Battlestar Galactica: Original Series - 11 - The Nightmare Machine by Glen A. Larson & Thurston

Author:Glen A. Larson & Thurston [Larson, Glen A. & Thurston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Space Opera
ISBN: 9780425086186
Google: VPXVAQAACAAJ
Amazon: 0425086186
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1985-12-02T08:00:00+00:00

Apollo and Boomer gave up the documents simultaneously. Some time had passed and they both were weary of the task. Next to them, Starbuck listlessly turned pages. He had been doing that ever since Boomer had insisted he do something. However, Boomer had been forced to surreptitiously take such documents and check them out for himself when Starbuck was through with them.

"Nothing," Apollo said, throwing his last sheaf of papers into a far corner. "No correspondences, no clues."

"Maybe there's something we haven't seen," Boomer suggested.

"Boomer, we've looked at all these printouts and records at least twice apiece. We haven't missed anything. The Galactica has been functioning normally. A bit sluggish in some respects, but normally."

"Maybe that's the abnormality. How often are we functioning normally? Maybe the whole gloomy gus routine is brought on by normality."

"I don't follow," Apollo said.

"I don't care," Starbuck interjected.

"Shut up, Starbuck," Boomer said. "Listen. What if we're so used to being under the tensions of Cylon pursuit and the everyday crises of running this ship that, when we finally go get everything going right for us for a change, we don't trust it and begin to feel down because of this uncertainty. Maybe it's simply happiness that's making us gloomy."

"Ah, Boomer—" Starbuck said, disgustedly.

"No, Starbuck," Apollo said, "he might have something. But I don't know how we could prove something like that, except to let everything run its course. And I don't think Tigh would buy that as our final report. Even if it is so, we have to keep looking."

"Well, frack, it sounded good there for a micron. Perked me up, anyway."

Starbuck yawned theatrically.

"Can I go to my bunk?" he asked. "I'd like to grab some shut-eye."

"You been sleeping like it's your hobby lately," Boomer said, sarcastically.

"Get off my back!" Starbuck shouted, with a disgusted anger. "I'm just not . . . not up to par, that's all."

"Starbuck—" Boomer began, but Apollo interrupted:

"Wait! Maybe we've been tackling this problem from the wrong direction. Of the three of us, who's the worst hit?"

Apollo and Boomer scrutinized the yawning Starbuck simultaneously. His yawn stopped at half-mast when he realized what they were thinking.

"Fellas," he said, "I have no intention of being a guinea pig"

"It's an order, lieutenant," Apollo said firmly. "As my father is so fond of saying, you have no other choice."

"Yes, I have. I can go to sleep."

"Starbuck!"

"Okay, okay. But I'll remember how you pulled rank on me, Captain."

"So what? Now look, I want you to think about when you started feeling this way."

"Feeling what way?"

"Morose, gloomy, guilty . . ."

"Oh, that way."

Starbuck scowled as he sincerely considered the question.

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