CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Croft:

The place is crawling with Cylons. When Starbuck says it’s all right to leave our hiding place, I’m reluctant to go. Perhaps I could run to the Cylons, make a deal, offer them—but no, no deals can be completed with Cylons. They make deals, sure, but soon as they’ve got what they want, they renege. I’m better off trying to climb Mount Hekla blindfolded than making small talk with the red-lights.

As the group reassembles, I decide to take the point again. Ahead of me, Leda, her face red in the aftermath of anger, moves out of her hiding place. A short interval later, Thane slinks out of the same alcove. His eyes shift about. He doesn’t notice me, or doesn’t care. Instead of rejoining the group, he begins taking steps backward. What’s he up to? God, Thane, this is no time to try an escape. But that looks like exactly what he’s trying to do. I’m about to pursue him, but I’m afraid he’ll deliberately create a disturbance. He has no instinct for his own survival. Let him go. Perhaps we’re better off without him. I follow a couple of steps anyway. He disappears into another alcove. When he comes out, he’s in one of the clone leather working uniforms. How in the twelve worlds did he find that? It doesn’t fit his lean body very well. After all, these guys are man-mountains and Thane’s got that ax handle of a body! Still, he goes off down the corridor, with all the confidence in his stride that he’s pulling it off. I have to let him try. As a prisoner, it’s his right to try to escape. I used to think of nothing else but crashing out when I was on the prison ship, but I wouldn’t join Thane now on a bet.

I catch up to the group. Leda hangs back and whispers to me:

“Thane’s not here!”

“I know. He’s off somewhere looking for an exit.”

“Crashing out?”

“You got it.”

“That creep! Least he could do was take me with him. Guess he couldn’t, not after…”

“After what?”

“Nothing I’m going to tell you about, Croft. But you and him deserve the same fate, believe me.”

“Maybe. But it’s a fool’s play, trying to escape from down here. Where can he go? What can he do?”

“I don’t know, but at least he’s trying.”

“I get your drift. You’re saying that he’s trying and I’m not.”

“Believe what you want. I don’t know why I’m talking to you. I think you really buy that line these colonial warriors spout. You want to be returned to rank, to—”

“Stop it, Leda. I’ll never be returned to rank. It’s back to the grid-barge for us after—”

“And you’re still going to help these idiots?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Well, you’re going to have to decide soon. I hope nobody needs to crank your brain for you.”

“Leda, I…”

I stop, hating myself for almost saying what I almost said. Leda seems to understand anyway. She says:

“No, nothing can be like what it was before. Don’t you know the real truth that keeps us hustling—nothing is ever like what it was before.”

“You didn’t used to be so bitter.”

“Maybe. You were always the bitter one, Croft. What a switch, huh?”

Tenna signals for us to be still. Leda seems relieved at the signal. I wish I could haul her into one of these alcoves and talk sense to her.

Tenna leads us to a compartment that is identical to the one she took us from, except for a row of clone worker uniforms hanging on the far wall. Starbuck stays behind in the corridor to guard the entrance. Another glowing warm light dominates the center of the room, like in the previous place. Standing next to the light, brilliantly illuminated by it, is another woman. I know it’s another woman, because I can clearly see that our guide is still with us, standing next to Wolfe. The woman in the room must be a clone of the same series as Tenna. She is introduced to us, for convenience’ sake, as Tenna II. She’s so identical, she might as well be called “Tenna too”.

“Quick,” the first Tenna says to the second, “we must hide these humans.”

“But—” Tenna II says.

“No time for planner-type talk. The planners’ll talk us all into death. We need to put them with the children.”

Tenna II nods and presses a button. A piece of wall slides open, revealing another compartment, a large chamber populated by several fair-haired blue-eyed children. The room is not like the others. It’s brighter. More color on the walls and in the children’s clothing. Rough-crafted toys are scattered around the rocky floor. At first I think the children must be more clones, but closer study shows some variation in feature, some difference in body type.

As soon as the daggit-droid sees the children, it barks stupidly. The children, who clearly have never before seen such an ugly ball of animated fur, cower at the noise of the daggit. The kid rushes forward, grabs his pet by the collar. He addresses the children:

“He won’t hurt you. He’s just a daggit. Come on, Muffit.”

The kid and the daggit step into the children’s chamber. For a moment it’s a standoff; then the clone kids gather around the daggit and compete to stroke its fur.

I go quietly to the entranceway to the corridor and motion for Starbuck to abandon his guard post and come in. As soon as Starbuck sees the two Tennas standing gorgeously side by side, his face brightens and he says:

“This is really getting interesting.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure they’ll both be responsive to your charms on an equal basis.”

“Don’t I wish.”

Boomer catches sight of us, and rushes up.

“Starbuck!” He notices where Starbuck’s attention is riveted and pulls at him, saying: “Later.” He glances around the chamber. “Where’s Thane?”

“I don’t know,” Starbuck says. “Maybe he got separated in the passageway.”

I decide not to let the two of them in on what I saw in the corridor. Thane deserves his chance, even if he is an imbecile for making his play now.

“What do you say, Croft?” Boomer says suddenly. “I think Thane’s been looking for the chance to make a break.”

“Nobody’s ever sure what Thane’s looking for,” I say noncommittally.

“We’d better go look for him,” Starbuck says.

“No,” says one of the Tennas. The first one, I think. “Let us do it. We’ve got a better chance to find him. As you can see”—she gestures toward the other Tenna—“in our small world, strangers are rather easy to single out.”

She herds the team into the children’s chamber, then closes the door behind us. The kids are chattering, asking Boxey a lot of questions, giving the daggit a good rubdown. I find a comfortable spot against the thick fur on one wall. This is terrific! Apollo’s off on his little escapade to catechize the father-creator, and we’re all stuck in the nursery. Maybe I can do the mountain on a rocking horse.