03 - Sagittarius is Bleeding (16 page)

“On the basis that she presents a security risk to this fleet.”

“An assertion you base on what aspect of her behavior, exactly? I’m not
asking about her lookalikes. I’m asking you what specific crimes the woman in
that cell has herself committed.”

Adama took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “None that I’m aware of,” he
admitted. “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t present a threat. Counselor, if
we’re done here…”

“We are if you say we are,” she acknowledged. “This is your boat, after all.
It’s just that I was given to believe that you were a man of honor.”

Adama’s face could have been carved of stone. “Are you questioning my honor?”

“I’m questioning what sort of man takes someone who has committed no
crime—who has served the needs of humanity every time she was asked to—and treats her as if she is the most vile of
criminals.”

“She. Isn’t. Human.”

She chuckled at that, but there was a sadness in her voice. “Isn’t that how
one group always justifies mistreating another group? By pretending they’re not
human, despite all evidence to the contrary? And because of that, they’re not
deserving of rights.”

“My heart bleeds, counselor, considering the Cylons obviously think of us as
animals to be slaughtered.”

“And we thought of them as slaves before they turned on us. No one’s hands
are clean in this one, Admiral. But certainly part of their determination to
exterminate us stems from the notion that they don’t think we’re deserving of
the right to live free… just as you judge Sharon Valerii the same way. How
are we to judge ourselves any better than the Cylons, if that’s the way we
think?”

“And you can’t treat a Cylon like Sharon Valerii as if she is a human with
the same rights as a human.”

“Convince me that she’s not human,” Freya said
challengingly “Her memories
‘transfer'? There are studies documenting humans functioning with highly
developed versions of ESP. So the Cylons have simply improved upon that which
was already a part of them. Cylons kill humans? As if humans don’t kill humans.”

“I don’t have to convince you of anything.”

Her face hardened. “Actually, Admiral, you do. See, our criminal justice
system doesn’t allow for people to be held indefinitely, with no charges brought
against them, while they’re pumped for information over alleged terrorist
activities. No civilized society would allow such behavior, I’d like to think.
In order to deprive someone of their fundamental right to liberty, the burden of proof is upon her accusers to prove that she has, in fact, done
something worth being incarcerated for. You’ve admitted to my face that Sharon
Valerii has done nothing. She’s being held for no damned good reason.”

“She is a military asset.”

“So are you, Admiral. But you’re not under armed guard and you can go
wherever you wish. The fact remains that by every measurable standard, Sharon
Valerii is a person. And all people within the Colonies have equal rights;
that’s built right into the charter of the Twelve Colonies. Your imprisonment of
Sharon Valerii is unconstitutional.”

“And you expect me to release her on the basis of this… specious claim?”
said Adama incredulously.

“No. Getting her released is my fight, to be taken up with others. But at the
very least, I should think that—in the interest of simple human decency—you
would allow me to meet with her.”

“‘Others’ can’t know about her. I don’t even want to think what would happen
if the general populace learns that she’s here.”

“If you think she’s going to remain under wraps forever, you’re deluding
yourself. I’ll wager at least several people in the Quorum probably know by now.
Or whatever marines you’ve got guarding her have told their loved ones about it,
sworn of course to strictest secrecy. But secrets have a way of getting out, and
in case you haven’t noticed, governments stink at keeping them. A casual slip of
the tongue. A few too many drinks resulting in the wrong words said within
earshot of the wrong ear. Next thing you know, this whole thing explodes in your
face.” She eased back, sounding less confrontational but no less determined.
“Look… Admiral… if you allow me to meet with her, then anything I know
about her—including her existence—becomes a matter of attorney/client privilege. I’ll keep everything to
myself. You turn me away, shut me out… there’s no reason at all for me not to
discuss whatever I know with whomever will listen.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” asked Adama, his tone fraught with danger.

