem
that has to be dealt with fast.   If these renegades don't see a quick
response from us about what they face, then that's going to just make
things even worse."
   "Can the Galactica do anything?"
   "Not at the moment." the blonde ensign shook her head.  "She appears
to have won her battle with the Cylons, but she can't respond to any
communications right now, and I don't think she can spare the
manpower."
   "So it's just us then, is that it?" Rollins raised an eyebrow.  "Our
two vehicles against the entire ape population?"
   "We don't know for certain that Ursus and Sylvan have won the entire
population over to their side," Hera pointed out.  "Right now, Ursus
and Sylvan may have just used some intimidation tactics to carry out
their plot while we were away.   Perhaps a small show of force even
from our two landrams might be enough to encourage the intimidated apes
who are in favor of cooperation and peace to turn against the
renegades."
   "Ensign," Malek stepped to the front.  "I'm a maintenance worker, so
is Jakes.  Lycus is a med-tech, and judging from the rest of us, that
leaves you as the only person who knows how to operate a landram
cannon.   With all due respect, I think you're asking just a little too
much of us if you're planning on staging a tactical raid."
   "Point taken, Malek," Hera conceded.  "But we are in a situation now
where all of us have to be willing to rise to the occasion and do what
has to be done."
   "Ensign," Jenks, the other technician stepped forward, holding his
micro-scanner and looking at it with concern.  "I'm picking up a large
number of humanoid contacts headed this way.   Half a kilometer and
closing, ETA in two centons at the rate they're going."
   "Oh great," Hera groaned, "A swarm of primitives.   Just what we
need right now."
   "Hera," Cornelius's tone grew grave, "If there are primitives
clustered together and running, that can mean only one thing.   There's
a hunt going on and there's an army of gorillas trying to round them up
right now or even kill them."
   The memory of the hunt that she and Starbuck and Boxey had been
thrust into the center of just days ago when they had first arrived on
Earth, flashed through Hera's mind.   "Jenks, do you read more targets
behind the humanoids?"
   The technician nodded, "Yes, Ensign.  Large number of lifeforms on
equines pursuing."
   "We've got to move fast," an edge of urgency entered her voice. 
"Malek, you drive this landram.   Jenks, you man the cannon since you
at least have to know how it functions from your basic training.  
Lycus, you'll be driving our landram and I'll man the cannon.   Get it
out now!"
   The technicians scurried toward the parked landram, followed by Zira
and Cornelius who scrambled back inside.   Taylor followed closely too,
not wanting to be away from Nova and Eve at another critical moment.
   "Ensign," Rollins said evenly, "I don't know how that cannon of
yours operates but it seems similar to the anti-aircraft guns used in
my time.  I should be able to help you out on it, if you need it."
   Hera stared at him and wondered for a moment if the Air Force
Colonel was looking for an excuse to get himself killed, in light of
the revelations that had emerged from the tapes at Port Kennedy.
   "Colonel," she said, "If you want to help in a way that you think
can be productive, I welcome it.   But if you're trying to do something
that will----"
   "I do not have a death wish, Ensign!" Rollins angrily cut in.  "As a
matter of fact, I want to live more than anything else right now and
find out if that hunch we discussed is right!   But damn it, I'm a
soldier and I want to contribute in an area where I know I can help!"
   "My apologies," Hera said as she detached her laser pistol and
handed it to the astronaut.  "If you can use this, then you give me
some cover while I use the cannon."
   "With pleasure," Rollins took it and held it in a cocked position.  

   As soon as the landram emerged from their shuttle, Hera dashed up
the side and settled into the gunner's position behind the laser
cannon.   Rollins crouched low beside her, out of the line of direct
fire from the ground, waiting for the moment to pop up and unleash his
own laser fire when he had to.
   Hera hit the intercom that tied her into the landram cockpit.  "You
copying me, Lycus?"
   "I hear you," the med-tech said.  "It's been five yahrens since I
drove one of these things, but I haven't forgotten."
   "Good.  Make sure we're pointed right at the incoming contacts."
   As soon as the landram had swung into position, Hera looked to her
left and saw the second landram at the ready.   She could see Jenks
settled into the gunnery position there.
   "I'll fire the first shot," she called over.  "When I do, you follow
my lead and keep yourself trained entirely on the apes."
   Jenks was on the verge of saying "Yes sir" then caught himself in
time.   He simply nodded back.
   Hera could hear the rumbling of feet and bodies brushing through the
tall grass ahead.   That would be the primitives.  A micron later, they
had come into view.   At least several dozen of them, an equal mixture
of males and females, their eyes filled with terror as they tried to
elude the thundering hoofbeats from behind that signified the ape army
on the move, trying to kill them.   It was a sound that their primitive
minds had long ago been able to decipher the meaning of, and learn how
to fear it at the first sign of it.
   The first wave of primitives had reached the positions where the
landrams lay waiting.  Most of them in their frightened state simply
swarmed past the strange looking vehicles, headed for what they hoped
was the safety of the nearby jungle.   Some others, startled by the
sight, pounded their rough hands against the sides as though they hoped
to find some refuge, and then moved on.
   Hera glanced down at the left side of her landram and saw one male
primitive pounding his hands almost frantically, refusing to move on
like the others before who had similarly pounded against the vehicle.  
His pounding grew so intense that the vehicle shook slightly.
   "Whoa, will you get that guy off us?" Lycus's voice crackled over
the intercom.  "If we get a few more like him, they're liable to tip us
over!"
   The ensign nodded and then shouted down at the primitive.  "Get off! 
 Get away from here or I'll have your fracking head blown off!"  She
was prepared to warn anything human if she possibly could, and only
then tell Rollins to lean over and shoot.
   Hera was about to turn to the Air Force colonel and tell him to fire
when the primitive suddenly looked up, and she could see his face.
   She literally froze in shock when she saw a face framed by a
familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at her.
   "Oh my God," she managed to whisper, oblivious to everything else
around her.
   "Ensign!" she heard Jenks shout from the other landram's gunnery
position.  "The apes! I see them!"
   Hera didn't hear the technician.   She simply could not comprehend
the thought that at this critical micron she would again come face to
face with someone she never expected to see again.   The blue-eyed
primitive who had given her protection at a difficult moment, and with
whom she had sought an afternoon of comfort and refuge with.   The
father of her unborn child.
   At that instant, a wave of guilt and a sense of responsibility came
over Hera.   As the approaching hoofbeats of the apes grew louder, Hera
motioned to Rollins, "Colonel, I need your pistol back!"
   "What?" Rollins looked up in disbelief.
   "Don't ask why, just give it to me!" she motioned again, keeping her
eyes trained on Blue Eyes.   The handsome primitive, his face only
slightly more dirty than it had been days ago, was staring at Hera as
if there were a trace of recognition in his otherwise blank expression.
   As soon as Hera felt the laser pistol inserted in her hand, she
hurriedly put the setting back on stun and fired at Blue Eyes.  He
collapsed by the side of the landram door, totally unconscious but
otherwise unhurt.
   "Lycus!"  Hera hit the intercom as she readjusted the pistol and
handed it back to Rollins.   "Open the door and get the unconscious
primitive lying there inside!"
   "Ensign are you nuts?   That whole army will be on top of us in
about fifteen microns!"
   "Then move it!" Hera shouted into the intercom.  "Now!  That's an
order!"
   A second later, the door swung open and she could see Lycus's arms
extend out, grabbing hold of Blue Eyes by the shoulders and dragging
him inside the vehicle.
   The first shots from the gorilla riders slammed against the inside
of the door before Lycus hurriedly reached back out and managed to get
it shut again.
   Relieved and encouraged, Hera turned back to the scene in front of
her.  She grabbed hold of the laser cannon and with her eyes trained
through the scope, opened fire at the lead group of riders.   As soon
as her first shot was off, Jenks did likewise with his cannon on the
second landram.
   "Advance!"  Hera shouted.  "Drive right through them!"
   The landrams began to move forward, first at a lumbering crawl.  
Several ape riders stopped alongside the vehicle and Hera could see the
gorillas pointing their rifles up, aimed right at her.
   "Cover me!"  Hera shouted.  In an instant, Rollins had popped up and
unleashed a series of shots, each managing to hit the ape riders,
knocking them off their horses.   The Air Force colonel could hear the
whiz of at least one bullet sailing over his head before he managed to
frantically duck down again.
   Hera trained the cannon on the gorilla riders again.   She glanced
over and saw that Jenks was still firing too.   Feeling more confident,
she allowed herself a faint smirk of satisfaction as she tightened her
grip on the cannon controls.
   Two centons later, it was over.   All of the gorilla riders lay
dead, strewn across the field.
   "All right Lycus, bring us to a stop.   Tell Malek to do the same.  
We need to plot our next move."


   In spite of the fact that the battle had been won, the magnitude of
the damage on the bridge and throughout the battlestar left everyone in
a very somber mood.   As Apollo and Sheba moved about the bridge
surveying the damage and the hasty repair efforts, as well as the
efforts to tend to the wounded, there wasn't a hint of jubilation or
relief in either of their expressions.
   "Status?"  Apollo had his arms folded as he stood by Omega.  The
bridge officer was crouched down, trying to work on a damaged console.
   Omega got to his feet.  "So far, we've only got our transponder
signal operating so our vipers can at least home in on us and know
we're still alive.   Still no progress on communications though."
   "Do our running lights along the landing bays still function?"
   "They do," Omega nodded.
   "We'll have to use them to signal our vipers in Colonial standard
code.   Keep using them to blink out a general message that all vipers
low on fuel will land on Earth for now." 


   "I've finally got the Galactica's transponder signal, Starbuck,"
Jolly said.  "She's right above Earth's moon.  Not responding to any
signals though."
   "All right then," Starbuck acknowledged.  "Let's head for home and
see what shape She's in."
   "Starbuck," an edge of concern crept back into Boxey's voice, "We've
got to be careful.   The meteors kicked up from that moon exploding are
pretty thick.   Frack, there are a couple measuring more than a
kilometer in diameter!"
   "Okay, I copy you," the grizzled captain said firmly, "Are they
headed this way toward where the Fleet's tucked away safely?"
   "No," Boxey's voice returned to a calmer tone.  "No, no indications
of that.   But...they are on a trajectory toward the inner planets."
   "Toward Earth?"
   "I can't compute that," Boxey said.  "All I can tell is that they're
headed in that direction."
   "Great," Starbuck sighed, "Okay, all squadrons except Green follow
me on a heading back to the Galactica and we'll take a closer look at
where those meteors are headed.   Jolly, you take Green Squadron back
to the rest of the Fleet and set your vipers down on the Celestra and
some of the other ships for now."
   "Copy, Blue Leader," Jolly said.  "You think we've come out of this
the winners?"
   "So far, at least," Starbuck admitted.  "But I think there are a few
more details left to take care of before the celebrating can begin."


   "Internal communications now coming back, Commander."
   "What about external communications?"
   "Still no progress on that, Commander," Omega shook his head, "We're
standing by with running lights for coded signals in case we make
visual contact with our vipers."
   "All right," the commander went over to his console and picked up
his headset.  "Boomer?"
   After a brief silence he heard a different voice, "This is Fairfax,
Commander," he heard Boomer's deputy speak.  "Dr. Boomer was taken down
to the Life Station ten centons ago."
   "What's his condition?" urgency suddenly shot into his voice.
   "Probably a broken leg.   Nothing life threatening, Commander, it's
just that when we hit escape velocity it knocked him and about a half
dozen of us off our safety harnesses and then the last hit from the
Cylons shorted out all systems here in the missile banks and sent a ton
of flying debris down the corridor."
   "Okay, okay, thanks."  Apollo felt relieved and switched channels. 
"Fire control team, this is Apollo.   Status report?"
   "Fires are under control, Commander," the voice of the veteran Chief
Fireman Jorda replied. "It's just a matter of picking up the debris,
but that's going to be a tall order.   Beta Bay is out of commission
for at least a sectan.   We might be able to do something with Alpha
Bay within a few centars as soon as the fire's out completely."
   "Okay Jorda, do whatever you can.   Keep me advised."  Apollo set
down his headset and exhaled.
   "Boomer's okay?" Sheba asked quietly.
   "Hurt bad like a lot of us I suppose, but he made it," her husband
smiled weakly.   "I think we're all going to have a lot of scars from
this last battle."
   "Do you think it really was the last battle?"  Sheba's gaze went to
the viewing screen.  "Those baseships weren't the only ones the Cylons
have in their Empire.   They have to send out a new task force someday,
don't they?"
   "It would take them at least a few yahrens at top speed to get a new
task force to this distant edge of the galaxy."  Apollo could see the
blue disc of Earth coming into view again.   "And by then....we'll
hopefully be able to face them again."
   "With more of those Alpha-Omega bombs?"
   "There's supposed to be two more of them on Earth.   And we do have
enough data to theoretically build new ones," he sighed, "Not that I'm
looking forward to the thought of having to use them again."
   Sheba absently folded her arms.  "I think that after all we've been
through, we're entitled to another sign from the Ship of Lights about
what our future is."
   Apollo turned back from the viewing screen to face her.
   "The people need to know if our settling on Earth really represents
a new beginning," Sheba went on, "If the fighting is truly over,
whether it's against the Cylons or the....apes.   I don't think there
can be any certainty about that without some kind of direct sign."
   "They might appear to me again," Apollo mused, "But I've learned
from experience that we never have the right to demand anything of them
or God.   We always have to wait upon them for when they feel the time
is right.  And even then, much always remains hidden." he motioned to
the image of Earth.  "They brought me to them so we could know this was
Earth.  But not to tell us that it was an Earth no longer inhabited
with the knowledge the Thirteenth Tribe first brought so long ago.   Or
that it was an Earth now ruled by a different species."
   "We always need to find those things out for ourselves and act
accordingly," Sheba said, "But this time, I think we're owed more from
them.   We need something more definite.   We need to really know what
the right answer is as far as our people's future is concerned."
   "We can pray about it Sheba," Apollo put his arm around her, "But
whether the prayer gets answered or not, we have to keep faith and
accept the answer."
   "So you've told me all these yahrens," she smiled at him.  "I envy
the unquestioning security of your faith, Apollo."
   "I had the best teacher on that," her husband said.
   "I know," Sheba nodded, "And I'm glad you did.   It's been a great
strength to me all these yahrens, and it's the one trait of your
father's that I wish my father had.   It would....have made me feel
easier about acknowledging his death a long time ago."
   Apollo didn't respond to that, knowing how the fate of her father,
Commander Cain, was always a delicate subject with her.  For twenty
four yahrens, there had been no trace of her father or his ship, the
Battlestar Pegasus.   Enough time had now passed for Sheba to
acknowledge the likelihood that he had not survived that engagement
with the Cylon baseships so long ago.   But still not enough time for
her to feel completely at peace about it.   And because Commander Cain
had been anything but a religious man, there was no way she could ever
be completely at peace about it.
   "Let's get back to work," Apollo said gently as they descended the
steps down to the lower level of the bridge.


