x
Adama drew his dark blue gown about him, pulled the hood up over his head and stepped out into the quiet street. He eased the heavy stone door shut behind him and, with the door shut, breathed more freely.
His house was set back in a covered walkway which resembled a cloister. There were no windows in evidence. The solid black polished door with his name in brass letters beside it presented a bold and austere front and gave no hint of the comfortable rooms and spacious garden which lay within.
Adama moved from the dark shadow beneath the arcade and out into the starlit street proper. The starlight was not paltry, for though the planet Gemon has no moon, the stars which blaze in its night sky on any clear night give a cold steely light by which travelers can find their way.
The air had the rich tang of night: a mingling of the moist breath of trees and flowers with the bitter smell of turned soil and clean coldness of air descended from mountains. It was springtime. Adama breathed deeply and set off on the long climb up through the monastery. His gown filled with the breeze and his silver sash rope swung at his side.
First he walked along a paved lane at the end of which he came to a little plaza where four thin pathways joined. The one to his left curved downhill toward a high wall in which was set an arched door. Beyond the wall and stooping over it were trees, silver-leaved in the starlight. This is the entrance to Serpentine's Garden. I don't know whether Adama looked down toward the garden, but if so then he would have seen the tauron-headed statue of Dionysos standing beyond the gate, talking to the creatures of the field, his arms spread tirelessly. The second way led down to the wharf where Callrine fishing boats were bobbing in the tide. Adama chose the third way which led right up to the right via shallow stone stairs to a steep wooden stairway. The treads boomed as he climbed. At the top of the staircase he found himself on a parapet above the sea. The parapet became a bridge and he could hear and see the glossy black waves thump and break into foam against the city wall some hundreds of feet beneath his feet. Beyond the bridge the climb became simple: a tacking back and forth along thin streets which gradually worked their ways upward to the high, lonely and exposed house where Magister Cain lived.
Before its present incarnation as the home of Great Caprica Monastery, this jamboree of buildings, holding close to the northern slopes of a mountain and enclosing a natural harbor, had been a trading city of the Callrines. It was an ancient city given by Callrine standards and the site had been occupied since the earliest days of their civilization. Today the old city is entirely occupied by the monastery and small homesteads of native Callrines occupy the hinterland. There is no rancor in this. The Callrines presented their city as a gift to the Benevolent Order and they remain among the Orders most staunch supporters.195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyIwKp1VfAN
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqdyxkrkVAI
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡReg11FFmHf
And now I will tell you something about these Callrines.
Yes, reader, they are humanoid, but the main difference between Callrines and humans is that the Callrines are generally taller and fatter than their Colonial equivalents. Even so, a Callrine male could walk unremarked through any Colonial city. A Callrine woman, however, would cause stares and probably embarrassment. The women are as tall as the men and as broad of shoulder, but the anatomical arrangement which makes them distinct from Colonial women is that they have four breasts. The upper torso of these, in accordance with the oldest customs of their planet, are generally presented naked. They also tend to have more body hair than Colonial women.
However, the most amazing fact is that the two alien races can interbreed. This fact has been taken as evidence that both Callrines and humans are descended from a single proto-race which is now thought extinct but which once was able to "seed" selected parts of our galaxy. Such a theory is widely accepted. In its absence, "as one authority commented, "there would be more chance of a human mating with a bunya tree with whom he at least shares a common genetic inheritance, than with an alien. The fact remains that Callrine males have fathered children with human women and Confrere Adama who is now climbing up through the sleeping city has four children by his Callrine wife, two sons and two daughters.195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoiX4WYoBbB
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡprBGlMdDKo
Adama climbed up stairways greasy with dew and paused at the place called Temptation. Here the street rounded a headland and was cantilevered out from the wall of the precipice in a kind of terrace. Below was the dark sea and above was the shining sky. Seats were set against the rock-face and a thin bar guarded the border of the trail.
The terrace was the much-loved place for meditation in the morning, and for lovers in the evening. From here, according to legend, a young confrere called Venal once leaped into the air and flew across the bay and landed at the shuttle port. Maybe Adama thought of him as he paused, both hands gripping the rail, and stared out through the dark air to where the lights of the shuttle port gleamed.
The shuttle port never closed and even as Adama watched, one of the shuttles with its flashing red and blue beacon, slid down an invisible track toward the reception halls.
Adama looked up. High above and glowing like a string of luminous pearls was the Caprica Platform. Standing off from that was the ghostly shape of the Canaris. The Canaris had arrived early the previous day from the distant Blind Man System carrying a cargo of machine parts and some bio-crystalline replacement equipment for the Great Caprican Monastery. Adama had piloted the great ship from its transit orbit to the Caprican Platform and had supervised the docking. In three days' time, if the schedule held true, Adama would again ascend in the shuttle and take command of the Canaris and guide it to the platforms which serviced the other main monasteries on Gemon. These are called Paradeen, Sectar, and Equellus. After these visits he would bid the Canaris goodbye and it would head back into deep space and fade away.
