"You—you lost?"
"It seems so."
"I want to talk to you about the attack when we get back. How dare you launch fighters without my express orders?"
"An aberration, I'm afraid. A malfunction. A touch of the human disease."
"The human disease?"
"I began to believe I could outthink anyone. I will need to make a systematic analysis of my behavior during your absence. I must discover where I went wrong."
"Don't worry. I'll show you."
"Yes, I'm sure you will."
"Lucifer, when I get through with you, your name will be mud. Your secret name will be mud."
"Close, but not right. Please, arch your back so I may lift you."
"Can you carry the weight?"
"I can carry any weight without feeling it. It's mass that gives me trouble. Fortunately, I made you diet."
"I cannot carry you any other way. It's only a short distance, after we leave the tomb, to my ship."
Lucifer lugged Baltar through the many corridors, paying scant attention to the man's grunts, complaints, and groans of displeasure.
Back on the base ship, after Lucifer had attended to Baltar's injuries, the man regained some of his jauntiness.
"We could make quite a team, Lucifer," he said, smiling that annoying smile.
Lucifer resisted his programming and remained silent. He did not wish to consider teaming with Baltar. He was, as a subordinate officer on the Galactica might have put it, looking for a way to snag a transfer off this rattletrap.
Table of Contents
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE