The Lost Warrior 13 - In the Labyrinth
Title: The Lost Warrior
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
I’ve based my version of the Gemoni culture on what little we know about the ancient Minoan culture of Crete. Apparently, I’ve also added a lot of twists, just for fun. It has nothing to do with canon. But again, canon didn’t tell us a lot about Gemini, did it?
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CHAPTER 13 - IN TE LABYRINTH
As Adama rarely left New Caprica in these days, it seemed only logical in the eyes of everyone that he used his short stay in the Hatari system (due to President Darius’ Sealing) to shuttle over to new Gemini and visit the Potnia. The actual head of the Gemoni state never left the planet in peacetime, so the only way to meet her was to go where she dwelt. And Adama had things to discuss with her; things that couldn’t be entrusted anyone else, not even to the reliable Sire Ixion.
The tribe of the Gemons had various traits that set them aside from the people of the other colonies. One of those traits was a specific genetic aberration: a small mutation of the Y chromosome that resulted in the birth of identical twins, whenever the foetus was male. Well, in ninety-nine times out of a hundred. This statistical fact led to the practice of polyandry - as such twins usually had a weak telepathic bond from birth on and thus got attracted to the same women - as well as to incestual bonds between some of those twins. Both practices were sanctioned by the state and the priestesses, although any other form of incest was strictly prohibited and punished.
Female children were almost always single births, and due to the low numbers of women (compared with those of men) they were highly valued. Gemini was the only colony ruled by a female-dominated theocracy - even if it didn’t look that way from the outside. The politicians and ambassadors and councillors were always male, but the real power lay in the hands of the women, exercised through their religion.
Gemonese religion was basically dualistic. The two opposite principles it was based on - interpreted in such dual terms as light and darkness, good and bad, truth and lies, soul and body, and in many other ways - were anthropomorphized in the shape of the twin goddesses, Pallas and Hecate. The twin goddesses were incorporated by the Potnia, the high priestess, who - contrary to common belief - was not one person but a pair of identical twins. As rare as female twins were, a few could be found in every generation, and they were unexceptionally brought to the temple - the Labyrinth as it was called - to be taught and raised for the eventuality that they might be chosen to become the next Potnia.
The two aspects of the Potnia mirrored Gemonese religious dualism very clearly. One of them, always called the Pallas, was the head of the state and the curator of the Labyrinth, served by virgin priestesses and untouched herself. She was the one Adama needed to talk to, as hers was the final - and deciding - vote in every political decision.
The other one, the Hecate, was the head and the teacher of the socialators and the dean of their Academy. She was also the secret ruler of the Labyrinth, who performed ritual couplings with the king - or, in modern times, the Gemonese Quorum member - to reinstate him in his office on a regular basis. She also took visiting dignitaries to her bed to seal contracts.
Young Gemonese males, regardless of their sexual orientation, were always initiated in the Labyrinth by highly skilled socialators (called haeteras in Gemonese) before allowed to become intimate with their chosen partner. Male socialators, albeit rare, also existed, but they were restricted to the Labyrinth, and their service could only be requested from the Hecate, as they were crucial for the proper training of socialators. The Academy for socialators was also situated by the Labyrinth, of course.
Most outsiders thought that the Otori sect followed a different religion than the rest of the Gemons, as they seemed to oppose just about every official practice. Adama knew better. He’d been told long ago that the Otori were closed-minded fanatics, only willing to accept one of the goddesses: Pallas, who stood for light, virginity, reason, truth, and so on. They declared Hecate and her followers dirty whores, agents of the darkness and death, perverted criminals. They had only rejected polyandry and the incestuous bond of identical twins at first, but later they had come to reject every kind of sexual contact, unless it was sanctioned by their own priests during the sunstorm, at which time they believed Pallas could not see them.
At first sight, it seemed a fairly stupid ideology. But when Adama had studied religious history in his youth he had realized that it all came from very simple roots. The original founders of the sect had been single-born men who thought they were something better than the other males because there was only one of them. This self-declared superiority then led to the rejection of the twin principle on a religious basis. They went so far that they only allowed twin-born males among them when their twin brother had died previously. And they considered female twins as the absolute abomination.
To one of those abominations was Adama going now; to Eraklion, the capital city of New Gemini, that was situated in the mediterranean zone of the planet. Unlike the Virgons or the Librans, for example, the Gemons had a relatively large number of survivors, but not as large that they wouldn’t fit into a single settlement. And Eraklion was a settlement worth a visit for everyone, not only for people who actually had something to do there.
At this time, even a year and a half after the Colonial refugees had crossed the anomaly between galaxies, Eraklion’s construction was still far from complete. The architects from Alpha III had raised the most important buildings, leaving the details to the Deltans who’d taken over the rest. Currently, the city was growing in concentric circles from its centre.
The architecture, as Carolyn Palamas had mentioned in her report to Federation authorities, strongly reminded of that of Minoan Crete on Earth, only with the comforts of modern life and advanced technology. Human archaeologists especially delighted in Gemonese written languages - according to the general dualism upon which every aspect of Gemonese life was based, they had two different alphabets, one for sacral and one for profane use. They seemed as the advanced version of the old Minoan Linear A and Linear B scripts, which human archaeologists and linguists had never managed to decode - until now. None of those similarities were exactly surprising, of course, considering that the Minoan realm had originally been founded by the Gemoni members of the so-called Thirteenth Tribe.
Adama had often visited the Labyrinth - the sacral district of Old Gemini, which also happened to be the seat of the planetary government. He wasn’t surprised that the new Labyrinth turned out an almost exact copy of the old one. Gemons were a strictly tradition-bound people, wherever their beliefs were considered.
