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Chapter Seventeen: "...the picture of mandala, colored in green, pink and orange, slowly faded from the slanted surface. Six stared at it, trying to comprehend it's meaning."
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THIS OUGHT TO BE DIFFERENT
Chapter Seventeen
---
Sam felt ugly for abandoning Kara like that, but he had no more strength to withstand the pain.
As the elevator stopped on the lower level though, he forgot about his troubles for a second, as he marveled the beauty of the sight. The central column was the same as above and in the Temple hall – all with the mysterious writings and the mandalas. But the corridor was wide and immersed in soft blue-green light. At least compared to the upper level, that seemed reddish.
Sam stepped out carefully, and looked around. On eiter side of the lift there were cubicles partially obscured from view, the next room to the left was larger and open and appeared to be some kind of common room, maybe a mess-hall, the other two areas were hidden behind the column, but Sam suspected there were sleeping quarters as well, and in the one on the right he noticed tangled bed covers – obviously Major Adama was in there.
He felt he should go there, and check on Adama, but then he corrected himself -- Dualla was already there, most likely. And then the grumble in his stomach confirmed the decision to first go the the apparent mess-hall, and then, hopefully, to bed. If the Temple was kind enough to give them shelter, means of transport and comfy accomodations, perhaps it could also give them food?
He limped to the area located underneath the control center. All equipment was in soft warm shade of gray. There was an elliptic table in the center of it, and five chairs. In the walls on height of man’s strip there were five niches, about two feet high, and Sam approached one of them. There was a site shaped as a human palm.
A little hesitant, the tall man placed his palm in the hole and felt warmth as the soft pastel colors flashed briefly. For a moment nothing happened, and then the wall muttered incomprehensibly, and an opening appeared in the nishe. A bowl full of some whitish substance came out, complete with a spoonish thingie.
Sam’s stomach grumbled again, with anticipation this time. This thing certainly looked more appetizing than the green goo, and the hungry man absorbed it in few large gulps, barely making it to a chair.
Having eatten the food, Sam felt relaxed and almost happy. He stretched his limbs, and noticed his leg did not hurt any more. It shocked him and for a moment he thought he’d been miraculously healed, but no. The leg was still broken. He must have goten some sort of pain medication, though. Probably in the food. He stared at the empty bowl with amusement.
Then he carefully got up, and took off to the sleeping quarters. For a brief moment he considered a bath -- there in the far corner of the mess-hall, was something that could only be the head -- but then he thought, he’d do it after he got some well deserved sleep. He also fought the urge to return to Kara’s side, and his responsible and caring side succumbed this time to the selfish little boy. Kara would understand – he told himself.
So he entered one of the compartments, but as he did, he cast a glance into the single occupied cubicle. And then glanced farther in. Dualla wasn’t there with her husband. And it was strangely quiet there. For a few heartbits Sam couldn’t understand what was so disturbing, but then it hit him -- Lee was silent.
Completely silent.
Over the last few days he’d goten so used to the man’s raspy breathing, this silence was rather uncomfortable. It was probably some other trick of the Temple, maybe it had given the sick man some medication -- Sam tried to comfort himself, cautiously approaching the man’s bed. Lee looked deathly pale.
Fighting the surge of panic, Sam leaned and touched the Major’s wrist. Slowly lifted it, trying to find a pulse.
He couldn’t. Refused to believe there was none, serached again.
“Major. Apollo. You can’t--” whispered unaware of it. Touched the other man’s face -- it was warm. Not hot, like it used to be, but warm. “You can’t die, Lee.”
Pressed his ear to the man’s chest. The heartbeat was there. Faint and unsteady, but there nonetheless. But Sam heard no sound of breathing.
“Oh, Gods!” he begged divine intervention. Or at least a Temple to react! “Do something!”
---
After moments of hesitation and some convincing from the cylon Kara placed her hands on the flat slanted surface once again. This time she didn’t feel she asolutely shouldn’t do it, there was no foreboding. The colors danced, and she felt like finger-painting. There was the final picture in her head and she tried to reach this effect, it was exhilarating. The Temple responded to her attempts.
Six watched the pilot and the displays on the screens. She had an impression that Starbuck wasn’t really aware of the changes her movements caused, she was so immersed in her task.
One of the planets was marked now, and it’s pictures appeared on several monitors in various sizes. It was growing on each of them, changing. The line appeared around it and Six guessed it was the orbit they were going to stop at.