   "There's Ape City," Rollins pointed to the distant horizon as the
landrams continued moving through the fields.   The stone buildings and
the lake were clearly visible.
   "Lycus, bring us to a stop." Hera radioed.  "Tell Malek to do
likewise.   We need to plot our next move."
   Two minutes later, both landrams had come to a stop and the
passengers inside had all emerged.
   "Ensign Hera," Taylor said calmly as they all met in the center of
the field between the two vehicles, "I sincerely hope you're not
thinking about having us stage a full attack on Ape City with just our
two vehicles."
   "It may come to that Colonel Taylor, if we don't get more
reinforcement from the Galactica at anytime soon.   And right now, we
can't get in touch with them for that reinforcement."
   "But we know that the Galactica can provide all that is necessary to
bring Ursus and Sylvan to their knees!" Zira spoke up.  "Why must we
needlessly rush ourselves into a battle where the odds would almost be
even, given the numbers that they possess?"
   "Ensign, I agree with her," Malek jumped in.  "We're not the best
trained group for this sort of thing.   Sooner or later the Galactica
has to move in with some help for us to deal with the situation.   We
don't have to take on this burden ourselves."
   "I'll take that under advisement, Malek," Hera said.  "For now,
let's stop and catch our breath a bit.   I know I need to think this
out very carefully before I make my final decision."  She ran a hand
through her blonde hair and rubbed the back of her neck, which had
grown stiff.  "Jenks, you keep manning the cannon and warn us if you
see any apes moving in our direction."
   She then went back to her own landram and closed the door behind
her.   Leaving her alone with the unconscious blue-eyed primitive who
lay sprawled across the back seat of the landram.
   Hera stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, wondering why
he'd been thrust back into her life again.   She had always known it
was theoretically possible that if the Colonials planned on taking
charge of all the primitives, then Blue Eyes would be among them.   But
she had rationalized that since he would be one amongst thousands, the
possibility of her seeing him again was remote.
   Just like she had tried to rationalize her afternoon of
gratification with him days ago, she had again been proved wrong by
events.   He was now going to be a constant presence in her life.  
Something she knew she couldn't ignore if she was going to have a clear
conscience about events.
   She heard the door open and turned around to see Taylor standing
outside.  "Can I come in, Ensign?" the astronaut inquired.
   "Come in Colonel," she said.
   As soon as Taylor was inside, he looked down at the primitive.  "Why
did you go to the trouble of taking him aboard?   When we saw that
happening, we were afraid it was going to lead to trouble."
   "Complicated story, Colonel," Hera looked away from him.  "You
couldn't understand."
   "I think I do understand," Taylor said matter of factly.  "You've
met him before, I take."
   "Yes." she said simply.
   "And?"
   "Colonel, I don't want to sound rude, but since you're a stranger to
me, I don't think I should talk to you about this."
   "That's your prerogative," Taylor folded his arms.   "But if you
ever need some advice on it, just remember that my wife is a
primitive."
   Taylor was about to leave when Hera suddenly spoke up.  "Colonel?"
   The astronaut stopped and crawled back into the landram.
   "Colonel," she seemed to struggle with forming a question. 
"Colonel, do you....do you think there's hope to....to make these
primitives....well, to make them intelligent?"
   "I think there is."  The astronaut said gently.  "And I can say that
from personal experience, Ensign.   Thanks to me, my wife can talk. 
She can only speak my name, but that's one more word than this entire
race has probably spoken in centuries."
   She looked him in the eye, but didn't say anything in response. 
Then, she looked back at Blue Eyes, biting the corner of her lip as she
contemplated.
   "Your connection to him is pretty big, isn't it?"  Taylor still
chose his words carefully.
   Hera decided not to mince words.  "I'm carrying his child, Colonel."
   Taylor raised an eyebrow, not expecting to hear that.   After
considering a response, he decided to change the subject.
   "I think we need a decision on our next move, Ensign." the astronaut
said.  "Do we wait, or do we attack?"  He paused.  "I might mention
that my wife and child are in that other landram, and I'm not exactly
keen on the idea of putting them at risk at this point."
   "Point noted, Colonel," Hera drew herself up and suddenly assumed a
military bearing.  "But if we choose to wait, then it can't be for
long.  Our enemies are right now brainwashing the entire ape population
into following their line and we have to act fast or else we'll never
have their support once our enemies are inevitably put down as they
must be."
   Taylor wondered if an on switch had suddenly been thrown, since Hera
had now transformed completely back into the assertive warrior he had
seen before he'd entered the landram.
   "Let's discuss this with everyone else, Ensign," Taylor said.  "I
think they might have some suggestions too."
   "Very well," Hera nodded.  "Give me another few microns and I'll be
out."
   "Give you a few what?"
   "Microns.  You know.  Oh, no you don't," the blonde ensign realized. 
"Ah, I think the term is...."
   "Seconds?"  Taylor offered.
   "I suppose," she shrugged.  "Anyway, that's all I'll be."
   "Okay," the astronaut nodded and stepped out of the landram.
   As soon as she was alone again, Hera looked back at the unconscious
Blue Eyes.   She took an awkward breath and then gently ran her hand
through his thick, disheveled hair.
   "I hope you're not mad at me for standing you up," she whispered. 
"But I'm going to make it all up to you.  I promise."
   Hera then rose and made sure all traces of emotion were gone from
her face before she stepped back out into the sunshine.


   "I'm picking up those big meteors now, Starbuck," Boxey said as his
viper moved past Jupiter. "Whoa, those things are massive."
   "I'm getting them too," Starbuck nodded.  "Scanner indicates about a
couple dozen smaller pieces too."
   "More than that, Starbuck," Cree spoke up.  "Probably hundreds of
meteors big enough to take out a viper if we're not watching
carefully."
   "Adjust your attack computers to handle any meteors that come into
your path and let's see if laser fire can do anything about them."
   "Okay," this from Captain Pliny of Silver Spar, "I've got one right
in front of me.  Hundred metrones in diameter."  He then paused to open
fire.  "I split it in two, Starbuck.  That means we can't atomize
anything that big without a combined assault."
   "That's not a good sign as far as those big suckers are concerned,"
Starbuck gritted his teeth.  "We may need to have the Galactica use
another missile on those to keep them clear of Earth."
   "Well, according to the speed trajectories these meteors are taking,
we've got plenty of time to figure that out," Cree noted.  "They won't
reach the vicinity of Earth for at least a sectan if my computations
are right."
   "Okay then, let's make sure these trajectories are stored in our
data tapes so the Galactica can study them later.   As soon as that's
done, we head for home and see what shape the old girl's in." 
   Suddenly, a fifty meter wide meteor abruptly sailed right over
Starbuck's viper, missing the top of it by only a few feet.
   "Whoa!"  Starbuck was taken aback.  "Hey keep a sharp eye for
smaller meteors that might not show up on the scanner.   They could
take one of us out in an instant."
   "I know what you mean," Boxey said, "I can see a couple of them
about toCHoly Frack!!"
   A sharp crackle went through Starbuck's helmet.   "Boxey?   Boxey!"
   "Starbuck, one of them hit him!" Cree shouted.  "Took out his right
rear flaps completely!"
   "Is he still flying."
   "Barely!" Red Leader replied.  "I've pulled up alongside him.  Yeah,
he's okay but if that thing hit him ten feet further up it would have
landed straight in the cockpit and killed him."
   "Boxey?" Starbuck tried to raise him.  "Boxey?"
   "Starbuck, his comm lines got severed when that thing hit him. 
There's no way he can talk to us or anyone else.   I'll try to do some
visual signals with him.   Okay, he sees me.   Using one hand for
Colonial code signals.   Brilliant Boxey, you remember Intelligence
training beautifully.  He says he can barely keep her stable.   Reduced
speed and power to one-fourth or else the whole thing's liable to shake
apart and disintegrate."
   "Does he still have his scanner functioning to pick up the
Galactica?"
   "Affirmative."  Cree kept his eyes fixed on Boxey's cockpit where he
could see the young lieutenant gesticulating vigorously in Colonial
code signals with one hand.   "He's locked on course."
   "Okay," Starbuck tried to relax a bit.  "Cree, stay with him until
he makes it back.   The rest of us will move on ahead.  I think we're
clear of the rest of these meteors for now."
   "Will do, Starbuck."  Cree said.  "I'm not letting him out of my
sight.   I'll keep relaying what he has to say to the Galactica and
they can make emergency landing preparations."
   As Starbuck hit his turbo and the rest of the vipers streaked ahead,
he found himself wondering why yet another cruel joke had been dealt
again, with Boxey surviving the battle with the Cylons, only to see his
life put in jeopardy again as a byproduct of the thing that had likely
beaten the Cylons.


   "Have you made your decision?" Taylor asked as Hera made her way out
to the area between the two landrams.
   "Yes," she said firmly.  "We're going to move in and take the
initiative.   We can't afford to let this thing fester and let Ursus
have more time to buy off the rest of the population."
   "And how do you define moving in?" Cornelius inquired with great
skepticism.
   "Cornelius," Hera stepped toward the chimpanzee, "If you were in
Ursus' position, what would you have done with Claudius and the
others?"
   The archeologist furrowed his brow.  "You're asking me to think like
a gorilla would?"
   "Or Sylvan's then!" Hera snapped.  "He's a chimpanzee so never mind
that!   What would you do?"
   Cornelius glanced toward the distant buildings of Ape City.  "I
would probably have placed them in custody pending a public show trial
before the entire population."
   "And where would they likely be imprisoned?"
   "Difficult to say," Cornelius shrugged.  "They could easily put them
in the cages where the gorillas usually round up humans after a hunt.  
Or in Zira's laboratory.   Or----"
   "Ensign, someone's coming!" Jenks shouted from his position on top
of the second landram.
   "Who?"  Hera pulled out her laser pistol.
   "Just one ape.   That's all, can't make out anyone else."
   The rest of the Colonials, along with Rollins pulled out their laser
pistols and held them at a ready position, as they waited.
   "Lucius!"  Zira suddenly shouted as the lone ape came into view. 
"Don't shoot, that's my nephew!"
   The humans promptly lowered their weapons as the teenaged chimpanzee
sprinted across the field toward his aunt.
   "Zira, thank the Lawgiver!" Lucius was out of breath, as he threw
his arms around her in relief.  "It's a madhouse back there.   I had to
get away!"
   "Lucius, what's happening there?" Zira asked as she let go of her
nephew.  "We know Ursus and Sylvan have taken control, but what are
they doing now?"
   "Claudius and Honorius are up before the Assembly now, going through
a show trial accusing them of treason." Lucius still hadn't caught his
breath after all his running. "They're going to vote to condemn them to
the death as the first apes to die under Ape Law.  I...I was watching
it with the other chimpanzees and it was insane!   They were all
applauding and cheering along with the gorillas and the orangutans.  
They're believing everything they're saying about them and how we need
to make Ape City an armed fortress against the humans from now on."
   Hera glanced back at Taylor.   "There can be no room for doubt about
the need to take action now, Colonel.   We need to save Claudius and
Honorius."
   "Agreed," Taylor nodded.  "Is the trial still going on, Lucius?"
   Lucius glanced at Taylor and blinked twice, as he recognized him.
"Taylor!   I haven't seen you sinceC"
   "I know, I know, never mind that.   How much longer is the trial
supposed to last?"
   "Probably at least another hour or so.   Ursus and Sylvan are having
all the Apes denounce Claudius and Honorius if they want to.   Then,
they get tied up to a statue of the Lawgiver and will face a firing
squad."
   "Then let's get moving.   Cornelius, you and Zira will have to
direct the drivers to where the Assembly is so we can make our dramatic
entrance."
   "Definitely," Cornelius nodded, and then hesitated for an instant. 
"And I think it might be a good idea if I were visible when we do
arrive.  I need to be seen by the rest of the Apes so they can hear one
of their own telling them why they must not let this happen."
   "Cornelius!" Zira grabbed his arm.  "You can't!  They'll open fire
at you!"
   "I have to Zira," her husband said gravely.   "If they only see
humans riding on top of these vehicles, it's only going to reinforce
all of that propaganda Ursus and Sylvan are filling their minds with.  
I have to be seen or else the cause we believe in will be lost.   And
our entire civilization will be doomed."
   "ButC" Zira protested and then realized she couldn't say anything
that would change his mind.   And she also knew that he was right.
   "Cornelius," Hera stepped forward.  "You ride on my landram with
Colonel Rollins and me.   We'll make sure you're protected."
   "Thank you," the archeologist nodded.
   "Let's get moving fast."
   The cluster of people and apes broke up and retreated to the two
landrams.   Within sixty seconds, both vehicles had started up and were
moving across the grass toward the buildings of Ape City.


   "I've got visual contact with the Galactica."  Pliny said as he
moved into the lead of the returning vipers.  "Oh boy, she looks in bad
shape."
   The scarred warship was now visible to Starbuck.  "You're right,
Pliny," the grizzled captain said.  "But at least She's still there."
   Blue Leader then squinted.  "Oh great.  Her communications are out
completely.   She's using running lights to signal us."
   "Beta Bay damaged.   Alpha Bay inaccessible for next several centars
at least."  Pliny read the signal aloud.  "All vipers to land on Earth
until further notice after we restore communications."
   "Well, I guess we head for Earth then, andC" Starbuck abruptly
stopped as a horrifying realization came over him.
   "Starbuck?" one of the other pilots asked.  "What's wrong?"
   "Boxey." he whispered.  "There's no way he can set that viper down
on Earth in the shape it's in.   With the rear flaps gone he can't
subject that ship to an atmosphere or else it'll rip him apart.   He's
got to land on the Galactica!"
   An eerie silence suddenly filled the rest of the pilots.  They all
knew what was at stake for the Commander's son and what it would mean
if he failed to survive as a result of the weapon his father had
utilized to win the battle.
   "Starbuck," Pliny said matter of factly.  "There's nothing we can do
to tell them that.   They can talk to us with the running lights, but
we don't have anything like that ourselves that we can respond with."
   "I know that."  Starbuck wanted to slam his fist against the top of
his canopy.  "Frack, felgercarb and shit!"
   "It's out of our hands, Starbuck," Pliny emphasized.   "There's
nothing we can do.   We've got to head for Earth."
   Blue Leader craned his neck behind him.  "I'm going back to escort
him in."
   "You already left Cree for that, Captain!" Pliny raised his voice. 
"I can't let you do that.   It wouldn't serve a purpose at this point."
   "Pliny, I'll decide what----"
   "Captain!" this from a young flight sergeant in Red Squadron.  "I'm
picking up a distress beacon from Earth."
   "What?" Starbuck's face twisted and then he looked down at his
instrument panel.   "Oh for the love of.....what now?"
   "Captain, you can't go back.  Boxey's being attended to, and this is
something that the Galactica evidently knows nothing about.   We have
to investigate that distress signal."  Pliny bore in.
   Starbuck glanced over at Silver Spar Leader's viper, and realized
that if Pliny weren't a warrior of the younger generation, he never
would have talked so forcefully to him.   Someone from the Old Guard
like Jolly wouldn't have dared challenge him on this point.
   Reluctantly, Blue Leader continued with the rest of the vipers
toward the looming form of the shining blue planet called Earth.   