The residence of the Potnia(s) was a terraced villa that also happened to be the only entrance to the actual Labyrinth hidden below. The emergency escape doors of the subterranean sacral complex only allowed people out, not in. The Knossos itself, as the palace-like villa had been traditionally called since the beginnings, wasn’t all that different from the other patrician residences, at least not for the naked eye. It was a conglomerate of numerous stoas, gardens with sculptures and fountains, and its airy rooms were decorated with merry scenes in bright colours: processions, hunting scenes, scenes from the simple daily life and so on, all of them depicted with great artistic skills and obvious delight. Adama had always suspected that the sacral paintings must have been down in the Labyrinth itself, but as a non-Gemon, he never got invited there, so that remained a mere suspicion.
The Potnia - or, to be more accurate, the Pallas - the profane incarnation of the ruling power on Gemini - welcomed them in an audience chamber: a room that was veiled by heavy curtains from the prying eyes. It also seemed the only room there that was guarded. The identical-looking young men standing on both sides of the heavy, reliefed bronze doors, seemed like mere courtiers in their knee-length, brightly coloured tunics and short capes, but there was strength in their bare arms and legs, and their seemingly decorative spears were, in fact, highly sophisticated laser rifles with considerable firepower.
They allowed Adama entry without question; he was expected, after all, and well known as one of the Potnia’s reliable allies as well as an old friend of Sire Ixion. While they did cast Athena curious (not to mention appreciative) glances, they didn’t question her presence, either.
The Pallas was already waiting for them. She was a tall, slender woman of indefinable age, with a pale, smooth, ageless face, fair hair that she wore in a peculiar, turban-like hairdo, and grey eyes. She was wearing an old, traditional attire that Gemoni women only wore on great feasts in these times: several plaited skirts, each one considerably shorter than the one below it, and a short-sleeved, form-fitting waistcoat adorned with thin, golden applications in the shape of snakes. The whole thing seemed fairly uncomfortable, but she was probably long used to wearing it. It was her official ornate, after all.
She greeted her visitors in a genuinely friendly manner, expressing her pleasure that she’d finally gotten to know Athena, of whom she’d already heard a lot from Adama.
“Nonetheless, I have the feeling that this isn’t just a social visit, old friend,” she added, turning to Adama, who nodded, not the least surprised. Female Gemoni twins were known for their strong empathic powers, and well-trained in using those powers. While they couldn’t read thoughts, they were almost infallible at the interpreting of other people’s mood and feelings.
“No, indeed,” he answered. “I’ve come out of concern for our future. I have reason to fear that the uneasy alliance formed by the thousand-yahren-old struggle against the Cylons might break apart along the fracture lines of tribal interests again, now that we finally have peace. And unless we act quickly and with great care, it might happen disturbingly soon.”
The Pallas nodded thoughtfully. “I share your concern,” she said. “The signs aren’t promising. Do you know who is behind the conspiracy? Because I seriously doubt that Uri would have the necessary influence - or subtlety - to work out something that long-winded. Although Aeriana might.”
“Aeriana is impatient and not shrewd enough,” Adama replied. The Pallas thought about that for a moment.
“True,” she agreed. “What about Antiochus, then? He is old, but not half as dotardly as he’d like us to believe. And he has enough power, influence, money - andhas to keep an eye on Uri, after all.”
“And she was related to Uri’s wife, the late Siress Electra,” the Pallas nodded. “It all makes sense now. As half-Caprican, she could also take on a Caprican identity. Clever. Very clever. But again, she’s always been the greatest political manipulator of her generation. Always hiding in the background. Acting through her pawns. Never caught, not once.”
“Father,” Athena said quietly. Whom are you talking about? I never heard those names before and don’t understand a word.”
“That’s because those names aren’t meant for public use,” her father answered. “As you know, the members of the other Great Houses generally use aliases in public. Antiochus is Sire Anton, by the way. And Berenice is the woman whom we’ve falsely known as Siress Blessie.”
“That ridiculous old hag that couldn’t stop flirting with poor Chameleon?” Athena asked in surprise.
“That ‘ridiculous old hag’ was a convenient role to disguise her true identity,” her father pointed out. “Don’t let her acting fool you, Theni. She’s probably the most dangerous woman I’ve ever met. She’s shrewd, ice cold, powerful and absolutely ruthless.”
“But what could she possibly have wanted from an old fool like Chameleon?” Athena asked. “He was just a con man - granted, he totally lacked morale, but he was basically harmless. Unless, of course…” she drifted off, starting to see the possibilities.
“Unless he’s found out something Berenice wanted to remain hidden,” her father finished. “Or unless Berenice managed to find out a secret Chameleon was hiding - like his true identity, for example.”
“Would you mind telling me who this Chameleon is?” the Pallas asked. “It seems to me that there are more hidden connections than we’ve thought.”
Adama nodded and gave her a detailed summary of Chameleon’s recent activities and sudden death on the senior ship, shortly before crossing the anomaly. The Pallas listened to him without interrupting his story, her smooth face darkening with concern.
“I believe I might indeed supply some more data,” she then said. “I’ve never met this Chameleon, nor have I ever heard that name. But I do know that roughly thirty yahrens ago there was quite a scandal in the patrician circles of Leonis… one that got hurriedly smoothed over. According to my sources, however - and you know they’re always reliable - Siress Electra, the daughter of the Leonid councillor at that time, was briefly involved with a man of no rank and somewhat… unsavoury character. A Caprican con man named Proteus.”
Adama and his daughter exchanged shocked looks. The connection was unmistakable. Proteus, the shape changing sea god… the chameleon, a creature that could change its colour to meld with its surroundings for disguise…
“Chameleon?” Athena asked uncertainly.
Her father nodded. “Must have been; the character description would fit, at the very least. But there was more, wasn’t there?” he turned back to the Pallas, who nodded.