It didn’t take long, but apparently exhausted the pilot. Kara swayed, as the display of the orbit changed color on the screen. She lifted her palms to clutch her aching stomach and the picture of mandala, colored in green, pink and orange, slowly faded from the slanted surface.
Six stared at it, trying to comprehend the meaning of this new mandala. But Starbuck simply sighed with unfathomabe regret.
“It’s not Earth,” she whispered.
---
Dualla was waken up by nausea. She touched her aching head, and felt something sticky there. Blood.
She knew it was bad. She thought she’d been dead already, but apparently someone decided it was not her time yet. If she were to survive though, she had to return to the others, let them take care of her like she’d taken care of them so far. She had to get up and get to the elevator.
But she had no strength to get up.
She tried to crawl, but that proved to be too straining as well. She was dizzy and tired and she gave up soon. She hadn’t given up before, but now she did, and she could not understand why. Was she counting on some intervention from beyond? She believed this was the only thing that could save her now.
---
Kara leaned over the console as another hit of sickness tried to rip her intestines from her.
“I think you should rest,” Six whispered gently, laying her hand on the woman’s back. “You’re tired.”
“I’m afraid there’s more to it,” Kara whispered, before she realized what she was saying.
The thought had been right there, just behind the safety net of unawareness, for quite a while, but she hadn’t let it in so far. She couldn’t let it in. Denial was better. So she turned back to it’s safety.
But that damned cylon figured it out somehow.
“Are you pregnant?” she asked disbelievingly.
And normally Kara would respond in the negative no matter what, but the denial wasn’t firm yet, and she hesitated a heartbeat too long before stating. “No!” And she stated it a notch to loudly.
“Now I understand!” Six exclaimed. “Apollo. Do you remember the myth? Apollo was born on the floating island, but when he was born, the island got instilled. The Temple is that island from the myth, that’s what the inscriptions on the column are saying!”
“Apollo?” Kara gasped. “But Apollo is--” She gestured toward the floor, thinking of the wounded man she had weird feelings for.
“He is not the Apollo from the myth. This one is.” Six placed a hand on the woman’s belly and smiled. “This is the shape of things to come. I had been so wrong.”
---
t.b.c.
THIS OUGHT TO BE DIFFERENT
Chapter Seventeen
---
Sam felt ugly for abandoning Kara like that, but he had no more strength to withstand the pain.
As the elevator stopped on the lower level though, he forgot about his troubles for a second, as he marveled the beauty of the sight. The central column was the same as above and in the Temple hall – all with the mysterious writings and the mandalas. But the corridor was wide and immersed in soft blue-green light. At least compared to the upper level, that seemed reddish.
Sam stepped out carefully, and looked around. On eiter side of the lift there were cubicles partially obscured from view, the next room to the left was larger and open and appeared to be some kind of common room, maybe a mess-hall, the other two areas were hidden behind the column, but Sam suspected there were sleeping quarters as well, and in the one on the right he noticed tangled bed covers – obviously Major Adama was in there.
He felt he should go there, and check on Adama, but then he corrected himself -- Dualla was already there, most likely. And then the grumble in his stomach confirmed the decision to first go the the apparent mess-hall, and then, hopefully, to bed. If the Temple was kind enough to give them shelter, means of transport and comfy accomodations, perhaps it could also give them food?
He limped to the area located underneath the control center. All equipment was in soft warm shade of gray. There was an elliptic table in the center of it, and five chairs. In the walls on height of man’s strip there were five niches, about two feet high, and Sam approached one of them. There was a site shaped as a human palm.
A little hesitant, the tall man placed his palm in the hole and felt warmth as the soft pastel colors flashed briefly. For a moment nothing happened, and then the wall muttered incomprehensibly, and an opening appeared in the nishe. A bowl full of some whitish substance came out, complete with a spoonish thingie.
Sam’s stomach grumbled again, with anticipation this time. This thing certainly looked more appetizing than the green goo, and the hungry man absorbed it in few large gulps, barely making it to a chair.
Having eatten the food, Sam felt relaxed and almost happy. He stretched his limbs, and noticed his leg did not hurt any more. It shocked him and for a moment he thought he’d been miraculously healed, but no. The leg was still broken. He must have goten some sort of pain medication, though. Probably in the food. He stared at the empty bowl with amusement.