                    Chapter Twenty Three

   "No Ape can dare to claim that he represents the interests of our
civilization, if that comes as a consequence of making us puppets of
the lowest forms of animal ever created!"  
   The young orangutan of eighteen, who had just spoken those words now
moved in front of the statue of the Lawgiver where Claudius and
Honorius were both tied to at the front of the Assembly Amphitheater.  
There was pure contempt on his face as he angrily shook his fist in
front of the two deposed leaders.
   "You both bring shame to the entire orangutan class!"  the young
orangutan went on.  "For scum like the both of you, the Lawgiver's most
sacred edict can not possibly be upheld!"
   As he moved away from the platforms, thunderous cheers and applause
erupted from the spectators gathered in both the Assembly seats, and in
the spectators gallery above where the orangutans, chimpanzees and
gorillas were segregated by their usual seating assignments.  This
represented the twentieth such denunciation of both the President and
Justice Minister in the last hour ever since they had both been hauled
in front of the population for their show trial.   And through it all,
both Ursus and Sylvan sat off to one side of the proscenium with
triumphant, smug expressions, while next to them Dr. Zaius only seemed
reasonably satisfied.
   "An eloquently expressed testimonial, my young friend," Ursus rose. 
"Who shall now add their voices to the eloquent truths spoken up to
now?"
   A middle aged chimpanzee got to his feet.  "I shall speak next."
   Sylvan craned his head up and smiled as he recognized a familiar
face.   "Ah, Dr. Galen.   It shall be a pleasure to hear your voice on
this great occasion.   Step down to the proscenium and let yourself be
heard."
   The chimpanzee physician who had worked for many years with Zira in
her research work on humans, calmly stepped down from the gallery and
then came up to the proscenium.   Like the previous twenty, he began by
going up to Claudius and Honorius, as though he planned to speak
forcefully and directly to them.
   But to the amazement of every one in the gallery, Galen instead
turned back to face the audience.
   "My words are not directed against our esteemed President and
Minister of Justice."  He began.  "Instead, I direct them to all of you
present to ask, why in the name of the Lawgiver and all decency have
you sacrificed reason and common sense to follow these lunatics and
traitors?" he then gestured toward Ursus, Sylvan and Zaius.
   A gasp went up from the crowd followed by some angry shouts and
epithets.   General Ursus motioned toward two gorilla sergeants, but
Sylvan grabbed his arm.
   "No," the chimpanzee scholar said.  "Let him talk and hang himself
with his words."
   The gorilla general nodded and motioned the sergeants to stay.
   "It was only but a day ago that Commander Apollo, the human
representative stood here in this very chamber and talked not of
subjugation or conquest, but of friendship!   Did you all not have ears
then?   Did his words sound like that of someone determined to make us
slaves at his behest?"
   As Galen unleashed his angry words, his head was darting around to
all corners of the Assembly, trying to see any sign of recognition or
awareness from the audience of gorillas, orangutans and chimpanzees.  
But so far all he saw were largely hostile expressions, with a few
neutral ones mixed in.
   He then fixed his attention on Ursus, Sylvan and Zaius.  "When it
comes to those who really wish to make us slaves, I say look no further
to those within our own race, and not to any outsiders!"
   A howl of jeers went up from one section of the crowd.
   "Yes!" Galen shouted above the din as he gestured with his arm
toward the three of them.  "They wish to enslave us in a police state
where there is no peace.   Where apes will do nothing but serve the
interests of hate, corruption and war!   Where the sacred teachings of
the Lawgiver that gave us the right to consider ourselves superior to
humans will be smashed for eternity!   And for what?   Even if we were
to succeed in driving these so-called 'Colonials' away, do any of you
think that for one minute that these power-mad lunatics will bring us
any real peace, and real stability?   No!   You all know of the
prejudice that has existed in our own ranks all these centuries between
gorillas and orangutans, and orangutans and chimpanzees, and
chimpanzees and gorillas.   Sooner or later, one of those lunatics will
inevitably break this convenient troika and plunge us into war amongst
ourselves!   And we will have made that possible by sanctioning the
killing of ape, as they insist we do today!"
   Some of the militant gorillas began pointing and waving their arms,
shouting "OFF!  OFF!  OFF!  OFF!"  The chant was picked up by some of
the orangutans too.   But as Galen's eyes locked onto the chimpanzee
section, he noticed that more of them were quietly sitting on their
hands, saying nothing.   And at least one-third of the orangutans were
doing likewise.
   Right away, the three renegade leaders noticed that the
denunciations of Galen were anything but unanimous among the
spectators.  Concerned, General Ursus leaned to Sylvan, "I think he's
said enough."
   "I concur," the chimpanzee nodded.  "Dr. Zaius?"
   The Chief Scientist had visibly flinched when Galen had mentioned
the age-old prejudices among ape factions again, and now he found
himself staring at both Sylvan and Ursus with an edge of uncertainty.
   Sylvan noticed it right away.  "Are you losing your nerve again, Dr.
Zaius?"
   The elderly orangutan said nothing.   The conflict he felt within
himself over whether he hated humans more than he hated the prospect of
a gorilla dominated ape civilization, was raging inside him again.  
For days his emotions had been tugged back and forth between his
greatest prejudices.   Now, he was feeling that painful tug again, and
for Zaius it could not have possibly come at a worse time.
   Sylvan shook his head in disgust and motioned to the gorilla
sergeants standing behind him.  "Take him to the lab and throw him in
the same cell with his friend Milo."
   The two sergeants had just taken their first steps when suddenly a
loud voice boomed and echoed throughout the chamber, "HEAR ME, FELLOW
APES!"
   All of the heads in the Assembly and in the galleries darted around
to see the two landrams moving rapidly toward them.   On top of the
lead one, was the familiar face of Cornelius.
   The shackled Claudius glanced over to Honorius and said, "This could
be the opportunity we've been waiting for."
   "Let us hope," the Justice Minister nodded, wincing slightly as he
felt his shackles digging in to his furry wrists.
   The lead landram moved past the galleries on the downward slope that
led straight to the area in between the Assembly seats and the
proscenium stage where Galen, Honorius and Claudius remained.   The
chimpanzee physician's mouth hung open in amazement and relief.
   "Fellow Apes!"  Cornelius was standing on top of the landram, facing
the crowd.  "In the name of all decency, in the name of all the
principles we hold dear to us.   Cease this barbarous show trial and
cease this foolish support of those who seek to destroy us!" he
gestured to his right, where a stunned Ursus, Sylvan and Zaius sat.
   "You've always been a human lover, Cornelius!" one gorilla shouted. 
"You and your miserable wife."
   Cornelius felt the urge to retort with a characteristic slur about
gorillas and their lack of intelligence.  But he knew that his
prejudice against gorillas needed to be put aside if he was to appeal
to Ape Unity.  "And what is to be gained by following these lunatics
but your own destruction?"  He went on and then glared at the troika. 
"You have exactly one minute to free both the President and the
Minister of Justice, or else it will be done by force."
   Ursus looked smugly at Cornelius and rose from his seat.  "So at
long last, you've lost your pacifist instincts in the name of defending
traitors, Cornelius.   How noble of you."
   "You are the traitor, Ursus.   You and everyone else," he looked
back to the galleries, which largely seemed intimidated into silence by
the sudden arrival of the landrams and their mighty guns pointed in
their direction, "who would dare to let blind hatred and prejudice be
the guideposts of our society.  These humans do not seek to subjugate
us with their superior weapons!   They wish to live in a state of
peaceful co-existence, where both of us can be free to chart our own
destinies, and to share ideas and knowledge that can benefit us both!  
Why is that not an easy concept for any of you?   Because of some
misguided appeal to pride?"
   "OFF!  OFF!  OFF!" several gorillas rose from their seats and
shouted.   But this time, their numbers weren't as large as it had been
moments ago while Galen had been speaking.
   At that instant, Hera rose to a standing position alongside
Cornelius.   She glared down at the troika with a cool, determined
expression.
   "General," her tone was also cool and forceful.   "I am going to
free the legal representatives of your government immediately.  If you
so much as make one hostile move to impede that, then the three of you
will be shot on the spot."
   The blonde ensign motioned her arm, and from the top of the second
landram, Rollins and Taylor got to their feet with pistols pointed
squarely at the troika.   At the same time, Jenks had the laser cannon
trained squarely on the troika as well, away from the rest of the
audience.
   "Listen to them, Dr. Zaius," Taylor said with contempt. "I think you
know from personal experience that I wouldn't hesitate to use this on
you."
   "Guards!"  Ursus got to his feet.  "Prepare to open fire on them!"
   "Are you guards willing to die and risk war for the sake of these
three traitors?" Cornelius finally decided to seize the moment that he
was convinced would make the greatest impact.  The archeologist then
looked out to the audience.   "Are any of you willing to put your lives
on the line for these three?   And are any of you then willing to lead
all of Ape civilization in a senseless, idiotic war against mankind if
the responsibility passes to one of you instead of these three?"
   For the first time, there was silence from the spectators.   And
Taylor noticed with satisfaction that Dr. Zaius had the expression of
one whose will was fast crumbling.
   "This is not a fight between Ape and Human!" Cornelius went on. 
"This is a fight between power hungry traitors who only think of
themselves, and those who want to see a promising future for Ape
Civilization.   A future where there can be new opportunities to
improve ourselves.   New knowledge.   New technologies.   A productive
relationship with another tribe based on sharing ideas and commerce."
   "You only wish us to become the obedient slaves of human
taskmasters!" Sylvan spat.
   "No, my dear Sylvan, you who make me ashamed of my own class, and
who demonstrate to me how wrong my own prejudices against gorillas and
orangutans have been."  Cornelius retorted.  "You are the ones who wish
to make all Apes the obedient slaves of you three taskmasters!   Where
only the words of Ursus, Sylvan and Zaius reign supreme and no others!"
   "Guards!" Ursus shouted.
   Two of the four gorilla sergeants on both sides of the proscenium
raised their rifles.   But the other two hesitated.
   "Are those three traitors worth dying for?" Taylor decided to speak
again.   Then, he fixed his attention on the Chief Scientist.   "Is
this something you're willing to die for, Dr. Zaius?  You, the great
Chief Defender of the Faith and all that your Great Lawgiver taught you
to uphold?" he accentuated the sarcasm with every syllable.   And he
noticed with satisfaction that Zaius wasn't looking at him any longer,
keeping his head bowed.
   "You have one last chance, Ursus," Hera said in that same calm,
forceful tone.  "Do you release your prisoners, or do we do it
ourselves?"  She paused.  "Is it peaceful coexistence, or is it war?  
A war for which the blood of innocent Apes will all be on your hands
alone."
   "I will never grovel before any human!" Ursus shouted defiantly and
then looked back out to the galleries were almost all of the apes had
been humbled into frozen silence for the last several minutes.  "Do you
want to see Apes grovel before the inferior breed?   Is it not better
to die for principle then live with everlasting shame and humiliation?"
   "What principle are you talking about, General?" Cornelius knew he
needed to keep speaking.  "The principle that Ape is superior to human? 
 That principle, my dear Ursus is rooted in the Lawgiver's command that
Ape must never kill Ape.   Unlike the human beasts of eons ago who
willingly killed their own and brought about their destruction.   But
to break that command as you planned to do with our esteemed President
and Minister of Justice, only illustrate how the same flaws, the same
sickness, infests our own race as surely as it does Man!   Ape is not
superior to Man anymore than Man is superior to Ape!  We are in the
end, the same!   And if we are the same, then there is no shame in
coexisting!"
   "It would seem that Dr. Cornelius has a keener insight into the
teachings of the Lawgiver than does the Chief Defender of the Faith!"
Taylor continued to mock Zaius, enjoying every minute of it.
   Hera calmly climbed down the ladder of the landram and dropped to
the ground, making her way over to the giant statue of the Lawgiver
where Claudius and Honorius were shackled.   An eerie hush had fallen
over the Assembly as all the spectators from the three classes wondered
if someone would pull the trigger and fire on the blonde ensign before
she could release the President and Justice Minister.
   Hera came up alongside Galen, who had been watching everything in
stunned fascination and smiled at the chimpanzee physician.
   "Get inside the vehicle, Dr. Galen," she said, motioning to the
second landram.  "You'll be safe there."
   Galen dimly nodded and made his way over to the landram, where the
passenger door had been opened and he could see Zira beckoning to him
to get inside.
   "On my signal guards, open fire and overwhelm these traitors and
inferior scum!" Ursus raised his arm.   But to his chagrin, he saw that
barely a third of the gorilla soldiers stationed in the wings and in
the galleries had their rifles raised.
   Hera finally reached the statue and pulled out her pistol.  Grabbing
hold of the Ape President's wrist so his shackles were extended, she
pointed her pistol at the metal links and gently applied the lightest
amount of pressure to the trigger.   It cleanly cut through the links
and Claudius's right arm was now free.
   "Fire!"  Ursus shouted.  "Kill them!"
   "No!"  Dr. Zaius suddenly bolted up from his seat and despite his
advanced age, dashed across the stage past the vehicles and up to the
statue where Hera had begun working on Claudius's left wrist shackle.
   Two gorilla sergeants from the right side of the proscenium had
decided to carry out the order.   They opened fire.
   The Chief Scientist had reached Hera and shoved the blonde ensign
away from the statue.  A fraction of a second after Hera had been
pushed aside, the bullets that had been aimed at her struck the elderly
orangutan right in the chest.
   In an instant, Dr. Zaius collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as
blood gushed from a wound in his chest, staining his orange leather
tunic.
   Gasps erupted from everyone in the chamber.   The sergeants who had
fired, promptly lowered their weapons, both taken aback by the turn of
events.
   Even Cornelius was at a loss for words.  The last thing he had
expected to see was Dr. Zaius displaying a conscience.  No less
bewildered were Zira and Galen, too amazed to even close the landram
door.   And on the far left of the proscenium, even Ursus and Sylvan
were too stunned to say anything.
   Taylor finally broke the silence, looking out at the crowds of apes.
"One of your leaders it would seem was not so committed to the idea of
war after all," he said, "Are the rest of you still willing to engage
in a pointless war based on only on hatred?"
   No sooner were the words out of Taylor's mouth, when a noise
familiar to the Colonials filled the air.   Every head in the gallery
looked up, and on the expressions of the Apes was total, stunned
amazement as they saw overhead more than 100 viper craft.
   "The Cavalry has arrived again," Rollins sighed and seemed to relax.
   A nervous anxious chatter erupted among all the apes as they talked
to one another.   They had before seen only the sight of one viper in
the sky, but now they saw numbers that far exceeded anything in their
imaginations.
   Hera calmly went back to Claudius and freed the Ape president from
his remaining shackle.   The orangutan knelt beside the motionless form
of Dr. Zaius and gently patted his head.
   "Thank you my friend," he said, "Whether based on principle or
pragmatism, you died a true patriot."
   Claudius moved in front of the landrams and faced the audience,
gesturing skyward.  "That is what you must be prepared to fight against
if you truly want to wage war against these humans."
   Suddenly, several chimpanzees rose from their section and said in
unison.  "No war."  The chant was then picked up by other chimpanzees
and increased in intensity, finally spreading to the orangutans, and
then, to the amazement of Cornelius to the gorillas.   Ten gorilla
soldiers in their section promptly threw down their rifles.  
   "No war.   No war.  NO WAR!"
   It was finally too much for Ursus to bear.  The gorilla general
bolted from his seat and dashed off away from the Assembly, and away
from Ape City.   By contrast, Sylvan seemed too beaten to even care any
longer.
   Claudius held up a hand to indicate silence.  "Fellow Apes," he
said, "What is needed most at this time is a spirit of unity and a
clean slate as we greet these humans in a spirit of mutual
co-existence, with each free to pursue their own separate paths on this
vast planet.  In that spirit of starting anew in our history, at this
time I grant unto all a full pardon for any offenses I consider made
against the government in this recent crisis.  Prejudice and hate is a
difficult thing to let go of.  Let us merely resolve to let go of that,
to engage in no recriminations, and to not make the mistakes those of
the earlier human generations did that insured their destruction long
ago." he turned to Sylvan.  "You are free to go home, Professor
Sylvan." he said gently.
   The scholar finally rose from his seat and slinked away, losing
himself in the crowd of apes that began to slowly and warily file out
as well.
   Hera almost felt numb with amazement as she freed Honorius from his
shackles.   When she was done, she made her way back to the second
landram where Taylor had descended from the top.
   "Incredible," she shook her head, "We actually did it without firing
a shot."
   "Yes," Taylor nodded, "And to think that Dr. Zaius made it
possible."
   "Why did he do it?" Zira stepped out of the landram, also drawn to
the sight of her long-time adversary.  "I never would have thought----"
she broke off.
   "I know what you mean, Zira," Cornelius said as he came up to them. 
"Maybe he didn't do it because it was the morally right thing.   Maybe
the appeals to the prospect of a gorilla dominated dictatorship made
him change his mind and it was just another mad, pragmatic decision at
the end.   Whatever the case though, it saved us from seeing some
horrible fighting break out."
   "The Lords be praised for that," Hera felt a surge of relief finally
kicking in.
   "Ensign?" Lycus stepped out of the first landram.  "I've made
contact with the vipers.  They're all landing in the fields outside Ape
City for now because the Galactica's landing bays are still too
damaged."
   "Okay, I think we'd better send one landram back to go meet them."
Hera felt her command instincts kicking in again.  "I'll drive this one
back."
   "Do you think it's really all over now, Cornelius?" Zira asked as
Hera got into the landram and started it up.  "Is there really going to
be peace at last?"
   "I think so," her husband nodded.  "I think the shock of seeing Ape
kill Ape, even accidentally has burned its image into every Ape's mind
for eternity.   It was so easy for them to speak of that with bravado
when Claudius and Honorius were on trial, but seeing it happen I think
has made everyone, whether gorilla, orangutan or chimpanzee, see how
horrible the idea is."
   "What about peace between Ape and Man, Cornelius?" Taylor asked. 
"Is that going to last?"
   "For now, I think yes," Cornelius said to his old friend.  "But as
to whether it continues depends in large part on how well we treat
future generations of Ape and Man."
   Taylor glanced back inside the landram where he could see Nova still
cradling Eve.
   "I can tell you this," Taylor said with determination.  "The next
generation is going to learn all the right lessons from me."