Standing there at the rail, Confrere Adama had a simplicity and innocence beyond time and place. To those romantically minded he might have been mistaken for one of the original simple followers of the first saint, Cyzz, adept in the ways of the fields and meadows, but hardly a scientist.
The same can be said for all of them, all the confereres who inhabit the different monasteries. In some ways they are highly trained techs, matha-techs, welders, philosophers, grease monkeys, and med-techs. As is frequently said, "The Benevolent Order turns on faith, love and technology."195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK98rSn1372
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO2RdEe6ffQ
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ9DUH2LTYs
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpya3sSRwNr
To continue with the Callrines….
The Callrines failed (avoided might be a more accurate description) to achieve a technological society based on steam or electricity. Their technology is nature-based. They are great carvers of wood and shapers of stone. They achieve their effects by rubbing rather than chipping. They work the wind on land and sea and their main occupations are farming, fishing and gourmet cooking. As a society the Callrines are static and that is their strength. They do not consider change to be a virtue. "As boring as a Callrine Rest-day" was once a common expression among the young firebrands of the Benevolent Order. And that defines the limited perspectives of some of the younger confrere.
While failing to achieve a technology much more sophisticated than block and tackle, the Callrines also failed to develop a dogmatic religion. The only supernatural powers which are given much attention or credence on their planet are the gods of the hearth, the gods of the field and the gods of the sea. In observance these are treated more as friends than as entities to be worshipped. Maybe it is for this reason that the ideals of the Benevolent Order took easy root among the Callrines: for the tenets of St. Dionysos describes a pragmatic philosophy of life rather than a mystical religion of salvation. Mysticism can look after itself.195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA5ku7LE6nL
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQswF9Fm3vK
****
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPGmUilbTqF
The city of the Callrines:
I have said that the Callrine culture is a nature culture and nowhere is that more clearly demonstrated than in their buildings. The whole city is constructed from the egg-cases of the giant Featherfin Gungneers which ply the oceans of this world. The egg-cases, which really are creatures in their own right, are either oval or square-shaped. They can be found at any time of the year floating in long strings, like linked barges. When the eggs are ready to hatch and need only the pummel of the seas to bring them to ripeness, the egg-cases split and spill their cargo into the sea. It is a scene of carnage and I have seen it many times, as the predator fish, who always follow the slowly drifting egg-cases, swarm and bite and gorge on the soft, near-to-hatching eggs. As for the egg-cases, the moment of splitting is quickly followed by their death since in the process of shedding their eggs they expose their innards to the sea. As they drift, empty, they also harden. The soft inner parts are washed away and eaten. Along any Callrine shore can be found the shiny jet-black shards of the Gungneer egg-cases. They can be worked into jewelry.
The Callrines capture the egg-cases shortly after they have disgorged the eggs and while they are still very much alive. At that time they are still flexible. They are brought to shore quickly and kept alive by a process which the Callrine people call "buttering." Then they are re-formed. Their hard but flexible cutaneous layer is cut and the rehealing is directed in whatever direction the Callrines need. Many cuts can be made and so long as the egg-case is kept clean and well fed, the healing process continues and the egg-case grows. Cutting the case in just the right places is an art I am told. A single egg-case can be made to grow into an assembly hall or a many-corridored school or a domestic house. No Callrine need ever live in more or less than a mansion. Most prefer simple dwellings.
When the egg-case, in attempting to heal itself, has grown to the necessary dimensions, it is killed. It is then lugged to whatever location has been readied for it and is joined to the other buildings. To anchor the houses, dormitories, gutting sheds, schools, restaurants, houses and what-have-yous to each other and to the bedrock, the Callrines use an organic glue which they obtain from the "feet" of giant kelp.
The house in which Adama and his wife and children lived was once, say, two thousand yahrens ago, a living creature carrying eggs. Indeed, all the buildings that make up this complex and compact city are made from the dark egg-cases. Interesting, yes?195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF33pWOUeLI
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOXO7bgTJUh
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOgkSLcvYAa
Adama watched the shuttle dock. A few moments later a companion shuttle took off and climbed slowly into the sky. Adama, feeling considerably refreshed by this pause above the restless sea, continued his climb. Any speculation he might have entertained as to why he had been summoned in this odd way was stilled as he concentrated on the climb. He was hurrying.
In his youth he would have taken pride in running up the whole slope. But now, entering his middle years, his wind was not so good and there was a fleshiness in his waist and neck and all of this slowed him. The lean and ambitious cadet had given way to the fuller and satisfied man.