“Indeed, there is,” she replied. “Siress Electra was sent to Caprica, to the family of her uncle: the father of Berenice. And less than a yahren later, one of the young female servants left the house to bury her dead child in her home village, Nataren.”
“That’s barely a hundred kilometrons from the Thorn Forest of Umbra,” Adama murmured. “Well, it was, anyway. Just on the other side of the Forest.”
“Does this mean that Starbuck could be the bastard son of Sire Uri’s wife?” Athena was beyond shock now. “And that servant smuggled him out, instead of her dead baby, and was hiding him in Umbra?”
“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” her father replied. “We know that Chameleon was Starbuck’s biological father. We also know that Starbuck had a Leonid parent, thank to the analysis of his conserved blood samples. Since Chameleon was one hundred per cent Caprican, it had to be his mother. We know he used to live in Umbra with a woman whom we thought to be his mother, until the Cylons destroyed that little agrostation. And we know that Chameleon was supposedly looking for his son in Umbar. He also said that Starbuck’s mother was blonde, and Siress Blessie is blonde, too. So was the wife of Uri, if I remember correctly.”
“She was indeed. Siress Electra was married off to Uri soon after the events I’ve just described you,” the Pallas added. “Since they never had any children, her immense wealth went to her husband, after her death. But if there were any children, even illegitimate ones…”
“Then all her riches would go to those children, according to the matrilineal hereditary law of the Leonids,” Adama finished for her. “Someone must have figured out Starbuck’s true heritage and alerted Uri… or Berenice. That might be the reason behind Starbuck’s mysterious disappearance.”
He wasn’t going to reveal the fact that Starbuck was, in fact, very much alive. Not yet. Not even to an old and reliable ally like the Pallas.
“But how?” Athena asked. “And why at that time and not before? Starbuck wasn’t exactly hiding… he loved to be the centre of the attention.”
“Perhaps nobody knew what to look for earlier,” the Pallas said. “The House of Sire Raphael - Electra’s father,” she added for Athena’s sake, “had a small but very characteristic mark on their lower back: a birthmark, shaped like a trefoil. It’s located low enough to remain invisible, even if a pilot sits around in the barracks, shirtless. But the Triad gear is more revealing. An old servant of Raphael’s House watching a Triad game would have been enough… assuming that Lieutenant Starbuck did have such a mark.”
She looked at Athena in askance, who blushed.
“He had one,” she said, avoiding her father’s eyes.
The Pallas nodded. “Well, in that case we have a motive. Uri’s entire influence and power is based on his late wife’s wealth. Without the money - that he’d managed to save in the form of precious metals and gemstones, while leaving his wife behind to die on Leonis - he’d be nothing. Antiochus and Berenice couldn’t allow that to happen. They needed him. Oh, I don’t doubt that they’ll discard him in good time - he already knows too much. But right now, he’s still a convenient pawn for Berenice; she had to remove Lieutenant Starbuck from the equation. Not to mention the fact that after Uri’s ‘unfortunate accident’, which is only a matter of time to happen, she would get everything, being Electra’s cousin.”
“She can always provide medical proof for their relation,” Adama agreed. “Well, that certainly explains Starbuck’s fate. But it still doesn’t answer the question what Antiochus and his allies are up to.”
“I believe they’ve been working on infiltrating the planetary governments from the beginning,” the Pallas replied grimly. “They’ve certainly done good work with the Otori sect here - the sect had never had so many resources to their disposition before. I think it’s their intention to sneak in their puppets everywhere, and then forge a sector-wide empire under patrician rule - their own.”
“They’ve staked their claim shrewdly,” Adama admitted. “They’re everywhere. They have Areriana and Uri in the Cyrannus system to keep Caprica at bay, as they know that neither Telamon nor I would ever switch to their side. They’ve Antiochus himself in the Kryillian system; and Lobe, who’s practically his pet daggit.”
“And with due pressure, Tinia and Domra would crumble and submit,” the Pallas added. “President Darius and I have the Hatari system well under control here, so they have little chance here. And the Otari system is of no particular interest for them at the moment, although they could fool Belloby easily. She’s not very bright, as you know.”
“Oh, yes, I know,” Adama said ruefully. “But they’ll never manage to win over Tigh.”
“Which is the reason why you should be grateful that Sire Tigh is safely away on that Federation starship,” the Pallas said. “They wouldn’t hesitate to have him terminated, so that Libra would get a more… cooperative councillor. But as long as he’s alive and not accessible for them, they cannot do anything about Libra.”
“What about Xaviar?” Adama asked. “Does he cause you any problems here?”
“Xaviar is a dark equine,” the Pallas admitted. “A sectare ago I’d have sworn that he was on their side. The idea of a strong, centralized empire would appeal to the Sagittarian military mindset, and he’s said to have visited Scorpia not so long ago. But… I had a rather strange visit from Commander Croft, just last secton. I’m still not sure what exactly the purpose of his visit was, but I’ve got the feeling that Xaviar is trying to move away from his old allies and seeking out new alliances. He has to be subtle, of course. Antiochus wouldn’t let him go. Not alive anyway.”
“Do you believe they’d be able to harm Xaviar, Father?” Athena asked doubtfully. “No one is better guarded than the Warlord of Sagittara. Heliopolis is practically a fortress.”
“They won’t send armies against him openly,” her father replied. “A fortress, if well built and well defended, can withstand armies. But a trained assassin can slip through every net and carry out his task despite the number of guards. Especially if he - or she - doesn’t care for her own life, just for the task.”
“And we both know that Aeriana could find such assassins among the zealot Submitters if she put her mind to it,” the Pallas added. “Fanatics are always the most dangerous killers, as they are not concerned with their own survival.”
“The same could be said for the Otori sect,” Adama reminded her. The Pallas nodded.
