Deliver Us From Evil- Chapter 10
The problem Felix encountered was that there was no one he could get his information to. No one trusted him. The only person who was even the least bit likely to believe him was Cottle, but Felix couldn’t pass him information. Cottle spent a lot of time interacting with cylons, which greatly increased the likelihood that he’d be caught. Cottle was the closest thing he had to a friend anymore, and he didn’t want to put the doctor in danger.
Ishay was a little safer choice, but she was still highly at risk working in Cottle’s tent. She would, however, know a few people who might be connected to the resistance.
Felix couldn’t approach her directly. Ishay despised him, and he didn’t want to take his chances, especially with surgical instruments nearby. He could leave an anonymous note, just so long as he made sure she got it.
It was easy getting to Ishay’s work station without suspicion, since Felix was becoming somewhat of a regular around Cottle’s tent. Cottle didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes as Felix walked in.
“I wanted to get my cut checked out, if you don’t mind,” said Felix, pointing to the bandage still on his arm. The note he’d typed- he didn’t want anything handwritten in case someone recognized his writing- was in his jacket pocket. It said simply, “Garbage dump.”
Since he couldn’t directly pass information to members of the resistance, a dead drop was the only way he’d have success in telling the colonials what they needed to know. The garbage dump was the best spot for it. The cylons never paid much attention to anything that went on around the dump. Neither did any of the humans, actually. It was just a place for everyone to throw their useless old junk- broken appliances that had no place to plug in anyway, furniture that had no good use, mementos belonging to people who’d died and no one knew what else to do with. There used to be an old man who’d come by to take some of the scraps and make new things out of them, but he’d died of pneumonia in the early days of the New Caprica settlement. Now the junk just piled up, and no one did anything with it.
Because no one ever spent any time there, it was doubtful anyone would discover anything Felix left there unless they were looking for it. Everyone, humans and cylons, tended to pass by on occasion, so no one would question his presence, or the presence of any resistance members. It was the perfect spot really. As long as Ishay managed to pass the note.
“Ow!” cried Felix. Cottle had ripped the bandage off, tearing him from his thoughts.
“You’re fine. Now get out of here,” said Cottle, before marching off to the back part of the tent. “Ishay,” he said, “surgery prep. Let’s go.”
“Aye Sir,” replied Ishay, who then followed Cottle through the partition flap.
Felix smiled. Perfect timing. Glancing out the front flap to make sure no one was coming, Felix crept over to Ishay’s work station. He opened the top drawer of her medical cabinet, the one that contained bandages and her rubber gloves, and slipped the note in. She opened this drawer regularly, and was sure not to miss it. Felix then quietly shut the drawer, and checking again to make sure no one was watching, walked out of the tent.
Felix headed right away to the garbage dump. He didn’t know how long it would be before Ishay saw the note and passed it on, if she did at all, so he wanted to be sure there was something in the garbage dump as promised. In his other jacket pocket was the note he intended to leave here. It detailed the detention center shift change, when it occurred and what door would be most opportune to target. If it fell into the right hands, the resistance could take out a good number of cylons and leave the resurrection ship backed up for a while. If it fell into the wrong ones…well, Felix didn’t want to think about that.
The garbage dump was empty, just as predicted. Its only occupant was a shaggy dog named Jake that had belonged to the old man who rummaged for usable parts. He didn’t belong to anyone now, he was more or less everybody’s dog.
Felix knelt down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Hey Jake. You’re not going to rat me out for this, are you?” Jake let his tongue roll out and began panting. Felix ruffled his fur. “Good boy. I don’t know what they do to other cylons who do things like this, but I don’t want to find out.” Felix’s voice hitched. The possibilities ran through his mind of what might happen if he got caught. Various means of sadistic torture, neverending throughout his immortal life.
Felix tensed and Jake whimpered when he felt the change. “Sorry, boy,” Felix whispered to the dog. He had to do this. Had to. No matter what the consequences were for him.
Felix gave Jake one last pat on the head and walked in to the tent that held most of the junk. There was an old tool drawer there which Felix had spotted before, and like he had at Ishay’s station, he stuck the attack scenario in one of the drawers.
If Felix had been the religious type, he would have prayed that this would work. But Felix had stopped believing in the gods, or god, a long time ago, and the occupation of New Caprica only solidified his belief that there was no higher power out there.
Felix was in his tent that night anxiously lying awake. He hadn’t gone back to the dump today for fear of raising anyone’s suspicions. Not knowing whether anyone had seen the note or not was eating away at him.
“So how was your day?” asked Eight as she undressed. She wasn’t asleep either, she tended to stay awake when Felix did. She hadn’t mentioned the list all night, which only added to Felix’s anxiety.
“Fine,” said Felix. He wasn’t going to tell her anything about the drop. He didn’t trust her that much; there wasn’t anyone he could trust that much. It was far too important for anyone to know about. The occassional person out of jail he could chance, but providing cylon intelligence to the resistance made him a huge traitor to the cylons.
Felix doubled back on his thoughts. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the whole situation, if it didn’t make him feel so completely isolated. He was now equally a traitor to both sides, a double agent with no true allies. In his mission, he’d become completely alone. Then again, perhaps he’d always been.
The next day, Felix used his lunch break to head for the dump. He didn’t have any information with him, though he could have easily brought a note on curfew patrols or tillium mining operations, but he wanted to make sure his messages were being received first. The dump was empty when he arrived, aside from Jake, who sat out front panting as always. Felix walked inside to check the drawer he’d left the note in.
Felix froze when he opened the drawer. There was a piece of paper inside, when the drawer presumably should have been empty. Felix slowly reached for the piece of paper and unfolded it. It was relatively blank, which surprised him, as the sheet he’d left had been filled with notes. This wasn’t the piece of paper he’d left. One final fold undone, and Felix could read a simple note that had been left for him. “Leave a signal,” it said. He recognized the writing. He’d seen it a hundred times before, whenever reports would come up from the flight deck. Felix was one of the few people who’d managed over time to decipher the Chief’s handwriting.
The resistance had gotten his information. And with a guy like Chief receiving the intelligence, Felix was certain he’d be seeing it put to use fairly soon. A signal was a good idea. He couldn’t well leave notes in Ishay’s drawer every time he had something to pass along. Felix wasn’t in Cottle’s tent that often.
Felix walked outside with the note in his pocket. He surveyed the area around the dump for something he might be able to use as a signal whenever he had information to pass.
It didn't take long to spot the perfect signal. Leave it to the old mechanic to keep a dog bowl that was bright yellow in color. He hoped Jake wouldn’t mind.
The next morning, Felix was glaring over Baltar’s shoulder, both attempting to get Gaius to read a memorandum about a proposed human police force and trying to read it himself. The cylons now wanted to get the humans, ones other than Baltar anyway, to do their dirty work. Felix would’ve liked to think that the occupation was starting to weigh on their collective conscience, but more than likely, Felix suspected, they just wanted the resistance attacks to be directed at someone else. The memo said something about voluntary recruitment. Felix wanted to scoff. Scaring people into submission and threatening them with imprisonment or death hardly could be defined as “voluntary”. As long as the detention center loomed on the horizon, he was sure some people would do whatever it took to stay out of it.
Felix looked from the memo to Gaius. As much distaste as he had for the man, Felix had to admit that even what Baltar was doing wasn’t voluntary either. Gaius certainly didn’t waltz into meetings and sign memos with a smile on his face. Felix’s presence was proof of that; he wouldn’t still be here if Baltar was completely cooperative.
Felix mentally shook himself and went back to studying the memo. There was no room to start feeling sorry for Gaius Baltar. Even if he was being intimidated into compliance, he was still the president. Gaius might not be able to order the cylons around, but he still had access to almost as much information as Felix did. Plus, he had a cylon that seemed to care about him, who reportedly had some influence among the cylon race. He could be doing something.
Felix didn’t have time to reflect much more on it, because a Five came bursting through the door, looking sweaty and shaken. “There’s a problem,” he let out with a breath.
“What now?” asked Gaius. “Leak in the water distribution system? Broken tool at the tylium mine?” Felix rolled his eyes at the man’s insolence.
“There’s been an explosion at the detention center. It happened right as the morning shift was about to start. Six dead, twenty more wounded,” the Five reported.
Felix tried his best not to grin.