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Page 8


  “Dance!” Kara shouted in Lee’s ear.

  He shook his head and shouted back, “I don’t dance!”

  Kara looked at him, then shrugged and danced by herself. The tight tensions and heavy pressures that continually rode her back seemed to evaporate with every move her body made. Then, during a musical interlude, Peter looked down at her and extended a hand. Without hesitation, Kara leaped up on the stage.

  “Lieutenant Kara Thrace!” Peter announced. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be singing up here. Give her a hand!”

  The crowd went wild. Lee clapped his hands politely, completely unconcerned. Kara wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He should have reacted at least a little. Peter started singing again and drew Kara into a dance, only slightly hampered by the microphone cord. Kara looked at Lee again, then got close to Peter and went into some serious hip gyrations. She felt free, like a soap bubble rising toward the stars. The crowd loved it, and Peter smiled as his voice filled the tiered garden with liquid light.

  When the song ended, Kara jumped back down to her space beside Lee. She was breathing hard and a little sweaty. “That was great!” she shouted to him over the applause. “I never thought I’d get to dance with Peter Attis!”

  “Neither did I,” Lee said.

  “You want to go up there?” she teased. “I’m sure Peter would—”

  Lee looked horrified. “No!”

  “A slower one now, folks,” Peter said on the stage. He drew up a stool and sat. “I was a prisoner of the Cylons all throughout the conflict. Hell, I had no idea there was a conflict until Kara Thrace rescued me. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that someone was watching over me, keeping me alive for a reason. I rewrote the lyrics to ‘You’re the Only One’”—the crowd cheered at the mention of the popular song—“to reflect my faith.”

  A quiet, wistful tune started up. The lights went down until only a soft spotlight illuminated Peter on his stool. He swayed a little, eyes shut, then began to sing.

  I obey you, that you know,

  Why, then, do you burn my soul?

  If you won’t look on my face,

  Where, then, shall I go?

  Without you, why would I live?

  The music swelled, and Kara felt it carry her along as if she were floating in the near-darkness of the garden. Peter slipped into the chorus.

  You’re the only one.

  You’re the only life.

  You’re the only reason

  I survive the strife.

  Kara found she was mouthing the words, singing along. So was most of the crowd. The song continued.

  No one lives this life without you.

  You’re the only lord.

  Others only show their faces

  Once you’ve possessed my soul.

  And then the chorus began again. The audience sang along in full voice. It was catchy, and the familiar tune was a piece of home. Kara found she was choking up. You’re the only reason / I survive this strife. Even Lee was singing quietly, though he didn’t seem aware he was doing so. Then Kara noticed she was holding Lee’s hand. It was big and warm. Had he taken her hand or had she taken his? She didn’t know.

  Before she could figure it out, the song ended, and Lee dropped her hand to applaud. He didn’t acknowledge the hand-holding, and Kara found that the whole thing confused her again, so she decided to ignore it, too. Peter did two more pieces before he declared he needed a break. “Fifteen-minute intermission, folks!” he said. “And I’ll come back for more, if you want it.”

  He trotted off the stage, leaving the audience to mill around, talking. Stage hands came out to fiddle with equipment. Kara grabbed Lee’s hand. “Come on!”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Backstage, doofus.” She flashed her pass. “What do you think these things are for?”

  Lee looked stubborn for a moment, then shrugged and climbed up on the stage with her. A stage hand immediately ran up to them, but Kara held up her pass and he waved them on.

  The stage was actually backed up against the main dome of the Cloud 9, so the backstage lay between the dome wall and the stage’s backdrop. A few dressing rooms and storage areas had been constructed. Kara, with Lee in tow, found Peter’s room, knocked, and entered. Peter turned from his mirror. He had removed his shirt to towel off sweat. Kara couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles moved beneath smooth skin.

  “Kara!” he said, and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek. “And Lee!” He stuck out his hand and Lee took it. They shook hands for a long moment, and Kara only belatedly realized that they were squeezing. Lee’s face was set like concrete and Peter’s eyes were starting to bulge. She sighed and stepped between, giving them both an excuse to let go.