   "Commander, we made visual contact with our returning vipers.  All
of them got our signal, because they've clearly diverted to Earth."
   "Good."  Apollo said, "That takes care of one problem.  Any new
report on communications?"
   "About another two centons, and maybe we can begin trying," Omega
said as he rechecked his computations.  "Chief Jorda reports that all
fires are out.   Maintenance repair is now moving in.   ETA on Alpha
Bay at least four to six centars."
   "Casualty report?" Apollo turned to Sheba.
   "Dr. Cassiopeia reports at least twelve dead, eighty-four casualties
currently undergoing treatment.   Boomer's leg has been fused.  Another
several centars and he'll be released."
   "I think we can really start to look on the bright side of things a
lot more now."  Apollo moved back to his chair on the upper level.  
"Once we finish tending to the wounded and getting ourselves
operational again, we can finally proceed with matters on Earth."
   "Commander," Omega called up.  "We're trying external communications
again.  We're picking up one of our trailing vipers."
   "Put it through to me," Apollo put his headset on.
   "----lacticaCCquest-----land-----for-----Box----Viper-----."
   Apollo leaned forward and frowned, not sure if he'd heard his son's
name or not in the garbled message.
   "Attention viper, this is Commander Apollo, your message is garbled. 
 Please repeat."
   "Galactica, this is------.   Request-------landing for------Boxey.  
His-----------."
   "Say again, you are still garbled.   Our communications are only now
coming back.   Please say again."  Apollo felt an edge of tension
returning.
   "Galactica, this is Red Leader." the transmission was now crystal
clear.  "Request emergency landing procedures for Lieutenant Boxey.  
His viper is badly damaged as a result of meteor impact collision.  We
all had to dodge some bad ones after that missile went off."
   Apollo froze and didn't respond at first.
   "Commander?"  Cree's voice sounded impatient.  "Commander, do you
copy?"
   Apollo shook his head, wondering why this had to be dumped on his
lap after all that had happened.  "Red Leader," he said calmly, "Both
landing bays currently inaccessible due to battle damage.  Inform
Lieutenant Boxey to land on Earth."
   "Commander, that is not an option."  Cree said with little tact. 
"His rear flaps are gone and there is no way he can take that viper
through the g-factors of an atmosphere."
   "Can he keep flying another four centars?" 
   There was a brief pause.  "Negative, Commander.   He can only fly it
on a straight heading for another centar.   But at his present speed,
he'll be on approach heading in thirty centons and if he can't land
then he's got no place else to go.   He doesn't have any
maneuverability to turn around if he has to bypass the Galactica."
   Apollo sagged in his chair.  "Very well," he said quietly.  "Tell
him we'll have Alpha Bay ready exactly when he needs it."
   The commander switched the frequency.  "Jorda, what's the status of
clearing Alpha Bay?"
   "We just got started Commander.  At least four centars before it's
clear."
   "You've got exactly thirty centons." he said sharply.   "I don't
care how you do it, just get it cleared now!"
   "Commander!" the Chief Fireman protested.  "You can't be serious!"
   "I am!" he shouted into the microphone so loudly it caused everyone
on the bridge to look up at him.  "Put every Maintenance worker into
it!   I don't care what other jobs they're doing now, just get them
there and move!"
   Five microns passed before Jorda let out an almost caustic, "Yes
sir," in response.
   "Apollo," Sheba put her hand on his shoulder.  "What was all that
about?"
   "Boxey," he didn't look at her.   "Boxey's viper collided with a
meteor.   He needs to land in Alpha Bay or he can't land period."
   "Oh God," she lowered her head and bit her lip.  After only a micron
though, she let her emotional reaction pass.  "Can they get it fixed?"
   "They have to." he said flatly.  "They absolutely have to or
else...." he trailed off and sighed, "Or else I have to live with the
fact that using that missile may have killed him."
   Sheba's expression tightened.   "Apollo," she summoned all the
strength in her voice.  "I don't ever want to hear you say that even if
the worst does happen.   What you did in setting off that missile saved
the lives of this entire Fleet and Earth, and that is the only thing
that counts.   That's exactly what Boxey would say to you, and that's
what everyone else is going to say to you because that's the truth, so
dispense with that tormented thinking right now."
   He finally looked at her and slowly nodded.
   "Cree?" he rose and turned on his headset again.  "Is there any way
I can talk to Boxey?"
   "Negative, Commander.   All of his comm-lines are out.  I'm talking
to him through code hand signals only."
   "He understands the situation, doesn't he?"
   "Yes he does," there was a pause.  "And he says not to worry.  He's
going to make it."  
   Apollo allowed himself a half-smile. "You tell him, I know he is."
he sighed.  "Stay in touch with Major Omega and keep updating Boxey's
status."
   "Affirmative, Commander."
   Apollo set his headset down and looked up at Sheba.
   "Thanks," he said.  "I needed to hear what you said."
   She sat down next to him and took his hand.
   "Let's both start praying as much as we can." his wife said. 
"That's something I want answered even more than finding out what
happens next about our people's future."


   As soon as Starbuck set his viper down in the open field next to the
two empty shuttles, he right away noticed the one landram moving
towards them.
   "I'll guess we'll know what the emergency is soon enough." Starbuck
said.
   Five centons later, Hera had emerged and exchanged a brief hug with
Starbuck.
   "How is it up there?"
   Starbuck decided not to mention what had happened to Boxey first. 
"We won the battle." he said.  "The Cylons are gone.   All of their
baseships blasted to infinity."
   The blonde ensign threw her arms up and let out a happy whoop.
   "You hear that?" she turned around and shouted to Malek and Jenks,
who were both still inside the landram.  "We won!"
   "The Lords be praised!" Malek gave the high five to his fellow
technician.
   "So what was the deal with the distress signal?" Starbuck asked as
several other pilots who'd landed came up to them.
   "All taken care of Starbuck," Hera said with satisfaction.  "We had
to put down a little revolt by some renegades in the Ape government.  
But it's all taken care of."
   The enthusiasm faded from Starbuck's face.
   "They revolted?"
   "I told you it's all taken care of."
   "Wait a centon," Starbuck said, "Are you sure of that?"
   "Of course I'm sure, Starbuck," Hera kept her tone reassuring. 
"It's not going to be a problem anymore."
   The grizzled warrior sighed, "I wish I could be sure of that."
   "Yeah," Captain Pliny spoke up, now that he had joined the group. 
"These are siminoids, for sagan's sake.  How can you be sure they'll
want to act nice from here on?"
   Hera felt a wall of impatience rising inside her.  "Maybe because
some of us aren't afflicted too much by idiotic prejudices, Captain."
   "Hey wait a centon!" Pliny protested.  "Remember who you're talking
to, Ensign!"
   "Yeah I know who I'm talking to," Hera wasn't intimidated.  "I'm
talking to a couple of men who would prefer to let an old prejudice
dictate the way things are.   And that goes for you too, Starbuck."
   "Now wait a micronC" Starbuck started angrily.
   "No, you wait a micron, Starbuck."  Hera didn't care about the
breach of protocol at this point.   She already knew that if her father
were here, he would be saying exactly the same thing, and as far as she
was concerned, Starbuck might as well hear it now.  "If we're going to
live on this planet, we have to co-exist with them.  That means we put
aside any prejudice we have toward them, just like they have to put
theirs toward us aside."
   Starbuck absently shook his head and walked away from her.  Even
now, he still couldn't come to terms with co-existing with Apes.   Not
after what he'd been through, when he'd received more than a taste of
what humans had been forced to endure for so many centuries under Ape
domination.
   "I'm perfectly happy to coexist with them, Ensign," Pliny kept his
tone frosty.  "But I think if we're going to do that, we might as well
watch our backs."
   Starbuck abruptly stopped and realized to his shame that he'd
allowed his anger over the situation to make him forget completely what
he really needed to speak to Hera about.
   "Hera," he came back to her, his tone more gentle.  "Sorry about
that.   There's something else I've got to tell you."


   Even though Chief Fireman Jorda was well into his seventh decade
now, he remained in the prime of condition and still had no intention
of ever retiring from his duties as both Chief Fireman and head of the
Damage Control/Maintenance team.   Only now though, as he directed more
than fifty Maintenance personnel inside the damaged Alpha Landing Bay,
was he finally beginning to think that maybe it was soon time for him
to settle down and retire at long last.   Not since the time
twenty-five yahrens ago when the Galactica had been subjected to
multiple suicide hits from solonite packed fighters could he ever
recall an occasion that had meant more stress than the job Commander
Apollo had just placed in his lap.
   It seemed like an impossible task.  Although the fires had been
extinguished from the landing bay, there remained the problem of a
collapsed bulkhead wall that had fallen across the tarmac surface thus
making it impossible for any viper to land safely.  Without a smooth,
flat surface any ship attempting a landing would automatically be flung
against the side of the bay and run the risk of exploding completely.
   There were other problems too.  The surface remained hot from the
fires that had been extinguished, which didn't make landing conditions
favorable either.   But by far, the forty foot long section of six-inch
thick, steel wall that lay sprawled across the tarmac represented the
main problem.   Compounding it even further was the fact that the
collapsed bulkhead was still attached to the wall at the side and had
not snapped away completely.
   "Get to work on severing it from the main wall completely!" Jorda
motioned as eight maintenance workers took their torches and activated
them, using the flame to burn the collapsed portion away from the
intact portion.
   "Sir?" his deputy, Fireman Sanchez, also a veteran of many yahrens
inquired.  "Once we get it severed, what do we try next?"
   "That, I'm still trying to figure out."  Jorda extended his arms and
began rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the obstacle.   If
they had time, the usual procedure would have been cutting through the
obstruction into numerous small pieces so they could finally be moved
away by hand and small loaders.   It was clear though that even when
the obstruction was severed from the main wall it would still be too
big and heavy to move away even with all 100 Maintenance workers
trying.
   "Let's not think in terms of getting the whole tarmac clear. 
There's no way it can be done."  Jorda kept looking at the obstacle.  
"How much space does a viper need if he doesn't have the entire width
of the bay to work with?"
   Sanchez did a mental calculation.   "About ten feet."
   "Can we cut away ten feet from the center in twenty five centons?"
   The Deputy Fireman shrugged.  "That'll be cutting it close in time,
but I think it's possible."
   "All right then, get everyone else working on it from the center
out.   Try to cut away a ten foot section so we have a partially clear
bay.   And have at least ten men standing by on the boraton tanks for
when that viper arrives.   Even if we get it clear, this could still be
too dangerous."


   Ever since the meteor had struck his viper, Boxey had been sweating
profusely, wondering when his damaged craft was going to shake apart
completely from the strain it was now under with no rear flaps.   So
far, it had held together but with each passing centon, as he felt the
shaking go through his body he felt his faith in his ship steadily
diminishing.
   Only the sight of Cree alongside him, responding to his hand signals
offered any reassurance.   And now Cree was telling him that the
Galactica's landing bays were for the moment, totally inaccessible.  
Denying him his only chance at landing safely.  Earth was out because
of the g-factor.   The Moon was not an option either because he lacked
the maneuverability to get there.
   He already knew that his father had to be going through some kind of
emotional torment over the knowledge that the Alpha-Omega Bomb had
undoubtedly contributed to his current plight, and the one thing Boxey
didn't want to see happen was for his father to feel any anguish over
that.   As far as Boxey was concerned, if any person's error had
contributed to his situation, it was his own for not watching as
carefully as he should have, while flying through the meteors.
   He took his left hand off the control stick so he could signal Cree
again.   Using the elaborate code that he remembered from Intelligence
training, his one hand sent the message: Tell my father, not to worry.
   He could see Cree nod in response and immediately Boxey felt able to
relax for just a brief micron.
   His still operating scanner now showed the Galactica drawing closer. 
 He was on a straight in heading approach that would put him in Alpha
Bay in exactly twenty centons.   And then he'd know.


   "We've started cutting away the main obstruction, Commander," Jorda
said.  "We only have time to clear away a wide enough berth down the
middle.  That's all we can do.   No time to check temperature readings
on the tarmac or anything else."
   "I understand, Jorda," Apollo said calmly.  "Thank you."
   The commander sat back in his chair and wished he could have a stiff
drink to ease his anxiety.


   An air of calm had finally returned to Ape City.   All of the Apes
who had been at the assembly had now dispersed and most everyone else
had resumed their normal daily jobs and responsibilities.   For the
first time in a very long while, it struck Cornelius as normal.  Like
Ape City had been before the arrival of Taylor had changed everything.
   Cornelius turned away from the window and sat down at the table of
his dining area, where Taylor and Rollins were both conversing.
   "Port Kennedy is still functioning," Rollins was saying as he ate
some of the salad Zira had just served.  "And you wouldn't believe the
tapes we found there."
   "What did you find?" his fellow astronaut leaned forward with
interest.
   "The whole history of how the war happened."
   Taylor shook his head slightly.  "Do me a favor, Phil.  Skip that
part.   I don't think I want to know that story, ever."
   "You'll have to find out someday, George."  Rollins said.  "But I'll
save it for another time.  What I did find out is that there was
another group of survivors after the war that made their way to the
moon in another Magellan spacecraft.   And after they left their
message, about a hundred and fifty of them took off to where your
expedition was originally trying to get to."
   "What?" Taylor was amazed.  "You mean these survivors decided to try
for Betelgeuse?"
   "Exactly."  Rollins sighed.  "And not only did they try to get to
Betelgeuse, but I also found evidence that a Soviet team made their way
to the moon after the American one did, and decided to follow their
path."
   "Incredible," Taylor could scarcely believe it.  "You're sure of
that."
   "I'm sure," Rollins pulled the sheet of paper that had been
retrieved from Port Kennedy out of his jumpsuit pocket.   "Read it."
   "I never learned to speak Russian, Phil."
   "But you do recognize the Russian alphabet."
   "Yeah."
   "It says, 'Arrived, 2028 in spacecraft Tolstoy.  Found no survivors
in our own bases, but have read and heard American message of Magellan
III at Port Kennedy.  Will follow their path.'"
   "So what this means then is that some 21st century survivors could
have made it to Betelgeuse?"
   "Well, assuming their Magellan didn't have the same fucked-up
navigational system yours did, they stood a good chance of making it." 
He paused.  "As a matter of fact, Ensign Hera thinks it's possible that
the Colonials encountered proof that they made it there twenty-five
years ago."
   "Huh?" Taylor frowned.  "You mean there are other human colonies out
there besides the people of the Fleet?  I thought all the survivors
were packed up in those ships after their twelve planets were
destroyed."
   "Not 100% of all remaining humans in the universe."  Rollins
finished his salad and took a sip of water.  "You see when the
Colonials began their journey to Earth, they passed a lot of small
outposts in the early stages of the journey.   Those were usually
descendants of expeditions that had first traveled from their home
planets a few centuries earlier.  Same language, culture, customs and
all that.   Then after the first year, they went past the point where
space was charted to them.  Where no Colonial could have ventured to
establish a continuing outpost.  But it was after one year of traveling
that they came across a human civilization that had no knowledge of the
Colonials, and seemingly no connections whatsoever to the Colonial
past.  At first they thought that maybe this was Earth, but they later
found out it wasn't.   Anyway, to make a long story short, Hera thinks
it's possible that this human civilization may very well be descended
from the Magellan III passengers, and those from the Soviet ship too.  
All we need to do is check the star charts in the Galactica's computers
and see if we can match this human civilization to our own star charts
and see if it comes up Betelgeuse on both of them."
   "That is something worth looking into."  Taylor nodded.  "What was
this civilization called?"
   Rollins smiled at his fellow astronaut, "A name that sounds a  lot
like what you might expect Earth survivors to give to a new planet.  
The name of their civilization is Terra."

                    Chapter Twenty Four

   Boxey could feel the sense of vibration increase as his viper moved
past the red orb of Mars on his port side.   He was now ten centons out
from the Galactica and had still received no favorable word from Cree
on the status of the landing bay.
   Come on guys, he aimed his silent thought at the Maintenance team
that he knew was working on the problem.  A sectar's worth of free
drinks from me, if you get that thing clear.
   He glanced over at Cree again who this time was signaling a new
message to him.  They will clear center section of landing bay.  You
have no breathing space to work with once you glide in.
   Thanks he signaled back, wishing he could put a touch of sarcasm
into his hand gesture.
   As he hunched over the control stick to keep his craft as steady as
he could, he became aware for the first time in a long while of the
Council medallion his father had given him in what seemed an eternity
ago when he, Starbuck and Hera had set out on the patrol mission to
find and study Earth.   The medallion that had belonged to his
grandfather for so long.   Ever since the first rude awakening as to
what Earth was like, he had steadily forgotten it, not wanting to
recall how it reminded him of the stories Adama had told him for so
many yahrens about what Earth was like.   Yet in all that time, he had
never bothered to take it off.
   Grandfather, he thought as he touched the medallion with his
fingers, help me get through this.   I want to help make Earth into
what you said it was like.
   Feeling a bit of renewed strength at last, he straightened himself
in his seat and could see in the distance the blinking running lights
of the Galactica poised above the Moon.
   Eight centons left.


   "Jorda?" Apollo had begun pacing back and forth on the upper level,
oblivious now to everything but whether his son was going to make it
back safely.  "Status?"
   "We've broken through the center section of the obstruction,
Commander.   We now have to cut through five feet out on both sides and
then haul those pieces away to give him his landing space."
   "When Omega gives you the signal that he's on an approach, drop
everything you have and make sure you've got all emergency boraton
tanks at the ready."
   "Even if we're not finished?"
   Apollo took a deep breath.  "Yes, Jorda.   Even if you're not
finished."


   As soon as Starbuck told Hera about Boxey's situation, the blonde
ensign felt the urge to immediately commandeer one of the vipers and go
out to assist her brother.   But after one micron of careful
consideration, she realized that wouldn't help the situation at all.  
She knew that at that very instant, her brother was trying to act like
a professional warrior to try and save himself, and it might serve to
unnerve him if he had to see her out there as well watching and
worrying.
   Instead, Hera took the news stoically.  Stopping only to glance at
the ring of her grandmother Ila that Apollo had asked her to wear when
she had gone on the first probe to Earth.   Stopping to rub it in
contemplation, hoping that the Deity her grandparents had honored so
much would be with Boxey at the critical time.
   "We'll know one way or the other soon enough," she said as she
headed back to the landram.   "In the meantime, I suggest you accompany
me back to Ape City so you can see for yourself how different things
are going to be from now on."
   "Very well," Starbuck still didn't like the idea, but at this point
he decided he was too tired to be defiant about anything.  The battle
and the events of the last several days had taken their toll on him.  
Enough that he was determined to finally have a true heartfelt talk
with Cassiopeia when he got back to the Galactica.
   When Hera opened the landram door, Starbuck right away noticed the
unconscious form of the blue-eyed primitive still lying on the
passenger seat.
   "Hera?" he frowned.  "What's he doing here?"
   Hera let out a sigh, "It's my turn to tell you something," she said
as she started the landram up.