“No, Admiral. That would be illegal. I’m simply explaining what will happen
if you do the right thing… and the wrong thing. This isn’t blackmail. It’s
simply endeavoring to give you an informed opinion.”

Adama’s instinct was to kick her off the ship. This woman hadn’t been there.
She didn’t understand. She hadn’t seen the look that came over Sharon Valerii’s
face as she leveled her gun at Adama’s chest and shot him at point-blank range.
If Freya Gunnerson had seen that, she wouldn’t be sitting here today claiming
that the thing down in the brig was entitled to be treated like any other human.
In fact, if she had seen Sharon Valerii coming her way, she’d probably have run
in the other direction.

Plus, on a practical level, Adama couldn’t see any way in which Sharon could
be released, if for no other reason than that it would be a death sentence for
her. Her predecessor had been gunned down. The odds were sensational that she
would meet the same fate. The only way she would avoid it would be if she was
assigned quarters and hid there for the rest of her life. What was really the
difference between that and residing in a cell?

But what kept niggling in the back of Adama’s brain was that, for all that he
was still unconvinced that Valerii was entitled to the same rights as a human… there were small shreds of truth creeping into what Freya was saying.
Valerii was part of a life form so indistinguishable from humans that she was
capable of bearing a human’s child. And the only way to tell humans from Cylons
was via a complicated blood test that he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure was reliable, although that might stem
from his fundamental distrust of Gaius Baltar.

There was one thing that William Adama was very aware of, that any military
man was aware of. And that was that there was no inherent danger in simply
talking with someone. Indeed, just about every war in humanity’s history had
stemmed from two or more sides being unable to talk to each other. So instead
they had blown the living crap out of each other until finally they had enough,
at which point they wound up talking… which, if they’d only done that in
the first place, would have spared countless lives.

Of even more recent vintage, and always fresh in Adama’s memory, was the
breakdown in communication between him and Laura Roslin that had resulted in
complete chaos, the shattering of the fleet, a military invasion that had turned
his own son against him. It was a situation that he, Adama, had instigated with
military thinking, and that he, Adama, had finally settled when he had opened
himself to genuinely listening to what Roslin had to say. Laura Roslin had far
too much class to say something as infantile as “I told you so,” and no one else
would have dared to. But Adama had been saying it to himself most every day
since then.

Freya Gunnerson wanted to talk to Sharon Valerii. She was doing so in the
interest of justice. If he stood in the way of that, what did that make him?

“All right,” he said. Surprise registered on her face, and she tried quickly
to cover it as he continued, “You may meet with her. You will remain on the
other side of the enclosure, speak to her via phone only. Furthermore, one of my
officers will be there at all times.”

“Admiral, as I mentioned, there is such a thing as lawyer/client
confidentiality.”

He wasn’t about to argue the fine points of it. “Take or leave it,” he told
her.

Freya looked as if she were about to argue the point further, but obviously
thought better of it. “I’ll take it.”

“Remain here and I’ll have it arranged.”

He rose to leave, and she automatically stood as well. Again she extended her
hand and he shook it firmly. “You’re making the right decision, Admiral.
Allowing people to talk is never a bad thing. Just imagine: If enough people
talk about the right subjects, we could actually have peace in our time.”

“We can only hope,” replied Adama.

Adama recognized the look of astonishment on Lee’s face; it very likely
mirrored the one that had been on his own when Tigh had first told him about
their new arrival.

“You want me to sit in on a lawyer meeting with Sharon?”

Adama, walking down a hallway next to Lee, nodded. “They’re down waiting at
the brig for you. I need you to head down there now.”

Lee stopped in his tracks and Adama turned, his face impassive. “Problem?”
inquired Adama.

“It’s crazy. She’s a Cylon. Cylons don’t have lawyers.”

“Apparently they do now.”

“Why me?”

“Because I want someone with a different perspective than my own watching the
two of them interact.”

“A Cylon who looked just like the one we have locked up shot my father,” Lee
reminded him unnecessarily. “What makes you think your perspective is going to
be any different than mine?”

