03 - Sagittarius is Bleeding (17 page)

“Does the Old Man know about this?”

“Admiral Adama approved it, yes,” he said. She noted the cold use of the full
name and rank of William Adama, as opposed to the familiar and loving nickname
of “the Old Man” that Sharon had just employed. The message was clear: Don’t
pretend to a familiarity that you’re no longer entitled to employ.

“Why did he approve it?”

“I’m not in the habit of questioning the admiral’s thinking.”

Sharon laughed again. Twice in as many minutes. “Since when? Since before or
after he declared you an enemy to the fleet and you took sides against him?”

He was about to reply, but Freya took the phone back.

“If it’s all the same to you, Lieutenant,” Freya said crisply, “I think it would be advisable if you addressed all your comments to, and
through, me from now on.”

Sharon stopped laughing and looked at Freya as if seeing her for the first
time. “Why would I do that?”

“Because he’s not your friend, Sharon. As much as you would like to believe
he is… he isn’t. None of them are. They see you as a machine. They see you as
subhuman and a threat. They all think they’re better than you are, and they only
feel comfortable when you’re behind bars. They don’t have your best interests at
heart.”

“Nice to see that you know us so well,” Lee snapped, “considering you only
met me two minutes ago, and you haven’t met anyone else.”

“I hear you complaining about my opinions, Captain, but I don’t hear you
disagreeing.” Freya lowered the phone, stood, and fixed a level gaze on him.
“But perhaps I missed a meeting somewhere. Would you care to detail for me your
history of strident advocacy for granting Sharon Valerii the freedom that your
father has deprived her of?” She waited a moment and then said, “Anytime,
Captain. Dazzle me with your track record.”

Lee said nothing, but merely glowered at her. Nodding in apparent
satisfaction, Freya sat once more and turned her attention back to Sharon, who
was intrigued by this point. “Who are you again?”

“Freya Gunnerson,” she said with no trace of impatience, as if she were
accustomed to having people repeatedly ask her who she was. “I told you: If you
desire my services, then I’m your attorney.”

“And if I don’t?”

Freya shrugged. “Then I leave. It’s as simple as that. But before I do, I
would like to ask you one question: Why would you be opposed to having someone
on your side?”

“What ‘side’ is that?”

“The side that believes you should be allowed to live your life as you see
fit,” Freya said, pouncing on the question like a lion on a deer. “The side that
believes your child shouldn’t have to be born imprisoned. And that’s another
thing, while I’m at it. The constitution of the Colonies clearly states that
anyone who is born on a particular colony becomes a citizen of that colony, with
that citizenship then extended back to the mother.”

“The Colonies were destroyed,” Lee Adama spoke up, and added with a glance at
Sharon, “by
her
kind.”

“They may have been destroyed in fact, but they continue in spirit, as the
ongoing existence of the Quorum of Twelve certainly indicates,” Freya replied
without hesitation. “I don’t see the Quorum voting to dissolve itself simply
because the worlds upon which they settled were depopulated by the Cylons. As
long as the Quorum exists, the spirit of the constitution exists. Which means
when the child is born, it becomes a citizen, with the full rights that any
citizen has. And the child’s mother will have those same rights, so all the nice
discussions about whether Sharon Valerii is human or not human and whether she
deserves the rights of a human… they all become moot.”

“You’re saying you think I have rights?” asked Sharon.

“I’m saying your incarceration here is a war crime. I’m saying they don’t
have one damned good reason not to let you walk out of here. That the longer you
remain here, the better civil suit you have against them for wrongful
imprisonment. You’ve done nothing to deserve this, nothing to warrant this sort
of treatment. And if you allow me to, I’m going to make sure everyone knows it,
and that you are accorded your full rights under the law.”

“But… what if…” She looked nervously at Lee and then back to Freya. “But
what if you make that argument about my baby and they just take that as an excuse to kill it, like they tried to
before.”

Freya shook her head and there was a satisfied smirk on her face. “They
wouldn’t dare. My understanding through my sources is that your baby’s blood
performed the miraculous healing of the president. What if she relapses? What if
someone else becomes drastically ill? How would Lee Adama feel about it if…
oh, I don’t know… Kara Thrace, one of his top pilots, suddenly discovered
she had breast cancer?”