“We know. We are being careful. The Labyrinth is shielded by priestesses with strong empathic power, aside from being trapped. Everyone who enters here is being scanned for their true intentions.”
“Even old allies like me?” Adama smiled to take the edge of the question.
“Even our own people,” the Pallas replied seriously. “No one is completely immune against human weakness. Everyone can fall, if the temptation is strong enough. In a way, this is worse than the Cylons were,” she added with genuine sadness. “At least during the war we always knew who the enemy was.”
“That is, sadly, quite true,” Adama agreed. “But at least we know now who the major players are and have an idea about some of their motives.”
“What about Viridian?” The Pallas added. Is he one of the players?”
“He’s been approached,” Adama replied slowly. “He pretended not to understand what the mediator wanted from him. But I’m not sure he’s succeeded in fooling Antiochus.”
“He might have,” the Pallas said. “His House has been known for its ignorance for generations.”
“Their ignorance has always been attitude, not lack of actual knowledge,” Adama said. “You know that and I know that - which means that Antiochus is likely to know it, too. That man is many things but not a fool. And he has a much deeper knowledge about the intricate relations between the patrician Houses of Scorpia than anyone else.”
“Then it’s a fortunate coincidence that Viridian will come to New Sagittara shortly,” the Pallas said. “He will be safe there, under Xaviar’s protection.”
“Coincidence?” Adama replied with a faint smile. “No, my dear, I do not believe in such coincidences. This either means that Antiochus trusts Xaviar completely and wants Viridian under his surveillance, or, what’s more likely, he already questions Xaviar’s loyalty and tries to use Viridian to bring him to fall.”
“Might he succeed?” The Pallas asked with a frown.
Adama shrugged. “I cannot tell. He’s subtle and patient. Fortunately, Viridian is shrewd enough. I hope he’ll be able to avoid the pitfalls.”
“You hope?” The Pallas emphasized the last word.
“I’m afraid there are no guarantees for anything,” Adama replied with a weary sigh.
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Like almost every morning in the last yahren, Darius - not Sire Darius, councillor of New Aquarius, not President Darius, the head of the Twelve Colonies, just plain Darius, the young poet and ambitious politician - woke up with the solid weight of his lover pressed against his back and a possessive arm thrown across his waist. Slowly, as if not to wake his bedmate, he turned around under the pliant weight of that arm to admire the masculine beauty of the man who’d shared his bed - his very life - for the last fourteen sectares.
In his sleep, Leandros looked younger than awake; but also more remote, as if someone - or something - had snatched him away, out of Darius’ reach. As if the enigma he truly was had only manifested itself when he was asleep.
Still, he was everything Darius had always dreamed of: slender yet strong, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with a pale skin and smooth, even features. He was a few yahrens older than Darius himself, but apparently very experienced… and he had incredible stamina. Aside from that, he was also intelligent, well educated and quick-witted (albeit with a definite cruel streak that sometimes made Darius uncomfortable), had a dry sense of humour and could bear inhumane workloads.
In other words, he was the perfect secretary and the perfect lover in one person. The best thing that could have happened to the overstressed young President who was still struggling with the demands of his office.
Of course, Darius never believed for a micron that their chance encounter right after the elections had really been a coincidence. That would have been way too convenient to be true. In fact, he was sure that someone had deliberately set Leandros on him, carefully choosing a person who would please his senses as well as prove useful for his work.
Sometimes he even doubted that Leandros was truly flit at all. He was sure that his lover secretly patronized socialators to balance out his… duties in the President’s bed. But that didn’t bother Darius too much. He still got much pleasure out of the bargain - and that on a daily basis - and Leandros dealt with the paperwork quickly and efficiently, without bothering the President with mundane details.
Well, the part of the paperwork that he got to see anyway. For despite what the old politicians might think about him, Darius was not an idealistic young fool and was careful not to allow his aide to become too influential or too well-informed. Leandros might believe otherwise, but he was still but a tool in Darius’ hand, not the other way round.
Darius knew all too well that in the power struggle among the councillors - and influential patricians behind the councillors - both sides considered him as nothing but a temporary pawn. He was willing to let them believe that they’d managed to fool him. That gave him the time and the chance to build his own alliances. It was a slow-paced game, but unlike most of the major players behind the scenes, he had time. He was young and could wait for his opportunity to strike.
Sealing with Droxine had been but a move in that game. They had arranged themselves. Fortunately for him, Droxine had no problems with living with a flit partner - on the contrary. Aside from siring her children, she had no demands for his presence in her bed. In fact, she seemed almost relieved to be left alone, with her art and music.
On the other hand, she was a valuable and sheer unlimited source of knowledge concerning Federation affairs - and willing to share. She also had excellent connections to a number of Federation words; dabbling in politics was something she seemed to enjoy, which was small wonder, considering her heritage. She could become a useful political ally - and perhaps even a friend, given enough time.
With a little regret, Darius slipped from his bed, silently wondering, as always, whether Leandros was truly asleep or just faking it. As inspiring it was to stay a step ahead of his quick-witted lover, sometimes he wished he could really trust the man. But that would have been suicidal, and he knew that. Aside from the pleasures they shared in bed, Leandros was his insurance that whoever had sent him to the President only got the information Darius allowed him to get.
Pillow talk could be a dangerous pitfall if one wasn’t careful. But it could also be a very effective weapon if used correctly. As a born artist, Darius had made it to a true artform during the recent sectares.
With a last, rueful glance at Leandros’ handsome, strangely distant face, Darius vanished in the bathroom. It was time for a shower, then for his morning run in the garden. And then, before the affairs of the state caught up with him, he would have breakfast with his wife - an excellent opportunity to discuss with her said affairs. They needed to coordinate the relations between Ardana and the New Colonies. That was one thing over which the President intended to keep control himself.