  “Great concert so far,” she said. “Thanks for the dance.”

  “You were a great partner,” Peter said. “I don’t suppose you sing?”

  “Only if you want to kill ravens at fifty paces. Lee sings, though.”

  “Yeah?” He shot Lee a glance. “I’m looking for backup singers for my next concert, if you’re interested.”

  “Right,” Lee said. “I’ll think real hard about it.”

  “Want to watch the rest of the concert from backstage?” Peter said. “Lots of people find it interesting to see what goes on behind the scenes. Though without the usual light-and-sound extravaganza, there isn’t as much as usual.”

  “Sure!” Kara enthused.

  “Great.” He paused, then gestured at the two of them. “So how long have you and Lee been … ?”

  “We’re not,” Lee said quickly. “We’re just … this isn’t a date.”

  “Gods, no,” Kara put in. “I was engaged to Lee’s brother a few years ago, but Lee and I are just—”

  “Wonderful!” Peter said, then blushed. “I mean, not wonderful, but … uh … you know …”

  The stage manager poked his head into the room. “Two minutes, Mr. Attis.”

  “Thanks,” he said, clearly grateful for the interruption. He pulled on his shirt—a different one—and headed for the door. Then he paused to give Kara another kiss on the cheek. “I’ll watch for you.” And he left.

  “He’ll watch for you,” Lee grumbled.

  “You’re not much fun on a date,” she said, oddly pleased that he seemed jealous.

  “This isn’t a date, remember?”

  “It’s still supposed to be fun. Come on, lighten up.”

  “Long day,” he sighed. “But I’ll try.”

  They threaded their way through various stage hands and bits of equipment until they could see the stage. It was weird seeing it from the side instead of the front. Kara scanned the audience and caught sight of Commander Adama and President Roslin. They were sitting at the back on one of the upper tiers, a bit apart from the main crowd. Billy Keikeya and another aide Kara didn’t recognize hovered nearby. Kara smiled. So President Roslin had somehow bullied the Old Man into accompanying her to the concert. Kara hadn’t seriously thought she could do it. Adama, also in his dress uniform, wore an expression of resignation similar to Lee’s. Kara’s smile widened. She wondered if there would be any way for her to tease Adama about this later.

  Probably not. But it was fun to think about.

  A bit of motion caught the corner of Kara’s eye. Peter, who was waiting on the other side of the stage, was giving Kara—and, she supposed, Lee—a friendly wave. She waved back. Gods, the man had a great ass. And he was a good cheek-kisser, too.

  The lights dimmed, and the audience started cheering again. Peter ran out with his microphone, and the cheering increased in volume. A backstage technician, now visible to Kara and Lee, sat hunched over a board festooned with levers, switches, and dials. He flipped a switch and slid a lever. Music blasted from the speakers, and Peter swung into song.

  “Pretty catchy tune he did earlier,” Lee remarked. “That rewritten one?”

  “Yeah. Did you know the original?”

  “It sounded f
amiliar, but I never was—”

  “—a Peter Attis fan,” Kara finished. “I know, I know. You said it several—what the hell?”

  Lee stiffened. “What? What’s wrong?”

  Kara pointed. Over the stage arced a metal scaffold interlaced with wooden platforms. Lights and other equipment Kara couldn’t identify were bolted to it. Along the top crawled a lithe figure.

  “Frak me!” Lee said. “It’s Sharon! What the hell is she doing up there?”

  “Nothing good, I’ll bet.” Kara licked her lips nervously. “What do we do? If we raise the alarm there’ll be a panic out there.”

  “If we don’t, we’re frakked anyway. You have a weapon?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good to know we’re on equal footing,” Kara said. “Let’s go!,”

  One leg of the scaffold came right to the edge of the stage where Lee and Kara were standing. Kara climbed, the steel pipes biting into her hands. Lee scrambled up behind her. She climbed carefully, trying not to make sudden motions that would attract the attention of Sharon, Peter, or the audience. Adrenaline stabbed her heart and made it pound. Cylons were stronger and faster than humans, and Kara had no idea if she’d be able to take Sharon down without a weapon. And what the hell was she up to?