   "Come on!" Jorda shouted at the maintenance team as they continued
to cut through the thick steel bulkhead wall that had blocked the
tarmac. "Five centons left, and we haven't even started moving the
pieces away!"
   "They've got to cut through them cleanly before we risk moving them,
sir."  Sanchez pointed out.  "If we move them now, they'll snap into so
many small pieces it'll defeat the whole point of the attempt."
   "I'm aware of that."  The Chief Fireman noted sourly and glanced
back at the ten firemen armed with boraton hoses.  "Standing by?"
   "All pressurized at maximum setting!" one of them responded.
   Jorda turned back to the team working on the obstruction.  The group
five feet right of center had finally finished.
   "Got it!" Fireman Betts shouted.  "Move in the loader for this, it's
too heavy for us to carry out!"
   "Move in first loader!"
   At that instant, a small loader driven by one maintenance worker
moved across the tarmac.   The vehicle had a forklift in its front
section designed to lift heavy equipment.   The loader came to a stop
in front of the five foot long steel section and gently lifted it off
the ground.   So heavy was the debris that the forklift could only move
two feet above the ground instead of it's full height of seven feet.
   "Move out!" Jorda motioned to the loader and then turned back to the
team that had cut away the first section.  "Now start smoothing down
that section so its totally clean!"
   "Three centons." he heard the voice of Omega in his headset.  "We'll
be giving all further readouts in microns."
   Jorda angrily stepped forward to where the second team worked on the
five feet of obstruction to the left of center.   "Haven't you got it
cut through yet?"
   "We were almost through it and then it felt like it was twisted in a
knot at this point, and we couldn't get a clean cut to the bottom any
more." one of them looked up as he kept his torch going.   "We probably
should have started a couple feet further to our left, but it's too
late to start there now."
   "Increase the settings on your torches!"
   "Already at maximum, sir!"
   "One hundred microns."
   Jorda motioned to the first group, that had been smoothing down the
section that had been cleared away.  "Get over here, and use your
torches on this!"
   Five additional workers quickly picked up their torches and ran
over, so they could join in the effort.
   "Eighty microns."
   Jorda glanced out the opening of the landing bay wondering if he
could catch a glimpse of the approaching viper at this point.  The
instant he saw it was the time he knew he had to pull his men back no
matter what.
   "Got through it sir!" Betts finally shouted.
   "Sixty microns."
   "Frack," Jorda muttered.  "Not enough time to get the loader in.  
Everyone move and lift that piece of felgercarb now!"
   "That must weigh nearly a ton sir!"
   "Forget it, just move!"  
   Even with the combined effort of ten maintenance workers, it was
still a struggle to get the enormously thick piece of steel to move
from the ground.   Finally, after considerable effort it began to lift.
   The Chief Fireman himself had joined in the effort.  Feeling the
strain more than anyone else, he gritted his teeth and winced as he
pulled the obstacle back, glancing again out the landing bay opening
and this time feeling his heart skip a beat as he could see the lights
of a ship approaching.
   "Twenty microns."  The edge of tension had now entered Omega's voice
too.
   "Heave it!" Jorda shouted as they all moved into a sideways position
and then summoned their strength to hurl the block of steel as far as
they could.   It landed just three feet further down where the landing
bay tarmac was still blocked by the remaining portion of the obstacle. 
 But now, the ten foot section in the center was clear.
   "Ten microns, nine, eight...."
   Jorda and the rest of the firemen and maintenance workers sprinted
as fast as they could back to the end of the landing bay.   The Chief
Fireman wildly gestured at the men with the boraton tanks.  "Into
position, now!"
   "Five, four, three....."
   All of those in the landing bay now could hear the sound of the
viper approaching as it entered the area twenty feet outside the hull
where the vacuum of space ended and the self-generating pressurized
gravity and atmosphere zone of the battlestar began.
   Each head swung around and saw a viper with it's rear flaps cleanly
severed from the rest of the craft swaying at a bad angle to its right,
it's nose a dangerous five degrees too high enter the landing bay.
   "Oh God," Jorda whispered in horror.  "He's not going to make it."
   The rear struts of the viper touched down on the tarmac fifty feet
from where the obstruction area began.  It lurched violently from it's
bad right angle to the left, which incredibly corrected its path to a
more natural center heading, but still potentially overcompensating to
its left.
   As the viper moved across the tarmac and the sounds of it's brakes
were applied it drew closer and closer to the section that had been
cleared away.   The nose and front struts passed through the cleared
area, barely.
   No sooner did Jorda think the worst had past when the left rear
strut abruptly collided with the obstruction, missing the cleared away
zone by two feet.   
   As soon as Jorda saw the sparks erupt, he shouted, "Boraton!" An
instant later all of the boraton hoses were turned on and flooded the
skidding viper. Because of the collision it now swung to a forty five
degree angle to its right, aiming now for the side of the landing bay
instead of the end.
   But the effect of massively thick jets of boraton foam on the viper
instantly caused it to slow down.   The sparks caused by the skidding
diminished to a trickle.   The nose collided with the right side wall
and crumpled instantly, but since it had collided at a reduced speed
the craft merely let out another jolt before finally coming to a stop. 
 The boraton crew promptly dashed toward the rear engines and applied
their hoses to the one area that still had the potential to explode.
   As they continued to work on it, the foam covered canopy finally
came open.   A dazed and weary Boxey gratefully climbed out and gladly
allowed himself to fall into the thick cushion of boraton below.


   "He made it!" Jorda's excited voice filled the bridge.  "The worst
landing I ever saw in my life, but he made it!"
   The bridge personnel stopped their repair work to applaud while
Apollo and Sheba both embraced and kissed each other on the upper
level.  From their standpoint, all protocol was out the window now. 
   "Okay," Sheba said between kisses, "Now we can really relax and
start with a clean slate."
   "I know," Apollo sighed.  For the first time, the burden seemed to
be off his shoulders at last.   Now, he felt prepared to confront
anything the future had to offer.
   "Omega," he still hadn't pried himself away from Sheba as he looked
down, "Resume normal Maintenance operations immediately."
   "Yes sir," Omega grinned.  "All external communications will be back
in another few centons.   We should be able to talk to the rest of the
Fleet then."
   "Red Leader to Galactica," Apollo heard Cree's voice go through the
bridge.  "I can't tell what happened from out here.  Is Lieutenant
Boxey all right?"
   Apollo adjusted his headset with satisfaction.  "Affirmative Red
Leader.   He made it.  Thanks for the assist."
   "No problem," Cree said.  "Commander, now that that problem's been
taken care of, I ought to tell you that something's got to be done
about a large cluster of meteors kicked up by that moon exploding.   At
least two of them measure a kilometer in diameter and are on a general
course trajectory toward Earth.  ETA not for at least one sectan
though."
   Apollo glanced at Sheba who seemed non-plussed by the information.
   "Doesn't sound like something we can't handle with some concentrated
laser blasts."  The executive officer said.  "As soon as we're finished
with the repairs we can take care of it."
   "Agreed," her husband nodded.  "Red Leader, thanks for the
information.   Proceed to Earth now until landing bays are restored to
full operational status in......four centars.  Pass that information on
to all other pilots on Earth."
   "Affirmative Galactica.   Red Leader now proceeding to Earth."
   "Well," Apollo turned to Sheba as he removed his headset, "Maybe for
the next centar we canC"
   "What is it?" Sheba frowned as he abruptly stopped.
   "Out there," Apollo's gaze was on the viewing screen.  "I thought I
sawC"
   Before he could finish, he and Sheba both saw a white light streak
across the front of the viewing screen, just above the blue disc of the
Earth.
   And then, neither had time to say or do anything else.


   Hera's landram stopped in the Main Square of Ape City, just across
from the house of Cornelius and Zira.  The second landram had been
moved into the area as well, and a number of fascinated apes, led by
the now released Dr. Milo were listening in rapt attention as Jenks and
Malek explained the principles of how the craft operated.
   "I have to be honest, I really admire your willingness to take on
the responsibility he's going to bring to your life," Starbuck was
saying as he and Hera stepped out and reached the door of the house.   
   "Thank you," Hera said.  "I just...felt I had to do it.  Besides,"
she turned around and smiled crookedly.  "He is a rather handsome one
anyway.  I think I could get to like the responsibility a lot."
   The door opened, and Cornelius and Zira stepped out, followed by
Taylor and Rollins.
   "Captain Starbuck," Cornelius's tone was slightly guarded.  "A
pleasure to meet you again."
   Starbuck looked the chimpanzee in the eye and could see the
skepticism that he knew stemmed from Cornelius's earlier experience
with him.   Yet in spite of that, Cornelius was still willing to extend
the hand of friendship because he knew it was something that had to be
done.
   So be it, the grizzled warrior sighed as he took the offered hand
and shook it.
   "I'm glad you're back, Hera," Taylor said.  "Colonel Rollins has
been filling me in on what you discovered on the Moon."
   Before the blonde ensign could reply, the humans and apes all
throughout the square were suddenly distracted by a curious whooshing
sound.
   The heads of every human and ape now darted up into the early
evening sky and could see above them white lights flashing across with
a speed beyond comprehension.
   "What the Hell?" Rollins' mouth hung open.
   Starbuck was the only one though who knew better.  "Wrong question,
Colonel."  He managed to smile before blackness overtook him and
everyone else.


   At first, Apollo had expected that only he would be present as he
saw the familiar surroundings of the Ship of Lights fill his vision. 
But as his eyes readjusted to the brightness, he saw to his amazement
that he was not alone.   To his right, he saw Taylor and Rollins.   To
his left, he saw Claudius, Cornelius and Sylvan. 
   "Commander Apollo!" the first voice he heard was the Ape
President's. "What's happened?  What?"
   "I'm going mad," Sylvan whispered.  "Utterly mad."
   "No, don't worry."  Apollo said reassuringly.  "It's all right. 
We've been brought here I think to learn some very important
information."
   "Quite right, Apollo."
   The Galactica commander looked ahead and saw the familiar robed
figure of John walking toward him.   And then he frowned when he saw
standing next to John, the figure of another being in robes.....Only
this being was an orangutan.
   "The Lawgiver!" Cornelius's voice was filled with awe.  "The
greatest Ape who ever lived."
   The two of them came to a stop in front of Apollo.  They seemed to
look over the awed and bewildered expressions of all who were present
before they finally decided it was time to speak.
   "It may seem unorthodox that we have summoned so many of you for
this occasion," John began, "Since Commander Apollo is already aware
from past experience that we tend to operate more on an individual
basis.   This time however, you are all here to in effect represent the
cross-section of all groups on both Earth and in the Fleet.   In
effect, when this is through the entire population of both humans and
apes will know everything that we shall tell you."
   "About the future?" Apollo asked.  "About whether our two peoples
can live together in peace?"
   "Neither of us can tell you about the future, Commander," the
Lawgiver spoke for the first time.   His voice was rich, deep and
mellow.   "The future is known only to the Creator of all things and
all species.   The most that we can do is to enlighten you about that
which is."
   "I certainly didn't receive that from you the last time, John." 
Apollo noted dryly.
   "Not true, Apollo."  The white-haired Guardian shook his head.  "You
were summoned on the last occasion so you could at the very least know
that this planet you were dealing with was and is, the planet Earth
that you sought for all these yahrens.   Had you encountered this
planet as part of a normal patrol scan, you would never have made the
connection right away as there is nothing left in Earth's archeology to
provide tangible reminders of the Thirteenth Tribe that first settled
there seven thousand yahrens ago."
   "But you left out the detail about how Earth is now....a planet of
the Apes."
   "What would you have done with such knowledge granted to you in
advance?"  John folded his arms.  "You would have bypassed the planet
completely."
   "And never discovered the Alpha-Omega Bomb that made it possible to
dispose of your enemy," the Lawgiver added.
   Apollo lowered his head and felt like chiding himself.   Once again,
it was all so clear to him.   The Hand of Providence acting in ways
that could never be glimpsed until after the fact.
   "I apologize," Apollo said.  "As always, I am grateful for the help
you have given us.   And I am certain we are all prepared to act on
what it is you have to say now."
   John looked out to the crowd.  "Colonel Phillip Rollins.   Colonel
George Taylor.   Please step forward."
   The two men from the 20th Century, with great trepidation came up to
where Apollo was standing.   Both of them visibly trembling.
   "Your presence in this time was long ago pre-ordained."  John said. 
"For only you, as men of the time when humanity last knew greatness on
Earth could provide the key links to the Colonial Civilization of how
they could learn about Earth's history, and more importantly how they
can be prepared to understand information that they could not
understand before."
   "Ummm...." Rollins cleared his throat, not fully aware of how he
should address a man who reminded him of a Sunday School conception of
an angel, except for the lack of wings.   "Ummm, does this have to do
with the....Terran civilization?"
   Apollo's head darted to the two astronauts.
   "You are quite perceptive, Colonel Rollins."  John said.  "To save
time, I will now enlighten Commander Apollo with the information you
learned on the Moon."
   Apollo blinked several times as he felt a shower of light seemingly
pass over his face.  When he came to, he found his mind full of
information he had not known an instant before.  And understanding
exactly what it meant.
   "The Terrans," he said, "The Terrans are descended from Earth's
human survivors.   That's....." he trailed off as a whole host of
things that he had never understood about Terra finally made sense to
him for the first time.   He now understood why long ago, Michael had
said to him that 'Earth' was sometimes a name used for Terra but that
the reason wasn't known.   He now understood how the entire
Nationalist/Eastern Alliance conflict had started.   The Americans and
the Communist nations upon arriving and finding themselves in contact
with each other had allowed their old superpower struggle to begin anew
over time.
   And he also realized that during his contacts with Terran
civilization he had actually met the direct descendants of both General
Russell Tower and Colonel Maxwell, the Americans who had piloted the
Magellan III to Betelgeuse.   Brenda Maxwell, whom he had met when John
had made Apollo into the false vision of the Terran Charlie Watts.  
And Sarah.   He now remembered the tombstone of Sarah's father that he
had seen on Paradeen in that first contact.   It had read, JOHN RUSSELL
TOWER.
   But above all of those trivial details, the most important thing
about Terra was now clear to Apollo.
   "John," Apollo regained his composure. "For the first time, I
understand why you told me that we couldn't settle on Terra, and why
our quest couldn't end there."
   "Exactly," John said.  "Twenty five yahrens ago, you were not
prepared to deal with the descendants of Earth.   Not when you were
needed for a more important task concerning Earth itself.  The humans
who were still left behind after the survivor ships departed.   The
brothers who descended into primitive barbarism and savagery.   And who
forfeited the right to recover the planet for themselves when they
chose to make war on the new intelligent species created as a
consequence of the Great War."  He glanced at the Lawgiver.  "You were
needed to finally offer some help to them.   To take responsibility for
them at last, and more importantly to discover the technology that
could enable you to defeat the Cylon Empire in the form of the
Alpha-Omega bomb."
   Taylor was still shaking as he heard the Guardian's words.  Seeing
the nexus of history playing itself out through the most careful design
set down over thousands of years.   What had seemed so mad to him in
1969 when he had first learned about the Alpha-Omega Bomb's existence,
and had then seen it during his tour of duty at SAC Headquarters in
Omaha, now seemed perfectly clear to him.   Even it's seizure by the
mutants seemed to fit into the whole scheme of things as it had
provided the opportunity for it to be recovered by the right people at
the right time.
   "And now, John?" Apollo asked.  "Now, do we take every human on
Earth and return to Terra?   Is that what our destiny is?   To go to
Terra and leave Earth to the....Apes?"
   "The decision does not rest with us, Commander," the Lawgiver said. 
"That is dependent entirely on the free will of both human and ape." 
For the first time, he looked out at the three apes who were present.  
"Is there confidence on the part of you apes that you can live with
humans in brotherhood and peace?   That you can all learn to teach
future generations of the need to cooperate, or should humans still be
feared because of their potential for destruction that was revealed in
their past?"
   "And should apes be feared in future generations because of their
inability to let go of old prejudice?"   John added.  "Those are
questions only you can answer.   And in terms of what must be done with
Terra as well, if in fact you believe anything should be done.   I
would also add that the factor of the Cylons remains a potential part
of the equation as well for you to consider."
   "John," Apollo said.  "I am a man of faith.  I have always tried to
make myself understand that the advice you give to us in some ways must
be made to work for what is best.   But...John, please.   For
twenty-five yahrens we've been searching for the answer to what our
future is.   Must we have this burden of pondering over where to go
continue?"
   "It need not be a burden, Apollo," John said.  "Draw from your
faith.  Act wisely, and the answer shall be as clear to you as the
other answers you have learned are clear to you now."  The Guardian
turned back to the two astronauts.   "Only those who do not act wisely. 
 Who act from impulse and emotion, are the ones condemned to
destruction by their decisions and actions.   As it was with those of
your time.  And as both of you have seen in the sad case of your
friend, Major Brent."  John then paused.  "What was most unfortunate
about his death, is that he lost the opportunity to discover that his
daughter was among the Magellan III passengers, and that her
descendants live to this day on Terra."
   Rollins lowered his head and shook it with the heaviest sadness he
had ever known in his life.
   "Hear what John has said." the Lawgiver directed his attention to
the three apes.  "The same is true of Ape as it is of human."
   And then, both the white-robed Guardian, and the white-robed
Lawgiver motioned their arms and it was soon black for all those who
were present.