For visuals: Leandros
Chapter 14 - Pandora's Box
Author: Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
I’ve based my version of the Gemoni culture on what little we know about the ancient Minoan culture of Crete. Apparently, I’ve also added a lot of twists, just for fun. It has nothing to do with canon. But again, canon didn’t tell us a lot about Gemini, did it?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 13 - IN TE LABYRINTH
As Adama rarely left New Caprica in these days, it seemed only logical in the eyes of everyone that he used his short stay in the Hatari system (due to President Darius’ Sealing) to shuttle over to new Gemini and visit the Potnia. The actual head of the Gemoni state never left the planet in peacetime, so the only way to meet her was to go where she dwelt. And Adama had things to discuss with her; things that couldn’t be entrusted anyone else, not even to the reliable Sire Ixion.
The tribe of the Gemons had various traits that set them aside from the people of the other colonies. One of those traits was a specific genetic aberration: a small mutation of the Y chromosome that resulted in the birth of identical twins, whenever the foetus was male. Well, in ninety-nine times out of a hundred. This statistical fact led to the practice of polyandry - as such twins usually had a weak telepathic bond from birth on and thus got attracted to the same women - as well as to incestual bonds between some of those twins. Both practices were sanctioned by the state and the priestesses, although any other form of incest was strictly prohibited and punished.
Female children were almost always single births, and due to the low numbers of women (compared with those of men) they were highly valued. Gemini was the only colony ruled by a female-dominated theocracy - even if it didn’t look that way from the outside. The politicians and ambassadors and councillors were always male, but the real power lay in the hands of the women, exercised through their religion.
Gemonese religion was basically dualistic. The two opposite principles it was based on - interpreted in such dual terms as light and darkness, good and bad, truth and lies, soul and body, and in many other ways - were anthropomorphized in the shape of the twin goddesses, Pallas and Hecate. The twin goddesses were incorporated by the Potnia, the high priestess, who - contrary to common belief - was not one person but a pair of identical twins. As rare as female twins were, a few could be found in every generation, and they were unexceptionally brought to the temple - the Labyrinth as it was called - to be taught and raised for the eventuality that they might be chosen to become the next Potnia.
The two aspects of the Potnia mirrored Gemonese religious dualism very clearly. One of them, always called the Pallas, was the head of the state and the curator of the Labyrinth, served by virgin priestesses and untouched herself. She was the one Adama needed to talk to, as hers was the final - and deciding - vote in every political decision.
The other one, the Hecate, was the head and the teacher of the socialators and the dean of their Academy. She was also the secret ruler of the Labyrinth, who performed ritual couplings with the king - or, in modern times, the Gemonese Quorum member - to reinstate him in his office on a regular basis. She also took visiting dignitaries to her bed to seal contracts.
Young Gemonese males, regardless of their sexual orientation, were always initiated in the Labyrinth by highly skilled socialators (called haeteras in Gemonese) before allowed to become intimate with their chosen partner. Male socialators, albeit rare, also existed, but they were restricted to the Labyrinth, and their service could only be requested from the Hecate, as they were crucial for the proper training of socialators. The Academy for socialators was also situated by the Labyrinth, of course.
Most outsiders thought that the Otori sect followed a different religion than the rest of the Gemons, as they seemed to oppose just about every official practice. Adama knew better. He’d been told long ago that the Otori were closed-minded fanatics, only willing to accept one of the goddesses: Pallas, who stood for light, virginity, reason, truth, and so on. They declared Hecate and her followers dirty whores, agents of the darkness and death, perverted criminals. They had only rejected polyandry and the incestuous bond of identical twins at first, but later they had come to reject every kind of sexual contact, unless it was sanctioned by their own priests during the sunstorm, at which time they believed Pallas could not see them.
At first sight, it seemed a fairly stupid ideology. But when Adama had studied religious history in his youth he had realized that it all came from very simple roots. The original founders of the sect had been single-born men who thought they were something better than the other males because there was only one of them. This self-declared superiority then led to the rejection of the twin principle on a religious basis. They went so far that they only allowed twin-born males among them when their twin brother had died previously. And they considered female twins as the absolute abomination.
To one of those abominations was Adama going now; to Eraklion, the capital city of New Gemini, that was situated in the mediterranean zone of the planet. Unlike the Virgons or the Librans, for example, the Gemons had a relatively large number of survivors, but not as large that they wouldn’t fit into a single settlement. And Eraklion was a settlement worth a visit for everyone, not only for people who actually had something to do there.
At this time, even a year and a half after the Colonial refugees had crossed the anomaly between galaxies, Eraklion’s construction was still far from complete. The architects from Alpha III had raised the most important buildings, leaving the details to the Deltans who’d taken over the rest. Currently, the city was growing in concentric circles from its centre.
The architecture, as Carolyn Palamas had mentioned in her report to Federation authorities, strongly reminded of that of Minoan Crete on Earth, only with the comforts of modern life and advanced technology. Human archaeologists especially delighted in Gemonese written languages - according to the general dualism upon which every aspect of Gemonese life was based, they had two different alphabets, one for sacral and one for profane use. They seemed as the advanced version of the old Minoan Linear A and Linear B scripts, which human archaeologists and linguists had never managed to decode - until now. None of those similarities were exactly surprising, of course, considering that the Minoan realm had originally been founded by the Gemoni members of the so-called Thirteenth Tribe.
Adama had often visited the Labyrinth - the sacral district of Old Gemini, which also happened to be the seat of the planetary government. He wasn’t surprised that the new Labyrinth turned out an almost exact copy of the old one. Gemons were a strictly tradition-bound people, wherever their beliefs were considered.