Then he carefully got up, and took off to the sleeping quarters. For a brief moment he considered a bath -- there in the far corner of the mess-hall, was something that could only be the head -- but then he thought, he’d do it after he got some well deserved sleep. He also fought the urge to return to Kara’s side, and his responsible and caring side succumbed this time to the selfish little boy. Kara would understand – he told himself.
So he entered one of the compartments, but as he did, he cast a glance into the single occupied cubicle. And then glanced farther in. Dualla wasn’t there with her husband. And it was strangely quiet there. For a few heartbits Sam couldn’t understand what was so disturbing, but then it hit him -- Lee was silent.
Completely silent.
Over the last few days he’d goten so used to the man’s raspy breathing, this silence was rather uncomfortable. It was probably some other trick of the Temple, maybe it had given the sick man some medication -- Sam tried to comfort himself, cautiously approaching the man’s bed. Lee looked deathly pale.
Fighting the surge of panic, Sam leaned and touched the Major’s wrist. Slowly lifted it, trying to find a pulse.
He couldn’t. Refused to believe there was none, serached again.
“Major. Apollo. You can’t--” whispered unaware of it. Touched the other man’s face -- it was warm. Not hot, like it used to be, but warm. “You can’t die, Lee.”
Pressed his ear to the man’s chest. The heartbeat was there. Faint and unsteady, but there nonetheless. But Sam heard no sound of breathing.
“Oh, Gods!” he begged divine intervention. Or at least a Temple to react! “Do something!”
---
After moments of hesitation and some convincing from the cylon Kara placed her hands on the flat slanted surface once again. This time she didn’t feel she asolutely shouldn’t do it, there was no foreboding. The colors danced, and she felt like finger-painting. There was the final picture in her head and she tried to reach this effect, it was exhilarating. The Temple responded to her attempts.
Six watched the pilot and the displays on the screens. She had an impression that Starbuck wasn’t really aware of the changes her movements caused, she was so immersed in her task.
One of the planets was marked now, and it’s pictures appeared on several monitors in various sizes. It was growing on each of them, changing. The line appeared around it and Six guessed it was the orbit they were going to stop at.
It didn’t take long, but apparently exhausted the pilot. Kara swayed, as the display of the orbit changed color on the screen. She lifted her palms to clutch her aching stomach and the picture of mandala, colored in green, pink and orange, slowly faded from the slanted surface.
Six stared at it, trying to comprehend the meaning of this new mandala. But Starbuck simply sighed with unfathomabe regret.
“It’s not Earth,” she whispered.
---
Dualla was waken up by nausea. She touched her aching head, and felt something sticky there. Blood.
She knew it was bad. She thought she’d been dead already, but apparently someone decided it was not her time yet. If she were to survive though, she had to return to the others, let them take care of her like she’d taken care of them so far. She had to get up and get to the elevator.
But she had no strength to get up.
She tried to crawl, but that proved to be too straining as well. She was dizzy and tired and she gave up soon. She hadn’t given up before, but now she did, and she could not understand why. Was she counting on some intervention from beyond? She believed this was the only thing that could save her now.
---
Kara leaned over the console as another hit of sickness tried to rip her intestines from her.
“I think you should rest,” Six whispered gently, laying her hand on the woman’s back. “You’re tired.”
“I’m afraid there’s more to it,” Kara whispered, before she realized what she was saying.
The thought had been right there, just behind the safety net of unawareness, for quite a while, but she hadn’t let it in so far. She couldn’t let it in. Denial was better. So she turned back to it’s safety.
But that damned cylon figured it out somehow.
“Are you pregnant?” she asked disbelievingly.
And normally Kara would respond in the negative no matter what, but the denial wasn’t firm yet, and she hesitated a heartbeat too long before stating. “No!” And she stated it a notch to loudly.
“Now I understand!” Six exclaimed. “Apollo. Do you remember the myth? Apollo was born on the floating island, but when he was born, the island got instilled. The Temple is that island from the myth, that’s what the inscriptions on the column are saying!”
“Apollo?” Kara gasped. “But Apollo is--” She gestured toward the floor, thinking of the wounded man she had weird feelings for.
“He is not the Apollo from the myth. This one is.” Six placed a hand on the woman’s belly and smiled. “This is the shape of things to come. I had been so wrong.”
---
t.b.c.
.
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