   When Apollo opened his eyes, he found himself back on the Bridge,
slumped over as Sheba held him in his arms.
   "Did it happen, Apollo?" his wife asked.
   The Commander slowly exhaled and straightened himself.  "Was  ICdid
I?"
   "We all blacked out for a micron, and then we came too first, but
you were still out for another ten microns." Sheba said.  "I mean, you
were always still here, butC"
   "I see," he said.  "I forgot, they can control time, keep my body in
one place while I'm off with them----" he then rubbed his temples,
feeling that same sensation of coming out of a vortex still pulsing
through his body.
   "So what happened, Apollo?" Sheba sounded eager.  "Do you know what
it is we have to do?"
   Apollo looked at her and slowly nodded. "I think I do."
   "Father?"
   Apollo looked down and sighed with relief as he saw Boxey enter the
bridge and mount the steps to the upper level, his uniform still
smeared with boraton foam remnants.
   "Thank the Lords," he said as he embraced him.   "Sheba, Boxey, come
with me to my quarters.  Let me tell you what happened."

                    Chapter Twenty Five

   A week had past, and in that time much more had happened.  As soon
as the Galactica's repairs had been completed, the battlestar had used
its laser turrets and a viper strike force to blast away the
approaching meteors from the Ganymede explosion. Then came an emergency
meeting of the Council of Twelve.  Now, Apollo had now returned to
Earth to meet formally with Claudius and the Ape government.   Everyone
in both the human and ape population was well aware that the day of
decision for the Colonial Nation had come at last, and there was an
anxious, tense air for the news of what would come out of the meeting.
   "You have made your decision, Commander?" Claudius asked as he and
Apollo sat alone in the Ape President's office.
   "I have," Apollo nodded.  "The matter was put to our Council for a
formal vote and approved unanimously."
   "And the decision?"
   Apollo took a breath.  "The decision is that it would be too painful
and terrible for either extreme option to be considered.  Settling only
on Earth or abandoning Earth.   My decision represents a compromise.  
The Galactica and certain key ships will be returning to Terra.  But
the bulk of the Fleet's population will be settling on Earth."
   The Ape President folded his hands together.  "Why
this....compromise decision?"
   "Practical considerations," Apollo took a sip of the water on the
table.  "My people are tired and weary.   There are many who after
twenty five of your years traveling through space, want to settle and
live again on a planet.   The return to Terra represents five yahrens
of minimal space travel, which is something many do not relish.   There
is also...." he took another breath.  "There is also the factor of
culture clash that many people do not wish to engage in.   To return to
Terra would for them constitute imposing ourselves on a culture not yet
prepared to fully embrace us as lost brothers.   And if it were done by
a population as large as ours is, that could lead to even greater
complications."
   "But with just the Galactica it can be different?"
   "We think so.   There is the past connection that I have with some
people on Terra who may still be alive after twenty five years, which
means I should be able to approach them.   Plus, there is the fact that
the Galactica is needed to provide defense for Terra against the Cylon
Empire, which within a few years time is going to send out a new task
force again that will conceivably encounter Terra for the first time.  
In her present state, Terra is powerless against the Cylons."
   "And you can make the difference that will save them."
   "We can't do it alone." Apollo admitted.  "We now realize that
what's really needed are the two remaining Alpha-Omega Bombs on Earth. 
That's why I've decided that before the Galactica leaves, a full search
of the facilities where those two bombs were kept will be made.   If we
fail to find them, then our own scientists will reconstruct one from
the data we gathered in our examination of the first one."  He paused. 
"Those weapons may turn out to be more than just what's needed to
defend Terra.   They could be the key to destroying the entire Cylon
Empire once and for all.....Maybe, well maybe even lead to the recovery
of our original twelve worlds.   But what is clear is that they can't
be allowed to remain on Earth.  If we are to see true coexistence
between human and ape on Earth, then neither side should have the
opportunity to find the Bomb and develop it for potential conflict."
   Claudius leaned back in his chair.  "Very sound thinking, Commander. 
 Am I to assume that for the most part, your people do not intend to
settle with all of the technologies you presently have?"
   "That's correct.   By and large, many of our people welcome the
opportunity to start anew, just so long as it's on a planet where they
can grow food, breathe fresh air and live.   Retaining the scientific
knowledge to develop technology is all well and good, but I think for
at least one generation the people who settle here will be more open to
a more primitive form of living by their standards."  He paused. 
"Especially since our greatest responsibility is to reeducate the
primitives of this planet.  In a sense, those that stay here have to be
more like them in order to connect with them and to make the
breakthroughs that will get them to talk and to develop learning
skills.   Thrusting them into an advanced technological society would
likely amount to a serious case of overloading them too fast."
   "Which also explains why you have decided it unwise to take them to
Terra."
   "Exactly."
   Claudius rose from his seat.  "Will you ever return to Earth?"
   Apollo looked down at the floor.  "No.  Perhaps one day, the
Galactica will....but no.  I know that I won't live to see that....and
that, has created a personal complication for me in this decision, but
it's one that I have to live with and accept."
   The Ape President frowned.
   "My daughter is staying on Earth with those who are settling."
Apollo said.  "She...She's carrying the child of a primitive she met,
and she somehow met the same primitive again and has....decided in
effect to become his wife while she educates him with the other
primitives.   That means...that means that when the Galactica leaves
I'll never see her again."
   Claudius was silent for nearly a minute before he responded.
   "It is not an easy decision to make when there are such
complications involved." he said.  "And yet, I am sure that ultimately
it is a decision that both of you have reached wisely.  Which is all
that's expected of any of us anymore, as we both know."
   Apollo smiled thinly as he bit his lip, but still didn't look up.
   "Come my friend," Claudius put a hand on his shoulder.  "The
Assembly awaits us.   This represents the first day of the new era for
both apes and humans."


   "I suppose I don't have to guess what your decision is, do I
George?" Rollins asked as he sat across from Taylor in the living area
of Cornelius and Zira's home.   Both of them had just returned from the
Assembly, where they had witnessed Apollo's speech, and seen a large
crowd of both Apes and Humans mingling together and showing a united
burst of applause when the commander had finished his remarks.
   "No," Taylor smiled thinly as he held his daughter in his arms and
kissed her.   Eve let out a happy chuckle as she wrapped her arms
around her father's neck.  "My place is here, Phil.  On this planet
with Nova and Eve."
   "You could always bring them."  Rollins said.  "I know there are
complications if all the primitives came to Terra, but if it were just
Nova and Eve...."
   "She's been through enough, Phil," Taylor glanced over into the
dining area where Nova was being given a rudimentary course in handling
eating utensils by Zira.   To Taylor's amazement, his wife had already
grasped the basic idea of how to use a spoon and was progressing in how
to use a fork.   It would be a long time though before he felt safe
enough to see her try to handle a knife.   "Subjecting her to five
years of space travel and a civilization She's not ready to understand
just wouldn't be right.  She needs her education to be slow and from
the bottom up like all the rest of them are going to get.   That can
only come here."
   Rollins sighed.  "I know you're right George.  I just...think I'm
trying to find an excuse for you to come."
   "You don't have to go to Terra, you know."
   "Yes I do."  Rollins was firm.  "I'm the only person who can bridge
the gap between the Colonials and the Terrans.   Hell, if they've still
preserved the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution like
General Tower's message implied, I'm probably the only one who can tell
the Terrans what that really means and what their ancestors are really
like.   I'm needed there.   And....well it's apt to be a civilization I
can feel more comfortable in than this one ever will be."
   "I think you're right," Taylor admitted.  "It's just that...well it
means that neither of us will ever have any one from our own time to
talk to anymore, and that's not easy to confront is it?"
   "No," Rollins sighed.  "God, poor Brent.   Why did he go off the
deep end when he didn't have to?"
   "The same irrational impulse that led to the War, Phil."  Taylor
cuddled his daughter close to him.  "That's all there is to it." he
paused.  "For what it's worth, I'm glad we had a chance to see each
other again.   I never mentioned this to you before Phil, but back in
our astronaut days you were probably the only person I knew who I felt
I could call a friend.   My...perpetual misanthropy made me a very
unpleasant person, but you were always willing to look past that and
treat me kindly, when every other astronaut in the corps probably
wanted to sock me in the jaw.   I...I'm sorry I never thanked you for
that before I left on the Magellan flight, and I'm glad that at least
I've been able to rectify that."
   Rollins smiled wryly, "That incredible Providential hand of history
at work, no doubt.   We're the most fortunate men of the 20th century
who ever lived, George.   We both have a lot to be thankful for.   You
helped pave the way for reeducating the primitives with Nova, and
me....well I get to see to it that the things that were good about our
time will be remembered by posterity after all."
   At that point, Nova rose from the dinner table and entered the
living area, sitting next to Taylor and leaning close against her.
   She then looked over at Rollins, her brown eyes staring hard at him. 
And then, her lips moved, "Roll....ins?"
   The Air Force Colonel stiffened in amazement.
   "I was determined that your name be the second word she learned,"
Taylor smiled as he wrapped his arm about Nova.  "I'm glad she finally
learned and had a chance to say it to you."
   "Thank you." Rollins rose.  "Well, I ah....have to go now.  The
ah...Colonials need my help searching for the other Alpha-Omega bombs,
and I'm going with them to what's left of Omaha and Vandenberg."
   "I know," Taylor said.  "I had a talk with Apollo about that a few
days ago and gave him a full description of the SAC headquarters layout
where it was kept.   If you're going with them, you should have no
trouble finding the one there."
   "Yeah," Rollins looked up at the ceiling.  "And I spent a year at
Vandenberg, so I gave them the info they need about looking there.  IC"
he broke off, feeling a tide of emotion rising inside him.
   His fellow astronaut rose from the seat, handing Eve to her mother.
   "God bless you, Phil," Taylor said with total sincerity.  "If the
20th Century had more men like you, none of this ever would have
happened.   And...thanks for trying to rescue me and the rest of the
crew.  It took a lot of courage and compassion for you to volunteer for
that mission."
   "God bless you, you crazy son-of-a-bitch," Rollins choked back the
emotion as they shared a friendly embrace.   "You take care of yourself
and don't raise your kids to be like the way you used to be."
   "That's a promise." Taylor smiled as he let go of his friend.  He
then motioned to Nova, "Nova, say goodbye to Rollins."
   Nova faintly nodded, and slowly moved her mouth,
"Good.....bye.....Roll.....ins."  The words still with the forced
quality as though it was like struggling with a great weight.
   "Goodbye Nova," Rollins smiled and lightly kissed her on the cheek. 
He then moved over to the next room, to say goodbye to Cornelius and
Zira.
   When he returned, no further words were exchanged.   The astronaut
from the 20th century opened the door and gave his friend a last salute
to his fellow officer as he opened the door and was then gone.
   As soon as the door closed, Taylor realized that for the first time
in a very long while, he could feel tears in his eyes.


   Starbuck could feel himself trembling as he entered the Life
Station.   He had known for days that this was going to be the most
important conversation of his life and he prayed to the Lords that he
not foul things up like he had done so many yahrens ago before a
similar kind of talk with Athena.
   "Hey Bucko."  Boomer grinned as he saw his old friend enter.  The
Chief Scientist was seated on an examining table with his leg propped. 
"You're just in time to see my leg made better than ever."
   "Glad to hear that, Boomer," Starbuck smiled as he watched
Cassiopeia run the fuser apparatus over Boomer's leg.   After a few
microns, she clicked it off.
   "There."  She said brightly.  "That should be an improvement after
the hasty job we did last sectan after the battle.   Try walking on
it."
   Boomer slid off the table and tested his leg with several steps. 
"Perfect."  He grinned.  "It feels so good now, that if I had two good
arms I'd feel like playing my first triad game in yahrens."
   "You could probably whip the entire seniors squad with just one arm,
Boomer."  Starbuck folded his arms and kept smiling.  "But don't get
any delusions of grandeur just yet."
   "I won't." Boomer headed for the exit.  "Time I get myself back to
work now and catch up on what I've had to miss this last sectan.   The
search teams on Earth should be reporting soon on whether they've found
the Alpha-Omega bombs yet."
   As soon as Boomer was gone, Cassiopeia turned to Starbuck, smiling
at him, but with a distinctive trace of awkwardness.
   "So," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.  "What can I do for you,
Starbuck?"
   "Cass," Starbuck started and felt his heart pumping so fast, he had
to take a deep breath.  "Cass, um...could we talk privately?"
   Her smile faded and she hesitated for a brief instant.  "Okay.  My
office."
   They stepped over to her private cubicle at the other side of the
Life Station.   As soon as they were in, she closed the door and turned
back to him.  "Yes?"
   "CassB" Starbuck had his back to her, hands clasped behind him.  "I
ah....felt we needed to talk.   I...heard that you plan on staying on
Earth."
   "I didn't think I had any choice, Starbuck."  His ex-wife's tone was
even.  "My job is Chief Medical Officer of the entire population.   The
majority of them are staying, and that means I have to go with them and
provide the medical leadership they're going to need in a new
environment.   The med-techs and doctors in training can handle matters
here on the Galactica after she leaves for Terra."
   "Cass," Starbuck still had his back to her.  "Don't go.  Please."
   "Why?" she asked pointedly, wishing he would look her in the eye. 
"Because of you?   No one's forcing you to stay on the Galactica."
   "Cass," he finally turned around.  "This...this whole situation on
Earth isn't what I was prepared to cope with.   And then I figured
maybe I could learn to live on Earth and tolerate the apes,
but.....well, when I heard about Terra that changed everything for me. 
 Terra is a civilization closer to what we knew in the Colonies.  It's
thousands of yahrens ahead of where Earth is, even more advanced than
where Earth was at her peak period before the War."
   "Yeah." the Chief Medical Officer noted dryly.  "On Terra you can
probably still play games in chanceries and load up on choice bottles
of ambrosia in plush living spaces."
   "Oh come on Cass!"  Starbuck protested.  "That isn't it."
   Cassiopeia sighed, "All right, I apologize for that.   But Starbuck,
I have a responsibility as a doctor to provide care not only for the
sixty thousand who plan on staying on Earth, but to introduce new
medicines for the apes to make use of too.   Giving them breakthroughs
that will improve their physical health is a key to lasting peace and
coexistence.   I need to be there to help that process along."  She
paused.   "The people could also use some leaders like you."
   "The Galactica needs warriors too to help train the Terrans to
defend themselves against the Cylons."
   "That's true," she admitted.  "But you're not indispensable for that
task, Starbuck.   Scientists like Boomer, who need to operate the
Alpha-Omega bombs and probably develop more of them are.   So are
younger warriors like Pliny and Boxey.  And so is Athena, because She's
needed to train all the new warriors who will be working alongside the
Terrans.  But not you, Starbuck.   There is no urgent reason for you to
stay with the Galactica and go to Terra other than the chance to keep
doing the things that drove us apart a long time ago." she then paused,
"Not to mention the fact that you quite obviously don't want to live
anywhere near the apes or be part of a co-existence policy if you had
your druthers."
   "That isn't it!" he protested.  "Look, I admit that I don't exactly
feel like I'd ever want to have dinner with one of them, butC" he broke
off, cursing himself inwardly and wondering why this was turning into a
disaster just like it had with Athena so many yahrens ago.
   As though Cassiopeia were reading his mind, she then said gently,
"Starbuck, I'm sorry.   I know what you're looking for, but you're not
doing it for the right reasons.   You're looking for a crutch.  
Something to grab hold of now that you see the end of your career as a
hotshot warrior in sight.   I can't be your crutch, Starbuck.   I tried
to be that for fifteen yahrens as your wife, and it just didn't work.  
I don't want to play that role again."
   "CassC" Starbuck started, an almost pleading edge in his voice.  But
no other words came out.  Chiefly because he knew that he didn't have
anything he could say that could change her mind.   He couldn't just
say to her that he still loved her, because she'd always known that,
and still felt the same way about him.  Both of them had known long ago
that wasn't enough to make their marriage endure, and it wasn't going
to be enough now.  The two of them now belonged to separate worlds
completely and there was no way the gap could be bridged unless one of
them was willing to give up his or her very identity in order to please
the other.   And he knew that Cassiopeia couldn't give up her sense of
duty to the people settling on Earth anymore than he could ever cope
with the idea of settling in a more primitive environment where he'd
feel useless in his declining years.   At Terra at least, he could
perform a valuable task of training people in how to defend themselves
against the danger of the Cylons that still existed.
   "Do you have anything else you want to say, Starbuck?" Cassiopeia
asked gently, not wanting to do anything that would make the
conversation end on an angry note.   Especially when she already knew
there might not ever be another opportunity to talk to him again.
   "No," he straightened his uniform.  "No, I guess I don't.  I think
I've found out all I need to know."  He started for the door, but then
his ex-wife grabbed his arm.
   "Starbuck," her tone was tender.  "Always know that I cherish the
happy times we did have as the most precious things I've ever known in
my life."
   For the first time, the grizzled warrior seemed to relax.  "Thanks
Cass...I appreciate that.   And I feel the same way too."
   "I know you do," she took a breath.  "If we don't..... get another
opportunity.....well, you be a good teacher to the Terrans in how to
fly a viper."
   "I will."  He managed to smile.  "And don't pass any bad medicine to
the apes."
   "I won't," she said.  "Goodbye Starbuck."
   "Goodbye Cass."
   When he was gone, the Chief Medical Officer leaned her head back
against the wall, and slowly exhaled, determined not to shed any tears. 
 For her, the last chapter of a book that had begun twenty-five yahrens
ago on a crowded Gemonese freighter after the Holocaust, had just been
closed.