  Kara reached the top of the scaffold. Ahead of her stretched a bridge made of pipes and boards. Lights hung beneath her feet. The music and Peter’s voice pounded at her bones—he was singing a rock song with a heavy beat. Ahead of her, about halfway across the scaffold, Sharon was kneeling on the boards. As Kara cautiously stepped forward, Sharon rose and saw her. They locked eyes for a moment. Then Sharon calmly turned and trotted away.

  Kara ran forward with Lee hot on her heels. Sharon’s casual trot brought her to the edge of the scaffold by the time Lee and Kara reached the middle. Kara stopped dead, and Lee almost ran into her. At her feet lay a plastic bottle. It appeared to be full of a slushy fluid. Beside was it was a small, battery-operated heater. On principal, Kara shoved the heater away from the bottle with her foot.

  “Frak!” Lee shouted over the noise of the concert. “That’s a nitro bomb!”

  “A bottle and a heater?”

  “Nitroglycerin doesn’t explode when it’s frozen,” Lee yelled in her ear. “Once it melts, the vibrations from the music—”

  “Take care of it!” Kara shouted, and took off after Sharon, who was almost at the bottom of the scaffold by now. The Cylon jumped the remaining distance to the ground, leaped off the stage, and started shoving through the crowd. People swore and protested, but gave way. Kara could track where Sharon was by the commotion, but the audience was so large that most people didn’t notice. If Peter did, he gave no sign. There was no way Kara could catch up with her from here. Unless …

  Without stopping to think, Kara leaped out into empty space. Her grasping hands snatched at one of the many guy ropes hanging from various pulleys. Her stomach lurched, and she dropped straight toward the stage faster than she would have liked. A curtain went up as she came down, and she hit the stage with a grunt. The jarring shock traveled right up her spine to her skull.

  Peter spun to stare at her and the audience went silent, though the music kept up. Then Peter, ever the showman, went back to singing as if it were all part of the concert. Kara ran toward the edge of the stage, praying this would work. If it didn’t, she’d have an escaped Cylon and a nice collection of bruises. She shot a glance up at the scaffold. Lee was carrying the bottle toward the edge of the scaffold as if it might explode, which it might.

  Kara reached the edge of the stage and leaped off it, sailing straight down like a belly-flopper at the old watering hole. The people below her looked up in shock and Kara held her breath. At the last second, the people flung up their hands and caught her. Relief swept over Kara. The crowd cheered, and the dozens of hands supporting her started passing her toward the back of the audience. People laughed and whooped as they did so. After two people grabbed at her upper chest, however, Kara managed to roll over onto her back. It was a strange sensation, like lying on a hammock of hands. Peter waved to her as he sang, though his expression was mystified. Kara found she was moving swiftly, much faster than Sharon had gone. In moments, she was on the top tier, and the final group of concertgoers lowered her gently to her feet. Both Adama and the President were staring at her, but there was no time to explain. A stone barrier walled the concert forum off from the rest of the dome. It was dotted with revolving barred gates that let people out but not in, and Sharon was running toward one. Kara took off after her. Sharon was quicker on her feet, but the barred gate slowed her down. Kara set her mouth in grim determination. She could catch Sharon if she really hauled it.

  Sharon shoved through the revolving gate and made it through. Kara ran like hell. But instead of fleeing, Sharon snatched up a rock and wedged it beneath the gate’s axis. Kara hit the bars, but the gate refused to budge. Sharon gave Kara a small smile and turned to lope away.

  Kara smacked the bars in frustration. “Dammit!” Then she shouted desperately, “Sharon! Wait!”

  To Kara’s surprise, Sharon actually halted and turned to face her. “What?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Kara grasped the unmoving bars like a monkey in a cage. “I thought you wanted to help us.”