“You leave her the frak out of this,” Lee snapped.

Freya’s smirk grew wider. Clearly she was pleased that she had gotten under
Lee’s skin so quickly. Sharon felt badly for Lee’s discomfort… and suddenly
wondered why she did. After all, he was out there and she was in here. He was
allied with those who wanted to keep Sharon locked up forever. When the soldiers
had come to try and abort her pregnancy, it had been Helo who stood in their
way, not Lee Adama.
He is not your friend…

She found herself looking at Freya with new eyes. “The point is,” the lawyer
was continuing, “they don’t dare do anything to your baby now. They might need
it for something. But if you have any interest in making sure that your child is
something other than a lab rat…”

Sharon put up a hand, her mind racing, and Freya immediately lapsed into
silence. “What’s in this for you?” she asked.

Freya laughed softly. “People keep asking me that. Lieutenant… sometimes
people just do things because they feel it’s the right thing to do. I think you
knew that, once upon a time. It could be that you’ve simply forgotten that. I
wouldn’t blame you, considering everything you’ve been put through.”

“Everything
she’s
been put through?” Lee seemed astounded. “How about
everything she’s put everyone else through?”

“My understanding, Captain, is that you’re here to observe the proceedings,
not contribute,” Freya reminded him. “If you would kindly adhere to what’s
expected of you, this would all go much faster and much more smoothly.” When Lee
didn’t reply, she tilted her head as if that settled it and once again returned
her attention to Sharon. “In any event, Lieutenant… believe it or not, I’m
just doing this because I feel it’s right.”

“I’m not entirely sure I believe you,” Sharon said.

“You don’t have to. I’m perfectly happy to let my actions prove my worth.”

“And what would those actions be? What’s the best-case scenario?”

“The best-case scenario,” Freya said, looking pleased to be discussing the
specifics of the case, “is that they throw open the door and you walk out.”

Sharon ignored the amused snort from Lee. “If they do that… I’m a dead
woman walking,” Sharon said, unaware that she was saying aloud what had been
going through Adama’s mind earlier. “You’ll be able to measure my life
expectancy in microns.”

“Not necessarily,” Freya told her. “The residents of the
Bifrost,
where I live, would offer you sanctuary.”

“I should have known,” Lee said with a roll of his eyes. “Religious
extremists.”

“I can’t say I appreciate the slander of my people or my beliefs.”

Sharon looked from one to the other in puzzlement. “Extremists? What is he—?”

Freya was about to respond, but Lee did it for her. “They don’t believe what
everyone else believes,” he called to Sharon loudly enough so that his voice
carried over the phone. “They don’t even believe in the gods. In the Lords of
Kobol.”

“Neither do I,” Sharon said.

Lee blinked in surprise. For a moment, it was as if he’d forgotten he was
staring into the face of the enemy. “You don’t?”

“Cylons believe in one god, Lee. Not many.”

“You’re kidding. Why?”

“I don’t think this is truly the time for a deep theological discussion,”
Freya interrupted. “You have to understand, Lieutenant… may I call you Sharon
…?” When Sharon nodded, she went on, “You have to understand that people such
as Captain Adama tend to see things in extremes. Either you’re with him or
against him. There’s not much tolerance for simple differing opinions. We are
not extremists. We simply believe other than what Captain Adama and his friends
believe…”

“My ‘friends’ in that instance being almost everyone else in the Colonies,”
Lee said.

“That’s as may be. But we’re not extremists. And since we’ve historically
been in the minority, we tend to be more accepting of other minorities. We have
a live-and-let-live approach. I assure you, you would be safe from harm in the
Bifrost.
You and your child would be allowed to live free, as the gods
… or god,” she included with a nod of her head toward Sharon, “intended you
to.”

“I… I don’t know,” Sharon said uncertainly.

“I think you do know,” Freya replied. She appeared sympathetic, but there was
a look of steel in her eye. “I think you already realize that I’m your first,
best chance for getting out of here. The difficult thing for you,” she added
sympathetically, “is letting go of your fading hopes that any of your old ties
to these… individuals… are going to do you any good. They are your past,
Sharon. I’m your future. Are you going to live in your past… or embrace your
future?”

