Battlestar Galactica: Original Series - 04 - The Young Warriors by Glen A. Larson;Robert Thurston

Author:Glen A. Larson;Robert Thurston
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780425053539
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1982-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

FROM MIRI'S BOOK:

Mother's face haunted me as I made way back down the iron staircase, flitted from shadow to shadow in the courtyard, and slipped through the fireplace entrance into the secret passage. She had looked so haggard, so drawn. Her eyes, even when she wasn't angry at me, were bulging. They were as round as globes. And she didn't seem to blink. I could see by the odd way she held her body, straight but not quite straight enough, that she was in terrible pain. How could I allow her to go on in such pain? How could I allow her to remain in that wretched prison cell? I didn't have to. All I had to do was leave Kyle alone, let him trade Starbuck, disobey mother. Why not? As Kordel had said, Starbuck was a warrior, he knew the consequences of his actions. It was the duty of a soldier to lay down his life if necessary. Whatever she said, that was definitely not Megan's duty.

I was confused, my head in an absolute muddle. I wanted to save Megan, but I had been told by her to prevent the trade that would save her. At the same time, I wanted to save Starbuck, didn't want Kyle to go through with his plan. Yet I was willing to look the other way, let Kyle get away with this double-cross. And what, I wondered, was in Kyle's mind. Did he really think the trade, even if it brought back our mother, was a properly heroic act? Did it fit his overblown image of himself as the leader of an army?

Alone in the secret empty passage, I felt like screaming. There was no simple answer, no revelation of logic that would miraculously allow to occur all I really wanted—to have mother back without sacrificing Starbuck, without Kyle making such a repulsive fool of himself. There was no way, it seemed, I could straighten out my world.

I passed the alcove hideaway where the colony's art works were secreted. I was not going to go in, then I felt compelled to. The picture was there, still covered. As usual, I undid the wrappings and stared for a long while at the peaceful woman on the benign unicorn, at the beautiful but threatening jungle in the background, at the bird on the branch that, on this viewing, was present. Was there an answer in a beautiful work of art like this? I thought. If Megan was to be restored and look like the woman in the painting, would everything else miraculously right itself? The colony reunited, the ideal life again striven for, the people at peace? I laughed to myself. No, I thought, there'd always be the jungle, the hidden predators. At the same time, there'd always be the lovely birds and the beautiful trees. You could have everything, but you could not just cut out that one little part of the overall picture that you wanted. You couldn't close your eyes and pretend that evil did not exist.

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