  Sharon walked slowly up to the gate and leaned so close Kara could smell her breath, warm and sour. “Help you? When all you’ve done is frak with me? Keep me locked up in a cage like some animal? And you wonder why we’re trying to exterminate you.”

  “Yeah, you Cylons are all about love and mercy.”

  “We are to those who deserve it,” Sharon said. “And that doesn’t seem to be you.” She turned and trotted into the trees.

  Kara slapped the bars again, but all she got for it was a bruised hand. With a growl of anger, she turned back to the forum and forced herself to think about what to do next. There had to be a phone around here somewhere.

  The next two hours turned out to be very busy. Kara had to report what had happened to someone, but Captain Shin of Cloud 9 had no idea that the Galactica had been holding a Cylon, so Kara fetched Commander Adama instead. When she explained what happened, Billy and the unnamed aide hustled Roslin away and Adama’s face went stony. He called Captain Shin and said that a “political prisoner” had managed to infiltrate Cloud 9. Security teams from both Cloud 9 and the Galactica were summoned to comb the cruise liner, but no one was hopeful. The Cloud 9 was such a popular destination that checking all traffic to and from the ship was simply impossible, and it would be easy for Sharon to slip away.

  Kara also learned that Lee had managed to get the nitro bottle to an airlock before the contents melted, and the bomb had failed to go off. If it had, Peter and a large chunk of the audience would have been killed. None of the concertgoers seemed to suspect anything had gone wrong.

  Kara sat on the edge of the stage, kicking her feet like a little kid. Overhead, the artificial sun continued to shine, though it was almost midnight—there was no darkness in the dome on Cloud 9. The grass on the tiers was already springing back from being trampled by the audience. Kara could only hope humanity would be so resilient.

  “Hi.”

  Kara looked up into Peter’s blue eyes. “Hi, yourself.”

  He sat down next to her, so close she could feel his body heat “I had a feeling you’d be here. I don’t know why. I guess the One is looking out for me.”

  “The One?”

  “Yeah. He guides my footsteps. What happened out there? I got the feeling it wasn’t just showing off.”

  Kara gave him the full rundown. Since he already knew about Caprica Sharon, there didn’t seem to be any point in keeping quiet about it, though she warned him not to spread the news around.

  “I won’t,” he said. “Wow. Uh … should I be worried?”

  Kara opened her mouth to reassure him, then stopped herself. Sugar-coating the truth never made sense. “I don’t know.
Even though this version of Sharon never met you, she tried to sabotage your concert. She might be going after you specifically or she might have just chosen it because she could hurt a lot of people all at once. I doubt she stayed on Cloud 9, but I won’t lie to you—she could still be around.”

  “Frak.” Peter glanced nervously around. “Look, could … could you walk me back to my room? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “You have a room? Frak, Peter—I forgot I was going to find you a place to stay. Where did they put you?”

  “In one of the hotels here. I’ll probably be doing a fair amount of work here for a while, so it made sense.”

  They got up and headed for one of the exits, talking as they went.

  “Where’d Lee go?” Peter asked casually.

  “Back to Galactica.” Kara pushed away a sense that he had abandoned her. “He has duty in a few hours. I don’t, so I stayed here. Nice to get away for a while.”

  “Looks like we’re all permanently getting away for a while.”

  Kara snorted. “One way to look at it.”

  A few minutes later, they were standing in a hotel corridor. Peter unlocked his door and nudged it open. Then he turned to Kara. “I never did thank you.”

  “For … ?”

  “Saving my life, of course.” He leaned down and kissed her. Her first thought—

  my gods I’m kissing Peter Attis

  —flicked through her mind, then dissolved under the kiss. Kara returned it, hungrily. After the fight with the Cylons and the pursuit of Sharon, she needed the reassurance that she was still alive, that someone would hold her. The kiss became more intense, and Kara was only vaguely aware that they were moving inside, that Peter had kicked the door shut, that they were fumbling at each other’s clothes. Moments later, they were naked beneath the sheets, and for a while Kara felt everything she needed to.