“Can…” Sharon hesitated, glancing once more at Lee, and then said,
“Can I have some time to think it over?”

“Of course,” said Freya. She stood and said, “Take all the time you want. I
mean… it’s not as if you’re going anywhere.”

With that, she headed out, Lee Adama right behind her. He cast a glimpse at
Sharon over his shoulder, but she didn’t meet his eye. Instead she was staring
off into space, lost in thought, with her hand unconsciously rubbing her belly.

Laura feels at peace, for the first time in a long time. She feels at peace
because there is no question in her mind this time. The line between fantasy and
reality is clearly demarcated. She has no doubt that she is dreaming now. With
that knowledge brings peace of a kind. The recent press conference where
figments of her innermost fears were strolling around in the objective light of
day was a bit much for her. But this… this is definitely within her comfort
level.

Yet what she is experiencing is simultaneously comforting and disconcerting.

She hears a heartbeat. It is steady and rhythmic, as a heartbeat should be.
It’s difficult for her to place where it’s originating from, because everything
around her is so dark. She strains to find a light source, but none is
forthcoming. She tries to hold her hands up in front of her face, but she’s
having trouble determining whether she’s actually moving them or not. She
doesn’t quite understand why. It’s as if her mind is completely disconnected
from her body. Still, she’s not upset over the lack of light. She’s not upset
about anything. Instead she feels completely calm and content. Although all her
problems are still present in her mind, she nevertheless feels as if she hasn’t a care in the
world. She is calmer than at any other time that she can recall, and not only
that, but she feels totally protected, as if nothing out in the world can
possibly hurt her while she floats blissfully in…

Oh… you have to be kidding…

The words echo in her mind and she tries to say them aloud, but her mouth
won’t form the words.

This can’t be happening…

Seized with a determination to shake off a dream that had abruptly become far
too strange for her to continue, she starts twisting about violently. She is
suddenly relieved that she can’t see her own body since she isn’t sure she could
tolerate the bizarreness of what she is now certain she will experience. She
feels completely constricted, even though there are no ropes or any other sort
of bonds around her.

Then the environment in which she is floating begins to respond to her
struggles. There is trembling and violent vibration, and she perceives that
there are walls surrounding her, starting to close in, and pushing her down,
down through the liquid that is enveloping her…

Too weird… too weird… make it stop, gods, please…

But as much as she is repulsed by the reality of what is happening to her, or
at least what she thinks is happening to her, there is nothing that she can do
to prevent it. She tries to get a sense of herself within the context of the
dream, but she cannot. She doesn’t know whether this is something that is
supposed to be happening to her… or to someone else.

She is shoved forward, the walls contracting around her, forcing her against
her will. She seeks purchase and finds none. She continues to struggle but it
means nothing. She is leaving the warmth behind, and suddenly coldness strikes
her in the face. Laura opens her mouth, but nothing except a pathetic mewl
escapes her lips.

“Her eyes are open,” says a voice, and it’s a terribly familiar one.

The world is shifting at odd angles around her, and she is looking up into
the familiar face of Gains Baltar. She recognizes him even though he is wearing
a surgical mask over the lower half of his face. “Amazing. It’s like she’s
looking right at me.”

“It’s a girl,” the voice of Sharon Valerii moans, “I knew it would be a
girl… God… she’s covered in blood.”

“We’ll clean her off,” says Baltar. “Nurse. Come here.” He turns and, holding
Laura carefully in his blood-covered hands, he extends her to the waiting figure
of a Cylon soldier, all gleaming metal and a single, glowing red eye. Laura
screams even louder, and it’s still emerging as a babyish cry.

The Cylon takes her from Baltar. Its metal hands are cold, and Laura is
shivering from the chill and from the fear. He turns around and walks away.
Baltar is shouting for him to come back, and Sharon, who Laura can now see is
lying flat on a table with her legs splayed, is reaching out desperately and
crying for the Cylon to return her. The Cylon ignores her, walking out of the
room, and now they are outside, the Cylon striding away from a small building,
its feet clanking steadily. She is looking up at the night sky, and she
recognizes the constellations. She has seen them before. She is on Earth. She is
home.