   After delivering his message to the Ape Assembly, Apollo had been
forced to return to the Galactica to deal with the coordination efforts
aimed at landing 85% of the ships in the Fleet on Earth, and
determining where the population would be settled.   Now, after more
than a day of discussion with the Council and other representatives,
he'd retreated to the sanctuary of his office, just outside his
quarters for some private contemplation.
   "Apollo?"
   He looked up and saw his wife enter.  "Hi," he said.  "Got some news
for me?"
   "Yes." she said.  "We just received word that the search teams found
both Alpha-Omega Bombs.   The first one in that place called Vandenberg
was sealed in a gigantic steel vault.   Fortunately the few survivors
who'd long ago left the place decided not to try and take it with them
and left it sealed.  According to Colonel Rollins, the way it was
rigged was that only a fingerprint ID by the President of his country
could have unlocked the vault.   They had to use some high-level
charges to get the vault blasted open."
   "And the second one at that place called....Omaha?"
   "That proved to be less difficult," the executive officer said. 
"The base facility where it was kept had taken a direct hit, but the
underground facility survived the blast.   What they did find out
was....rather a chilling sight.  Someone stationed at the base who
survived the blast, whether it was the commander or a junior officer
we'll never know, had taken it upon himself to blast open the vault and
try and set off the Bomb as an act of revenge.   And then at least one
or two other survivors in the facility tried to stop him.   The end
result was some kind of struggle that killed everyone in the process.  
It's....literally a miracle that the bomb wasn't triggered back then,
because the skeleton of one of the men there was lying just ten feet
from where he could have thrown the switch and ended the world 2000
years ago."
   "Good Lord."  Apollo whispered.
   "I know," Sheba nodded.  "But the Lords be praised that didn't
happen.  The bombs are on their way back to the Galactica and will
arrive within the centar."
   Her husband looked down at his desk.  "And when that happens," he
said with a heavy heart.  "Then our work here is basically done.  Our
departure for Terra can take place....any day now."
   "What about the resettlement?"
   "They've.....pretty much got it in hand now."  He didn't look up at
her.  "The resettlement will be situated some one hundred miles north
of Ape City, in the jungle and forest region beyond the so-called
Forbidden Zone.   With the Forbidden Zone to act as a natural barrier,
that way there'll be no close contact with the Apes to produce any
uneasiness, but at the same time close enough within landram range to
conduct some periodic commerce contacts."
   "It sounds like it should be the basis for a productive
co-existence."
   Both of them fell silent for nearly a centon, because both of them
knew what was weighing heavily on both of their minds.
   "I have the shuttle standing by for....whenever you want us to go
down." his wife finally broke the silence.
   "That'll be soon," Apollo still couldn't bring himself to look at
her.  "Probably no later than tomorrow morning.  And Boxey and Athena
will come with us."
   Sheba sat down in the chair in front of him, her eyes fixated on the
stars shining through the porthole.
   "I didn't get a single centon of sleep the last two nights," she
spoke in a thin whisper.  "I was lying in bed trying desperately to
think of one powerful argument I could come up with to tell Hera why
she needs to stay with us.   And....I couldn't come up with one.  
Because all I had staring me in the face was what I told her when I
found out she was pregnant.   I gave her one of those mother-daughter
talks about how she needed to take responsibility for a situation that
she'd willingly thrust herself into.   And....if I try to talk her into
leaving Earth, then everything I said to her about that before becomes
empty felgercarb."
   "If she hadn't run into that same primitive again," Apollo sighed. 
"Maybe it would have been different."
   "Maybe," she admitted.  "But I really can't help but wonder if there
was a reason for that.   The same reason why things have...been made to
happen as they have."
   Apollo finally forced himself to look at his wife.   Seeing her in
profile, he could catch the glint of the stars shining on her face. 
Illuminating the tears that were forming in her eyes.
   "So I guess we don't have an argument to make when we go there. 
It's all going to be....to say goodbye to her."
   "It seems that way."  Sheba refused to let her voice crack.  "I'm
not looking forward to it.   Knowing I'll never see her again.   Never
seeing our grandchild.   This will be the most difficult time of my
life since I said goodbye to my father."
   "I know." Apollo said and then chose his next words carefully.  "I
suppose the only way to avoid that is for us to stay on Earth."
   "Don't say that again, Apollo," an edge of coldness entered her
tone.  "You already know we can't do that.   And even if we could,
Boxey's made his decision to stay on the Galactica for work at Terra.  
Either scenario, we say goodbye forever to one of our children.  
That's something we both have to live with for the rest of our lives.  
Painful as that is, we have to accept it." she paused.  "At least it's
not as though we lost one of them in all the turmoil that's happened in
the last sectan."
   "True," her husband nodded and rose.  "Still, I wonder why it
couldn't have worked out to be....perfect from my standpoint."
   "Life is never that way, Apollo," Sheba said, "If it were, there
wouldn't have been a Destruction of the Colonies in the first place. 
Or a great war on Earth two thousand yahrens ago."
   "There's a difference between knowing and understanding things like
that, and learning to accept them, Sheba.   My problem has always been
with the latter.   Never the former."
   Before she could reply, the videocom from the Bridge sounded.
   "Yes, Omega?"
   "Commander, you're needed for another conference concerning the
landing of ships on Earth.   There are some concerns over where they
set down safely in the designated region."
   "Okay thanks.   Colonel Sheba and I will be in the Council chamber
in three centons."
   He switched it off and smiled weakly, "Duty calls for now."
   "As it always does." she sighed as she rose from her chair and they
left his office.


   When Cornelius opened the door of his house in response to the
knock, he was mildly surprised to see the subdued form of Professor
Sylvan standing outside.
   "Yes?" the archeologist's tone was reasonably polite but with a
noticeable edge of coldness.
   "Cornelius, I----" the scholar seemed to fumble for words.  "Could I
come in and talk?"
   "Of course," Cornelius opened the door and motioned him to a chair
in the living area.  "Sit down?"
   "Thank you," the ex-renegade seemed to deflate into the chair. 
"I....suppose I'm the last ape you ever wanted to have to talk to
again, but----"
   "Come to the point, Professor."  Cornelius cut in coldly.
   "Very well," he straightened himself.  "I've....come to apologize."
   "A little too late for all the deaths you caused as a result of your
conspiracies, isn't it?" Cornelius retorted acidly.   "Always remember
Sylvan, that the blood of the gorillas who died at the hands of the
humans after your seizure are entirely on your hands."
   "All right!" the scholar angrily shouted.  "All right, I admit, my
methods were....no, forget that.   The whole thing was wrong."
   "I imagine seeing the Lawgiver face-to-face as you and I did, has
caused you to reevaluate your actions."
   "It has."  Sylvan admitted.  "And I'm prepared to admit that with
regard to this generation of humans, we as apes have nothing to fear.  
We should work towards co-existence and peace."
   "There is a but, about to form on your lips is there not?"
   Sylvan drew himself up. "None of us have any guarantees about the
future, Cornelius.  Even the words of the Lawgiver and his human
counterpart make it plain that it is conceivable for future generations
of humans to retain their prejudices, and to retain the instincts that
led to the destruction of the ancient civilization."
   "And it's also true of apes as well, Sylvan."  Cornelius cut in,
"Which was the other thing we learned."
   "Of course, of course," the scholar nodded.  "All I'm saying
Cornelius, is that our future generations can't view the idea of peace
as a permanent certainty.   That's all.   That's.....that's what I was
thinking more in terms of, when I.....well that is...."
   "Don't make any more excuses or rationalizations to me, Sylvan,"
Cornelius said.  "What's done is done.   The President has insisted
that we move on.   If you and I are to co-exist with each other, let
alone with the humans, then there is little to be gained in discussing
the past."  He paused, "I only hope that if General Ursus ever has the
fortitude to show his ugly face in Ape City again after he fled like a
coward last week, that you won't see fit to talk to him."
   "Yes, yes!" Sylvan waved his arms.  "You're right, but....I still
feel that our future generations need to be taught the need for
prudence and caution, along with co-existence.   That's all."
   "So long as there is a limit to it, Professor," the archeologist
noted.  "So long as one is not overemphasized at the expense of the
other."  He paused.  "Do you have any other matters to discuss with
me?"
   "No," Sylvan admitted.  "I don't."
   "Then good day, Professor." Cornelius opened the door.  
   Several moments after the scholar had departed, the door opened
again and Zira entered.
   "I just saw Sylvan leaving," she asked with faint bewilderment. 
"What was he here for?"
   Her husband sighed.  "To offer a grim reminder of how the future is
never going to be 100 percent certain for any of our descendants."
   Zira shook her head.  "After all we've been through Cornelius, I'll
be satisfied just to see it last the rest of my own lifetime, and let
the next generation handle any potential difficulties."
   His brow furrowed in surprise.  "That doesn't sound like you, Zira."
   "I know," the ape psychologist settled into the chair.  "I think I'm
finally feeling all the scars that began with Taylor's arrival taking
their toll on me.   What we've been through since..." she almost
shuddered.
   "Yes, I know," Cornelius came over and sat next to her.  "But Zira,
now that we're entering a new era we have to be even more vigorous than
we were when it was just you and me, standing alone against the
Tribunal that convicted us of heresy for challenging the old
assumptions about man."
   "It's not that, Cornelius," Zira looked up at the stone ceiling. 
"I'll never lose my determination to promote coexistence and peace, and
to see it that the class barriers among apes are broken down too.   I
just don't want there to be another crisis anymore.   That's all.   I'm
not sure I could survive one."
   Cornelius reached over and squeezed her hand.  "There won't be,
Zira." he said with determination.   "Not in our lifetimes."
   Zira looked at her husband.   Slowly, a smile of returning
confidence came over her face as she reached over and took Cornelius's
other hand.


   "Shuttle carrying Alpha-Omega bombs just arrived a few centons ago,
Commander," Omega said as Apollo entered the bridge.  "Dr. Boomer is
having them unloaded for examination, and for cross-check purposes with
the Celestra to see about manufacturing duplicate components for
adaptation to our remaining regular missiles."
   "Very good," Apollo said stoically and took a breath.  "Inform
Lieutenant Boxey, Major Athena and Colonel Sheba that they're to report
immediately to Alpha Bay."
   Right away, Omega knew what the request was about.  "Yes sir."
   When Apollo arrived in the landing bay several centons later, he saw
that most of the support teams who had worked on the recovery of the
Alpha-Omega bombs were still mingling about.   To one side, he saw
Rollins seated on a bench going through the contents of a large sack.
   "Hello Colonel," Apollo came up to him.  "What do you have there?"
   The astronaut looked up and smiled thinly.  "Some mementos of my
time that I found during our recovery operations, that I think might
come in handy toward establishing direct links with the Terrans.  
Assuming that they've retained some of the facets of my time in their
culture."  He pulled out one object.  "A 26 volume Encyclopedia.   1997
edition, the last one put out before the war, reduced to a computer
disc.   A basic history of the planet Earth for them to be reacquainted
with."
   "That will be helpful to us too."
   Rollins nodded faintly and pulled out a thick book.  "This came from
the commanding officer's quarters at Port Kennedy on the moon. 
Complete works of William Shakespeare, the greatest playwright in Earth
history."  He set it down and pulled out another one.  "Another
literary classic.   War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy."  Then came several
items that looked to be video reels. "Some vintage popular
entertainment of my century.   This is what we called movies.   None of
these titles would mean a thing to you, but....I have a feeling they'll
be helpful tools to keeping my sanity over the course of the rest of my
life.   Visual images of the world I once knew."
   Apollo idly glanced at some of the titles on the sides of the boxes. 
They all sounded strange to him.  The Wizard Of Oz.   Ben-Hur.  Gone
With The Wind.   Yet, he had a feeling that he'd want to one day look
at them himself.
   Rollins pulled out the last item of his inventory.   A thick,
leather bound book with gold letters engraved on the front.   HOLY
BIBLE.
   "This was something I had to find," Rollins said simply as he eyed
it and then put it back with the other items.  "More than anything
else, I needed to find one of these.   And I hope and I pray that when
we get to Terra, the people there will still know what this is."
   He finally picked up his sack.  "I'll be going to my quarters now,
Commander.   If I'm needed for anything else, please let me know."
   "Thank you, Colonel."  Apollo said.  "You've been a tremendous help
to us.   Get some rest for now.   We'll be...." he took a breath.  "We
leave for Terra tomorrow."
   "Thank you sir."  Rollins said, "If it's all right with you sir,
I....well I don't want to watch the Earth disappear from view.   With
your permission, I think I'd rather sleep through our departure."
   "Understood," Apollo said.
   As Rollins moved off, he saw the turbo lift to the landing bay
descend.   Stepping off were Sheba, Boxey and Athena.
   The last trip to Earth for all of them was about to begin.