The residence of the Potnia(s) was a terraced villa that also happened to be the only entrance to the actual Labyrinth hidden below. The emergency escape doors of the subterranean sacral complex only allowed people out, not in. The Knossos itself, as the palace-like villa had been traditionally called since the beginnings, wasn’t all that different from the other patrician residences, at least not for the naked eye. It was a conglomerate of numerous stoas, gardens with sculptures and fountains, and its airy rooms were decorated with merry scenes in bright colours: processions, hunting scenes, scenes from the simple daily life and so on, all of them depicted with great artistic skills and obvious delight. Adama had always suspected that the sacral paintings must have been down in the Labyrinth itself, but as a non-Gemon, he never got invited there, so that remained a mere suspicion.
The Potnia - or, to be more accurate, the Pallas - the profane incarnation of the ruling power on Gemini - welcomed them in an audience chamber: a room that was veiled by heavy curtains from the prying eyes. It also seemed the only room there that was guarded. The identical-looking young men standing on both sides of the heavy, reliefed bronze doors, seemed like mere courtiers in their knee-length, brightly coloured tunics and short capes, but there was strength in their bare arms and legs, and their seemingly decorative spears were, in fact, highly sophisticated laser rifles with considerable firepower.
They allowed Adama entry without question; he was expected, after all, and well known as one of the Potnia’s reliable allies as well as an old friend of Sire Ixion. While they did cast Athena curious (not to mention appreciative) glances, they didn’t question her presence, either.
The Pallas was already waiting for them. She was a tall, slender woman of indefinable age, with a pale, smooth, ageless face, fair hair that she wore in a peculiar, turban-like hairdo, and grey eyes. She was wearing an old, traditional attire that Gemoni women only wore on great feasts in these times: several plaited skirts, each one considerably shorter than the one below it, and a short-sleeved, form-fitting waistcoat adorned with thin, golden applications in the shape of snakes. The whole thing seemed fairly uncomfortable, but she was probably long used to wearing it. It was her official ornate, after all.
She greeted her visitors in a genuinely friendly manner, expressing her pleasure that she’d finally gotten to know Athena, of whom she’d already heard a lot from Adama.
“Nonetheless, I have the feeling that this isn’t just a social visit, old friend,” she added, turning to Adama, who nodded, not the least surprised. Female Gemoni twins were known for their strong empathic powers, and well-trained in using those powers. While they couldn’t read thoughts, they were almost infallible at the interpreting of other people’s mood and feelings.
“No, indeed,” he answered. “I’ve come out of concern for our future. I have reason to fear that the uneasy alliance formed by the thousand-yahren-old struggle against the Cylons might break apart along the fracture lines of tribal interests again, now that we finally have peace. And unless we act quickly and with great care, it might happen disturbingly soon.”
The Pallas nodded thoughtfully. “I share your concern,” she said. “The signs aren’t promising. Do you know who is behind the conspiracy? Because I seriously doubt that Uri would have the necessary influence - or subtlety - to work out something that long-winded. Although Aeriana might.”
“Aeriana is impatient and not shrewd enough,” Adama replied. The Pallas thought about that for a moment.
“True,” she agreed. “What about Antiochus, then? He is old, but not half as dotardly as he’d like us to believe. And he has enough power, influence, money - andhas to keep an eye on Uri, after all.”
“And she was related to Uri’s wife, the late Siress Electra,” the Pallas nodded. “It all makes sense now. As half-Caprican, she could also take on a Caprican identity. Clever. Very clever. But again, she’s always been the greatest political manipulator of her generation. Always hiding in the background. Acting through her pawns. Never caught, not once.”
“Father,” Athena said quietly. Whom are you talking about? I never heard those names before and don’t understand a word.”
“That’s because those names aren’t meant for public use,” her father answered. “As you know, the members of the other Great Houses generally use aliases in public. Antiochus is Sire Anton, by the way. And Berenice is the woman whom we’ve falsely known as Siress Blessie.”
“That ridiculous old hag that couldn’t stop flirting with poor Chameleon?” Athena asked in surprise.
“That ‘ridiculous old hag’ was a convenient role to disguise her true identity,” her father pointed out. “Don’t let her acting fool you, Theni. She’s probably the most dangerous woman I’ve ever met. She’s shrewd, ice cold, powerful and absolutely ruthless.”
“But what could she possibly have wanted from an old fool like Chameleon?” Athena asked. “He was just a con man - granted, he totally lacked morale, but he was basically harmless. Unless, of course…” she drifted off, starting to see the possibilities.
“Unless he’s found out something Berenice wanted to remain hidden,” her father finished. “Or unless Berenice managed to find out a secret Chameleon was hiding - like his true identity, for example.”
“Would you mind telling me who this Chameleon is?” the Pallas asked. “It seems to me that there are more hidden connections than we’ve thought.”
Adama nodded and gave her a detailed summary of Chameleon’s recent activities and sudden death on the senior ship, shortly before crossing the anomaly. The Pallas listened to him without interrupting his story, her smooth face darkening with concern.
“I believe I might indeed supply some more data,” she then said. “I’ve never met this Chameleon, nor have I ever heard that name. But I do know that roughly thirty yahrens ago there was quite a scandal in the patrician circles of Leonis… one that got hurriedly smoothed over. According to my sources, however - and you know they’re always reliable - Siress Electra, the daughter of the Leonid councillor at that time, was briefly involved with a man of no rank and somewhat… unsavoury character. A Caprican con man named Proteus.”
Adama and his daughter exchanged shocked looks. The connection was unmistakable. Proteus, the shape changing sea god… the chameleon, a creature that could change its colour to meld with its surroundings for disguise…
“Chameleon?” Athena asked uncertainly.
Her father nodded. “Must have been; the character description would fit, at the very least. But there was more, wasn’t there?” he turned back to the Pallas, who nodded.
“Indeed, there is,” she replied. “Siress Electra was sent to Caprica, to the family of her uncle: the father of Berenice. And less than a yahren later, one of the young female servants left the house to bury her dead child in her home village, Nataren.”