“Because it often has been in the past. And because you’re not the one who was shot. Now head down to the brig.” When Lee, looking
conflicted, didn’t immediately move, Adama said, “That was not intended as a
request.”

With an irritated why-me sigh, Lee said, “Yes, sir,” turned away, and headed
off to do as he’d been instructed.

Sharon Valerii was lying on her bunk, slowly rubbing her hand across her
swollen belly. She’d felt the baby stirring recently. The first time she’d felt
it move, there had been the thrill of amazement that any pregnant woman feels
whenever there are the first stirrings of life within her, fluttering like the
wings of a butterfly. She felt a flare of jealousy, or at least envy, for other
women who were able to share such moments of discovery and excitement with their
husbands or lovers. Who was she going to tell? The men standing guard outside?

There was no one to care for her.

She hadn’t even told Helo, the father of her child. The poor bastard had
gotten into so much trouble over her. When that bastard officer from
Pegasus
had tried to rape her, both Helo and the chief had intervened on her behalf,
and that intervention had almost cost them their lives. Since then… well, she
hadn’t been trying to distance herself from Helo. But she wasn’t doing anything
to play upon his emotions either. She cared for him far too much to continue
pouring fuel onto the raging fire that represented his divided loyalties.
Whenever he did stop by, she saw the torment in his eyes every time he looked at
her: She was the woman he loved, and yet she was a complete stranger to him. Why
make it harder on him, just because it would make it easier on her?

She would have laughed if she hadn’t felt like crying. She knew what the
others thought of her. They believed her to be a soulless machine. She wondered what they would make of it if they knew that
she was beating herself up in an attempt to spare the feelings of others.

There was a sudden noise at the door and, as she always did, she started ever
so slightly, and her hand reflexively covered her belly protectively Sharon
never knew what was going to be coming through that door: something as innocuous
as food, or as dangerous as someone who was going to try and beat information
out of her or—even worse—take her baby from her. In the first days of her
imprisonment, she had thought she was going to lose her mind with constantly
being on edge. Eventually she had learned to tolerate it. The human ability to
adapt to circumstances, no matter how bizarre, was…

Human ability.

The Cylons firmly believed that they were far superior to humans. She knew
that some of the other models regarded her as weak because she didn’t believe
that to be true. She believed that going around thinking you’re superior is an
inherently weak attitude to have. She tolerated their contempt. She told herself
that everything she was enduring, all the misery that arose from her sustained
exposure to humans, was worth it. Perhaps if she kept telling herself that long
enough, she’d even come to believe it.

The door opened and she braced herself. The first person in was Lee Adama,
which piqued her curiosity. She hadn’t seen Lee all that much since her
incarceration, but believed him to be a bit more open minded of an individual
than his father. But she was sure she’d never be able to consider him a friend
or ally ever again, because whenever he looked at her he would see the face of
the woman who tried to kill his father. It hadn’t been her, but in the end, it
didn’t matter. She was still going to carry that stigma to her dying day…
which might come at any time, and none save Helo and Chief Tyrol, her former
lover, would mourn her.

She didn’t recognize the next person, though. It was some woman, and she
actually seemed pleased to see Sharon. In fact, there was even a look of triumph
glittering in her eye. She went straight to the phone, sat down, picked up the
receiver, and gestured for Sharon to do the same. Sharon stared at her, still
not knowing what was going on, but then she shrugged and did as she was bidden.

“Sharon Valerii?” The woman’s voice came through the phone.

It seemed a pretty silly question. Who the hell else would she be? “Yes,”
Sharon said cautiously.

“I’m Freya Gunnerson, and if you’re interested, I’d like to offer my services
as your attorney.”

Sharon laughed. Then she saw that this Freya person wasn’t laughing along
with her. Sharon turned her attention to Lee. “Did you put her up to this?”

Lee took the phone and she repeated the question. “She came here to see you,”
Lee informed her.