   One hundred miles north of New York City, in an area that Taylor
remembered as encompassing the Catskill mountains, the humans had begun
to set up their new settlements.   Scores of makeshift tents lined the
forest areas, while numerous technicians and surveyors had begun
mapping out the areas where permanent structures, cannibalized in part
from the ships that would soon land, would be set up.   In effect, the
preparations to building a new city were now underway.
   In one facility at the far side of the settlement, was a fenced in
area that contained more than one hundred primitives, the first of the
group relocated from the regions near Ape City and transported by
landram through the Forbidden Zone to the human settlement.  
Cassiopeia had recently arrived and had begun to direct operations in
keeping the primitives subdued for close examination.   Then, the next
task was to see how they could keep them subdued and tamed before more
primitives were brought in.   By far, the most difficult challenge was
to see if the primitives could be allowed to roam free for now, without
causing any potential damage to the facilities of their intelligent
brethren.
   At Hera's urging, one tactic was being employed to gradually gain
the trust of the primitives.   Approach them on their level first.  
Appear non-threatening to them.   Only then, would a bond of trust be
established.   And so, the med-techs who had begun to work directly
with the primitives had all been forced to dress as primitives and do
little talking, in order to gain their confidence.   Then, as the face
became more familiar to the primitive mind it would then be safe to
dress normally and even speak to them.   All part of the slow learning
process that each primitive would undergo to see if the spark of
intelligence could be reignited in all of them.
   The blonde ensign had already discovered how well the experiment was
working with the man she had decided would be her husband.   When Blue
Eyes had come to after his long centars of unconsciousness, he at first
only seemed to half-recognize Hera.  Then, the ensign had tried a new
tactic, of appearing to him dressed in the skimpy garments of a
primitive again, and his recognition seemed complete.   The bond they
had formed on that single afternoon in the lagoon had been
reestablished.
   After more than a week of staying close to him, and developing that
bond further, Hera finally decided to see how he would react to the
sight of her in uniform this time.   And on this day, she saw to her
delight that it didn't seem to make any difference to him at all.
   The first difficult step, she thought.   And I think it's a success.
   She had wondered if she could ever bring herself to truly feel love
for Blue Eyes.   Would he only be a responsibility from her standpoint? 
 Someone she could care for out of a sense of duty, but to truly feel
the emotional bond of love?   But after a week, she found that the
question wasn't as difficult to her as it had once seemed.   And once
their child was born, she knew that the bond would truly be complete.
   On this day, she had decided it was safe to let Blue Eyes out of the
fenced in perimeter where the other primitives were kept.  She guided
him about the various parts of the human settlement, talking at length
to him.   All of that was part of the next phase.   With a bond in
place, talk often.   Let the primitive become familiar with the voice,
and perhaps one day the desire to emulate would kick in.
   "....and over there," she motioned as she came to a clearing, "Over
there is Colonel Taylor and his wife, Nova.  And their daughter Eve.  
Now Nova, is exactly like you, Blue Eyes."  Even now she had decided
she couldn't come up with a proper name for him.   Any name she
selected might carry with it some familial connection that she didn't
want to highlight at this time.  "But now She's learned how to talk
just like me.   To speak."
   She looked back at Blue Eyes.  The expression on his handsome face
remained like that of a docile pet being led about.   But the important
thing was that he seemed to be listening.
   Hera then frowned as she noticed that Taylor was using a laser to
carve writing into a smooth stone, located over several mounds that
indicated there had been some recent digging.
   "Colonel Taylor?"  She called out as she and Blue Eyes made their
way over.
   Taylor didn't respond at first as he finished his delicate carving. 
 When he was done, he got to his feet and looked at the results with
satisfaction.
   Hera looked over and read along with him:

   THIS SITE IS DEDICATED TO THE CREW OF THE AMERICAN 
   SPACECRAFT, MAGELLAN AND MAGELLAN II.   TO THOSE WHOSE
   MORTAL REMAINS LIE HERE.
    MAJOR STEPHEN LANDON, USAF
    DR. ARTHUR DODGE
    MAJOR JOHN CHRISTOPHER BRENT, USAF
    CAPTAIN DONALD FOWLER, USAF
   AND TO LIEUTENANT JULIA STEWART, USAF WHO MET DEATH 
   ELSEWHERE.

   THIS STONE ERECTED BY COLONEL GEORGE TAYLOR, USAF, THE 
   COMMANDER OF THE MAGELLAN ON THIS DAY, JUNE 21, AD 3979. 

   "I wish I could have retrieved poor Stewart's body, and then all of
them would be here in one spot," Taylor finally spoke.  "But the
logistics of getting to it in the bottom of the lake were too
complicated." he paused.  "Dodge was easy enough.  So were Brent and
Fowler.  Landon.  God Almighty, the other day..." he shuddered.
   "Colonel?" Hera asked. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."
   "Landon."  Taylor kept his eyes on the stone.  "The second in
command of my flight.  What happened to him was....the worst of what
happened to any of us."  He then explained how Landon had been captured
by the Apes at the same time he had.   How Dr. Zaius had then cut out
his mind through brain surgery and left him a wandering vegetable for
eternity.
   "I found him two days ago when we gathered the first group of
primitives for transport up here." Taylor said.  "His hair had grown
back covering the scar from the brain surgery, but there was no
mistaking him.   And when I realized it was him, I did something I
vowed I'd do if I ever found him again, and that was to finally put his
soul at peace."
   "There was nothing our science could do toC"
   "Unless you've figured out how to give a man a new brain, the answer
is no." he cut her off.
   Hera nodded in understanding and glanced at the stone.  "No mention
of Colonel Rollins?"
   Taylor chuckled.  "Since he's not dead, it'd be insulting to put his
name on a memorial marker.   I think when all's said and done they're
going to make some big memorials for him on Terra when he gets through
with the people on that planet."
   Hera heard her minicom beep, which caused Blue Eyes to jump
slightly.  "It's okay, it's okay," she said reassuringly as she touched
his arm.  "See?" she pulled it out.  "This just lets me talk to some
other friends." she activated it.  "This is Hera."
   "The shuttle with your family is arriving, Ensign."
   "Thank you," Hera switched it off.  "I have to go now.  Blue Eyes
follow me." she motioned to the handsome primitive and smiled.  "Time
for you to meet the family."


   "Have they done this much already?" Athena was taken aback by the
magnitude of what had been set up in so little time.
   "What you're seeing is twenty-five yahrens of pent-up desire to be
creative in a new environment finally unleashing itself."  Sheba said
as they stepped out of the shuttle. "No one wants to relax.   This is
finally doing something meaningful with their lives again."
   Boxey looked about and sighed with faint regret.  "I almost wish I'd
decided to stay and pitch in.  You can really....feel the whole energy
they're putting out."
   Apollo turned to him.  "You know, it's not too late for you to
change your mind about that.   If that's what you really want to do."
   His wife glared at him as soon as the words were out of his mouth. 
But Boxey was hastily shaking his head no.
   "No, no.  That's not it."
   "Okay," his father said.  "There....can't be any loose ends when
this whole thing is done.   I want that understood, quite clearly."
   "Of course, Apollo," Athena said.  "We all know that."
   They walked several feet away from the shuttle, all of them looking
about at the activities taking place throughout the settlement.   So
caught up with fascination in what was going on, that at first they
didn't see Hera waving to them, as she made her way up.   Behind her,
Blue Eyes was staring at all of them with a guarded, cautious
expression, typical of any primitive that didn't know whether to regard
someone as a friend or enemy.
   "Hey!" Hera called out.  "Over here!"
   Her family spotted her, and came over, all of them with happy,
joyful expressions.  For several centons there were only hugs and
embraces and happy words exchanged.
   "Blue Eyes," Hera motioned her arm.  "I want you to meet my parents,
Apollo and Sheba.   My brother, Boxey.   My aunt, Athena."
   None of them felt comfortable saying anything direct to him. 
Instead, they all nodded and smiled and directed all their words to
Hera.  "Have you made any breakthroughs?" Sheba asked.
   "A small step forward." Hera said as she kept squeezing Blue Eyes's
hand.  "He doesn't get nervous when I talk.  The more the primitives
see people who look like them talking, then the sooner it might be
before their perpetual muteness comes to an end.   But based on
Taylor's experience with Nova, we're probably looking at six sectars to
a yahren before any of them form their first word."  She paused. 
"Realistically, we can probably expect better results from the
interbreeding."
   "I see," Apollo nodded.  "How are you feeling right now?"
   "Feeling very pregnant, even though it's sectars before it'll show
visibly."  Hera sighed.  "Cassiopeia thinks these early signs just one
sectan after conception probably amounts to the only major side effect
interbreeding causes.   Apart from that...there isn't a single thing
about them physically that's different from us."
   "That's good," Boxey felt relieved.  "That really offers hope for
the future."
   "I know," Hera smiled and gently patted her flat stomach.  "I think
a lot of us are over the course of the next few sectars going to be
finding a lot of prospective mates.   At least those of us who
were....unattached beforehand."
   "Speaking of getting attached."  Sheba motioned to her
sister-in-law.
   "Yes," Athena smiled.  "Amos and I are getting sealed next sectar,
just as soon as the Galactica and the other ships get under way."
   "Congratulations!" her niece came up and hugged her.  "It's about
time you married him.   Sorry, I can't attend the ceremony."
   "I know, don't worry." Athena said.  "It's...well there are just too
many things going on now with everyone for us to do it before the
departure."
   "Be happy."  Hera said, and then she stepped back and looked at all
of them.  "I hope all of you will be happy."
   "We will," Boxey nodded.
   A silence then came over them that lasted for a centon.   All of
them knew the reason why.   Each of them was on the verge of breaking
down, but not one of them wanted to be the first to do so.   And so,
the smiling facades remained.
   Finally, Hera gave up.  "Oh Hades," she looked up at the sky, her
voice cracking.   "Here I've been for days wondering about all the
things I want to say in this meeting, and all we've been doing is the
kind of small talk we'd have at a Rising Star dinner party."  She shook
her head.  "That's what I'm really going to miss the most.  Keeping us
all up to date about what we're doing with our lives and all the little
things that happened in our day.   That's...that's just what kills me
the most about all this."
   Boxey and Athena were both looking down at the ground, not wanting
to show any tears.   But neither Apollo nor Sheba bothered to hide
their faces from view.
   "But I can't second-guess this decision, ever." she went on.  "I
know I've done this at a painful cost to all of you, but...I just know
in my heart that this is where I belong.   I never thought when I was
growing up that I'd ever be cut out for anything other than flying
vipers in my life, but this whole experience.   My being the first
Colonial to interbreed with an Earth native.   Running into him again,"
she motioned to Blue Eyes.  "I just have the feeling that Someone is
telling me that I'm needed here."
   "We've all heard that calling in our lives at some time, Hera," her
father spoke, one tear streaming down his cheek, but keeping his voice
steady.   "And when we hear it, we have to follow it.   Believe me,
none of us question what you're doing.  No matter what painful
consequences arise from that."
   "The good thing is that my child gets to be part of a normal family
unit."  Hera smiled mirthlessly as she squeezed Blue Eyes' hand again. 
"The more I talk to him, the more I teach him, the more I....think I'm
in love with him."
   "We're just glad that you're going to be doing productive work,
Hera, helping these people become great again.   Helping this
settlement become something viable, that can learn to live in peace,
even with a race like the apes."
   "We're all proud of you, Hera," Athena said.  "And if the Lord ever
makes it possible for us to come back to Earth some day, I know we're
going to find even more reasons to be proud of you."
   Everyone glanced at Athena.   This was the first time since before
the Holocaust that Apollo could remember his sister invoking the name
of the Deity.   Athena's loss of faith after the death of her mother,
and her younger brother Zac had long been the most telltale scar the
Holocaust had left on Adama's family.   But now, that faith had at last
been restored.
   "Thank you, Athena," Hera said, no less amazed than the others. 
"Maybe that will happen some day.   But even if it doesn't..." she took
a breath, "I know we'll all meet again in what comes afterwards."
   She let go of Blue Eyes' hand, and came up to her family.   They all
met in a circle of embrace, their heads bowed, all of them saying a
final prayer of strength.
   And then, reluctantly the circle was broken and Hera stepped back to
Blue Eyes, while her family stepped back toward the shuttle.
   "Goodbye, Hera," Athena broke the silence first, as she came up and
kissed her niece one last time.  "Take care of yourself." she then went
back inside the shuttle.
   Boxey took a breath and came up to his sister.  "I won't feel as
secure not having you for my wingmate," he smiled, "But I promise not
to let anyone ever shoot my astrum out of the stars."
   "I hereby bequeath as my going-away present, all my flying skills to
you," Hera said as she embraced her brother.  The one person she'd been
closest to while growing up.  "And for sagan's sake find a good girl
and settle down!"
   "I will," he nodded.  "I may wait and see what lovelies are waiting
for me on Terra, though.   After all, if you could find true love here
on Earth...."
   She chuckled and gave him one last playful nudge.  "God bless,
brother."
   "God bless, sister." he returned it.   And then, reluctantly he
turned around and went back inside the shuttle.   Leaving only Apollo
and Sheba.   With the moment at hand, the both of them were feeling
inner anguish like at no other time in their lives.  For Sheba, she
could see a score of memories flashing in front of her eyes at that
instant.   The memory of finding out from Dr. Salik that she was
pregnant.   The joy she felt over knowing that she would experience
having a child of her own with Apollo.  Telling Adama about the news. 
The day of her birth.  Feeding her.  Changing her.   Teaching her to
walk.  Watching her grow from a baby to a little girl, and then a young
woman.  And now, facing the thought that while Hera's life would go on,
for Sheba and Apollo both, there would be no new memories of that life
for them to remember.
   "I couldn't have asked for two greater parents," Hera finally spoke. 
"Both of you have....well, the both of you are more than just parents
to me.   You've been the greatest teachers I ever had.   What I am, is
because of what you've taught me to be." she patted her stomach.   "And
the first thing my child is going to learn from me is what wonderful
grandparents it has."
   "Give that child a kiss from both of us when it's born."  Sheba
said.  "And always let it know how much we love it, and that we're
thinking of it every night."
   "I will." their daughter nodded.  "I love you both."
   "We love you always, Hera," Apollo had to fight hard to keep his
voice from cracking.  "That will always be here with you."
   One final embrace.   One final kiss from both of her parents.  And
then, wiping the tears away from their faces, some final smiles and a
wave.
   And then, both Apollo and Sheba entered the shuttle and were gone.
   Hera watched the shuttle slowly start up and then rise into the air. 
 Her eyes followed it until it became a tiny speck, high in the sky,
and then disappeared from view.
   She lowered her head and felt herself crying harder than she
expected to.  So hard, that she then felt the hand of Blue Eyes on her
shoulder.  She looked at him, and saw the same expression she
remembered when he had reached out his protective arm to her in the
lagoon, when she had been filled with terror after seeing the ape
soldier kill the female primitive wearing her jacket.   And when she
had felt a sense of reassuring comfort at a time when she desperately
needed it.
   Now, she could feel that same sensation again.
   "Thanks," Hera smiled and wiped her eyes, "You know, it'll really be
a breakthrough when you know what it means to cry."
   And then, holding on to his hand, she headed back toward the center
of the settlement.


   The next day, Apollo and Sheba were both on the bridge in their
accustomed spots.   Prepared to carry out their duties at a most
critical time.
   "Commander," Omega said.  "The shuttles from the agro-ship have left
the foodstuffs with us.   The Celestra reports She's in position along
with the Training Ship."
   "Very well," Apollo said.  "Prepare for light speed, Colonel Sheba."
   "Standing by." Sheba reported in her most professional tone.
   "Light speed, now!" he barked out the last word.
   "Light speed!" the executive officer repeated.
   A switch was then thrown, and the three ships that had detached from
the other 200 began to rapidly move.   Within minutes, the three ships
bound for distant Terra had left Earth's solar system completely.
   Below on Earth, it was night over the Eastern seaboard of what had
once been the United States.   And the glow of the Galactica's jump to
light speed could be seen by all of those watching.   By the humans at
the settlement.   By the apes, 100 miles to the south.
   The sight evoked largely neutral reactions from the apes.  For them,
it didn't amount to much since the presence of the remaining 200 ships
that were now preparing to land on Earth impacted more on their lives. 
 Even so, those like Cornelius, Zira, and Claudius felt a tinge of
sadness as they watched.   Wondering if the future would bring leaders
as noble as Apollo had been in the ranks of the humans.
   "Now we await the future," Cornelius said as he and Zira watched. 
"Ape and human must be patient and wait, over many generations perhaps,
to see if the fear of conflict is truly gone forever."
   "But at least we wait with hope for the future."  Zira added.
   100 miles to the north, Cassiopeia, Hera and the several thousand
Colonials who had already settled on the planet watched, more from a
sense of awe than sadness.   Both of them had gone through their
periods of emotional catharsis and had no desire to go through any
more.   Not when so much lay ahead.
   At a more isolated edge of the settlement, Taylor watched with Nova
and Eve beside him, thinking back to that day several months ago when
he'd found the ruins of the Statue of Liberty.   The sense of shock and
despair he'd felt at that terrifying moment of revelation that the
Planet of the Apes was his own.   How it seemed like there was nothing
to have hope in anymore.   His rage and fury that he'd felt with those
who had made the destruction of human civilization possible,
vindicating all the misanthropic beliefs he'd held as a man of the 20th
Century.   Pounding his fists in the sand, saying over and over, only
one phrase.
   "God damn you all to Hell!"
   He had meant it as a literal plea for God to damn for eternity the
ones who had made the destruction possible.  But now, after all that
had happened since that terrible day, the rage and fury was finally
gone from Taylor.  He'd been given a wife.   A child.  And he'd seen
new opportunities for humanity to start over, and to hopefully learn
from the mistakes of the past.   To live in coexistence with the ones
who had hated them for so many centuries.   All because he'd finally
had the chance to meet a new tribe of humans that seemed wiser than his
own had been.   And his reunion with Rollins had been enough to remind
him that even in his own time, the sickness had not affected all men.
   Now, the great ship Galactica was on its way to make contact with
the descendants of those who had managed to escape the Destruction, a
half century after Taylor's own journey had begun. To save them from
the evil that still lurked far off in the form of the Cylon Empire,
with the terrible weapons that his own mad time had created.   And if
that was accomplished, to hopefully make them truly become the society
the Earth should have been before the madness had all begun. 
   Taylor wrapped his arm tightly around Nova and continued to watch
the streak of light in the night sky, before it finally faded out.
   "God be with you," the ex-misanthrope whispered.

- The End -