“That’s barely a hundred kilometrons from the Thorn Forest of Umbra,” Adama murmured. “Well, it was, anyway. Just on the other side of the Forest.”
“Does this mean that Starbuck could be the bastard son of Sire Uri’s wife?” Athena was beyond shock now. “And that servant smuggled him out, instead of her dead baby, and was hiding him in Umbra?”
“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” her father replied. “We know that Chameleon was Starbuck’s biological father. We also know that Starbuck had a Leonid parent, thank to the analysis of his conserved blood samples. Since Chameleon was one hundred per cent Caprican, it had to be his mother. We know he used to live in Umbra with a woman whom we thought to be his mother, until the Cylons destroyed that little agrostation. And we know that Chameleon was supposedly looking for his son in Umbar. He also said that Starbuck’s mother was blonde, and Siress Blessie is blonde, too. So was the wife of Uri, if I remember correctly.”
“She was indeed. Siress Electra was married off to Uri soon after the events I’ve just described you,” the Pallas added. “Since they never had any children, her immense wealth went to her husband, after her death. But if there were any children, even illegitimate ones…”
“Then all her riches would go to those children, according to the matrilineal hereditary law of the Leonids,” Adama finished for her. “Someone must have figured out Starbuck’s true heritage and alerted Uri… or Berenice. That might be the reason behind Starbuck’s mysterious disappearance.”
He wasn’t going to reveal the fact that Starbuck was, in fact, very much alive. Not yet. Not even to an old and reliable ally like the Pallas.
“But how?” Athena asked. “And why at that time and not before? Starbuck wasn’t exactly hiding… he loved to be the centre of the attention.”
“Perhaps nobody knew what to look for earlier,” the Pallas said. “The House of Sire Raphael - Electra’s father,” she added for Athena’s sake, “had a small but very characteristic mark on their lower back: a birthmark, shaped like a trefoil. It’s located low enough to remain invisible, even if a pilot sits around in the barracks, shirtless. But the Triad gear is more revealing. An old servant of Raphael’s House watching a Triad game would have been enough… assuming that Lieutenant Starbuck did have such a mark.”
She looked at Athena in askance, who blushed.
“He had one,” she said, avoiding her father’s eyes.
The Pallas nodded. “Well, in that case we have a motive. Uri’s entire influence and power is based on his late wife’s wealth. Without the money - that he’d managed to save in the form of precious metals and gemstones, while leaving his wife behind to die on Leonis - he’d be nothing. Antiochus and Berenice couldn’t allow that to happen. They needed him. Oh, I don’t doubt that they’ll discard him in good time - he already knows too much. But right now, he’s still a convenient pawn for Berenice; she had to remove Lieutenant Starbuck from the equation. Not to mention the fact that after Uri’s ‘unfortunate accident’, which is only a matter of time to happen, she would get everything, being Electra’s cousin.”
“She can always provide medical proof for their relation,” Adama agreed. “Well, that certainly explains Starbuck’s fate. But it still doesn’t answer the question what Antiochus and his allies are up to.”
“I believe they’ve been working on infiltrating the planetary governments from the beginning,” the Pallas replied grimly. “They’ve certainly done good work with the Otori sect here - the sect had never had so many resources to their disposition before. I think it’s their intention to sneak in their puppets everywhere, and then forge a sector-wide empire under patrician rule - their own.”
“They’ve staked their claim shrewdly,” Adama admitted. “They’re everywhere. They have Areriana and Uri in the Cyrannus system to keep Caprica at bay, as they know that neither Telamon nor I would ever switch to their side. They’ve Antiochus himself in the Kryillian system; and Lobe, who’s practically his pet daggit.”
“And with due pressure, Tinia and Domra would crumble and submit,” the Pallas added. “President Darius and I have the Hatari system well under control here, so they have little chance here. And the Otari system is of no particular interest for them at the moment, although they could fool Belloby easily. She’s not very bright, as you know.”
“Oh, yes, I know,” Adama said ruefully. “But they’ll never manage to win over Tigh.”
“Which is the reason why you should be grateful that Sire Tigh is safely away on that Federation starship,” the Pallas said. “They wouldn’t hesitate to have him terminated, so that Libra would get a more… cooperative councillor. But as long as he’s alive and not accessible for them, they cannot do anything about Libra.”
“What about Xaviar?” Adama asked. “Does he cause you any problems here?”
“Xaviar is a dark equine,” the Pallas admitted. “A sectare ago I’d have sworn that he was on their side. The idea of a strong, centralized empire would appeal to the Sagittarian military mindset, and he’s said to have visited Scorpia not so long ago. But… I had a rather strange visit from Commander Croft, just last secton. I’m still not sure what exactly the purpose of his visit was, but I’ve got the feeling that Xaviar is trying to move away from his old allies and seeking out new alliances. He has to be subtle, of course. Antiochus wouldn’t let him go. Not alive anyway.”
“Do you believe they’d be able to harm Xaviar, Father?” Athena asked doubtfully. “No one is better guarded than the Warlord of Sagittara. Heliopolis is practically a fortress.”
“They won’t send armies against him openly,” her father replied. “A fortress, if well built and well defended, can withstand armies. But a trained assassin can slip through every net and carry out his task despite the number of guards. Especially if he - or she - doesn’t care for her own life, just for the task.”
“And we both know that Aeriana could find such assassins among the zealot Submitters if she put her mind to it,” the Pallas added. “Fanatics are always the most dangerous killers, as they are not concerned with their own survival.”
“The same could be said for the Otori sect,” Adama reminded her. The Pallas nodded.
“We know. We are being careful. The Labyrinth is shielded by priestesses with strong empathic power, aside from being trapped. Everyone who enters here is being scanned for their true intentions.”
“Even old allies like me?” Adama smiled to take the edge of the question.
“Even our own people,” the Pallas replied seriously. “No one is completely immune against human weakness. Everyone can fall, if the temptation is strong enough. In a way, this is worse than the Cylons were,” she added with genuine sadness. “At least during the war we always knew who the enemy was.”
“That is, sadly, quite true,” Adama agreed. “But at least we know now who the major players are and have an idea about some of their motives.”
“What about Viridian?” The Pallas added. Is he one of the players?”
“He’s been approached,” Adama replied slowly. “He pretended not to understand what the mediator wanted from him. But I’m not sure he’s succeeded in fooling Antiochus.”
“He might have,” the Pallas said. “His House has been known for its ignorance for generations.”
“Their ignorance has always been attitude, not lack of actual knowledge,” Adama said. “You know that and I know that - which means that Antiochus is likely to know it, too. That man is many things but not a fool. And he has a much deeper knowledge about the intricate relations between the patrician Houses of Scorpia than anyone else.”
“Then it’s a fortunate coincidence that Viridian will come to New Sagittara shortly,” the Pallas said. “He will be safe there, under Xaviar’s protection.”
“Coincidence?” Adama replied with a faint smile. “No, my dear, I do not believe in such coincidences. This either means that Antiochus trusts Xaviar completely and wants Viridian under his surveillance, or, what’s more likely, he already questions Xaviar’s loyalty and tries to use Viridian to bring him to fall.”
“Might he succeed?” The Pallas asked with a frown.
Adama shrugged. “I cannot tell. He’s subtle and patient. Fortunately, Viridian is shrewd enough. I hope he’ll be able to avoid the pitfalls.”
“You hope?” The Pallas emphasized the last word.
“I’m afraid there are no guarantees for anything,” Adama replied with a weary sigh.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Like almost every morning in the last yahren, Darius - not Sire Darius, councillor of New Aquarius, not President Darius, the head of the Twelve Colonies, just plain Darius, the young poet and ambitious politician - woke up with the solid weight of his lover pressed against his back and a possessive arm thrown across his waist. Slowly, as if not to wake his bedmate, he turned around under the pliant weight of that arm to admire the masculine beauty of the man who’d shared his bed - his very life - for the last fourteen sectares.
In his sleep, Leandros looked younger than awake; but also more remote, as if someone - or something - had snatched him away, out of Darius’ reach. As if the enigma he truly was had only manifested itself when he was asleep.
Still, he was everything Darius had always dreamed of: slender yet strong, dark-haired and dark-eyed, with a pale skin and smooth, even features. He was a few yahrens older than Darius himself, but apparently very experienced… and he had incredible stamina. Aside from that, he was also intelligent, well educated and quick-witted (albeit with a definite cruel streak that sometimes made Darius uncomfortable), had a dry sense of humour and could bear inhumane workloads.
In other words, he was the perfect secretary and the perfect lover in one person. The best thing that could have happened to the overstressed young President who was still struggling with the demands of his office.
Of course, Darius never believed for a micron that their chance encounter right after the elections had really been a coincidence. That would have been way too convenient to be true. In fact, he was sure that someone had deliberately set Leandros on him, carefully choosing a person who would please his senses as well as prove useful for his work.
Sometimes he even doubted that Leandros was truly flit at all. He was sure that his lover secretly patronized socialators to balance out his… duties in the President’s bed. But that didn’t bother Darius too much. He still got much pleasure out of the bargain - and that on a daily basis - and Leandros dealt with the paperwork quickly and efficiently, without bothering the President with mundane details.
Well, the part of the paperwork that he got to see anyway. For despite what the old politicians might think about him, Darius was not an idealistic young fool and was careful not to allow his aide to become too influential or too well-informed. Leandros might believe otherwise, but he was still but a tool in Darius’ hand, not the other way round.
Darius knew all too well that in the power struggle among the councillors - and influential patricians behind the councillors - both sides considered him as nothing but a temporary pawn. He was willing to let them believe that they’d managed to fool him. That gave him the time and the chance to build his own alliances. It was a slow-paced game, but unlike most of the major players behind the scenes, he had time. He was young and could wait for his opportunity to strike.
Sealing with Droxine had been but a move in that game. They had arranged themselves. Fortunately for him, Droxine had no problems with living with a flit partner - on the contrary. Aside from siring her children, she had no demands for his presence in her bed. In fact, she seemed almost relieved to be left alone, with her art and music.
On the other hand, she was a valuable and sheer unlimited source of knowledge concerning Federation affairs - and willing to share. She also had excellent connections to a number of Federation words; dabbling in politics was something she seemed to enjoy, which was small wonder, considering her heritage. She could become a useful political ally - and perhaps even a friend, given enough time.
With a little regret, Darius slipped from his bed, silently wondering, as always, whether Leandros was truly asleep or just faking it. As inspiring it was to stay a step ahead of his quick-witted lover, sometimes he wished he could really trust the man. But that would have been suicidal, and he knew that. Aside from the pleasures they shared in bed, Leandros was his insurance that whoever had sent him to the President only got the information Darius allowed him to get.
Pillow talk could be a dangerous pitfall if one wasn’t careful. But it could also be a very effective weapon if used correctly. As a born artist, Darius had made it to a true artform during the recent sectares.
With a last, rueful glance at Leandros’ handsome, strangely distant face, Darius vanished in the bathroom. It was time for a shower, then for his morning run in the garden. And then, before the affairs of the state caught up with him, he would have breakfast with his wife - an excellent opportunity to discuss with her said affairs. They needed to coordinate the relations between Ardana and the New Colonies. That was one thing over which the President intended to keep control himself.
For visuals: Leandros
Chapter 14 - Pandora's Box