He came to the final row of steps at the top of which stood the square tower occupied by Magister Cain. A brilliant light shone out briefly from the top of the tower and cut a swathe through the darkness. Cain's residence still served, as it had for generations of Callrine mariners, as a beacon. The symbolism had pleased the ancient confreres who had established the Benevolent Order on Gemon. Each Magister lived in this lighthouse.
Waiting at the top of the stairs was one of the War Children, Randa, Adama guessed, though he had no way of knowing from her appearance. She banged her stones together to attract his attention and waved at him and then retreated into the house. Adama wasted no time. He ran up the steps and through the doorway and down the corridor to the room where Magister Cain had his study. The study door stood open.
The old man was at his desk, reading. Behind him roared an open fire which was burning blue and green, showing that it had only been recently lighted. This fire provided most of the illumination in the room, the remainder coming from Callrine candles which burned brightly and gave off a sweet aroma. Two large padded chairs were placed convivially near the fire with a small table between them. Standing on the table were two glasses and a decanter of red liquor which sparkled like rubies in the bright light of the fire. Dark blue curtains closed the windows and portraits of the earlier Magisters of the Caprican Monastery stared down from the walls. Away in one corner of the room hovered a giant antique Cylon with its crest fully displayed and the name VULPA printed on its brow. A sheet of text dangled, like an absurd oblong white tongue, from a slit in its front. Clearly Cain had been dictating. In the corner opposite, partly hidden in the shadows, stood the diminutive Randa.
Cain was reading a bio-text document with a bright red border. The border signified that the document was top secret and had come from the very heart of the Benevolent Order, from Assis Central itself. As he read, Cain's lips moved. Being slightly deaf and deep in concentration, he had not noticed the arrival of Adama.
Abruptly Randa brought her stones together in a clatter of staccato raps and Magister Cain looked up. "Ah, Adama," he said, peering at the door. "At last. Come in. Come in. Close the door behind you. Come and sit down and get warm. Sorry to be so mysterious but you'll soon see the reason why."
Randa glided over to one of the seats placed near the fire and plumped the cushion and smoothed the back and beckoned to Adama. Puzzled, the confrere moved over to the chair and sat down. He had many questions to ask but none of them would form properly, and so he waited. Magister Cain was not one to beat around the bush.
The Magister joined him at the fire, unstoppered the decanter, poured two drinks and then sat back. "Sorry about all the hush-hush stuff. Not my idea. Orders from Assis. They wanted me to use a Caller." He gestured toward Randa with his head. "More confidential than the net-line, less risky. Might have woken everybody in the house. And besides.....his voice trailed away.
"Besides what?"
"Not that anyone would have listened in on purpose, of course. But we are all human, at least in our curiosity. Ignorance provides a certain---security.
Adama didn't know what to make of these remarks and so kept his mouth shut. Obviously the old man was saying less than he was thinking and trying to suggest more. "Assis Central wanted me to talk to you privately without anyone else knowing. I take it Ila did not wake up?" Adama shook his head. "Good. Well. Tonight you are going to have to make some decisions." Cain paused and looked at Adama. It was a look which could have been envy or it could have been pity. "Assis Central has sent me this." He tapped the red-edged document. They have invited you to become Commander of the Galactica."
How simple the words!195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwvV5JHipbr
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFd3OyThM4x
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9tXEZKc0je
*****195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc7rijv3hGl
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpJpzvenya9
The Galactica! Who has not heard of the Galactica? In those days that ship was the stuff of dreams and fairy tales. I think more has been written about the Galactica than any other craft fashioned by the hand of man.
The mercystar Galactica was the pride of the Benevolent Order's Mercy Fleet. The ship had taken several generations of men to build. It represented the highest ideals of craftsmanship and speculation.
Mankind needs symbols to make tangible its beliefs and hopes, whether these be flags or crosses or faces chiseled into stone. And the Galactica was a symbol of hope. It was also a statement about the beauty of mathematics and the beauty of architecture.
I will now tell you about its construction.
After the War of Stupid Fools, knowledge was dissipated and the whole structure of interstellar relations was in danger of final collapse. Humans always live only one generation away from their stone age. After the War of Stupid Fools the Confreres of the Benevolent Order traveled the known centers of civilization throughout the galaxy securing and bringing together whatever knowledge was left. They gathered libraries wherever they could find them, like beggars picking up wind-fallen fruit. (Speaking of symbols, the Library is the greatest symbol of civilization that I can think of: the knowledge of the ages, gathered together and made available.) The Galactica grew from the knowledge so gathered. It was a tangible expression of knowledge. It was to be the greatest ship ever built, the flagship of the new order. It was to be the greatest hospital ship (the benevolent order named this class mercystar) which had ever served the force which is called LIFE and which would extend the work of the Benevolent Order of St. Dionysos to the farthest reaches of outer space.
The ship was finished when Adama was a young man. Its maiden journey was from Sectar, in the Blind Man System where the ship was built, to Assis Central in the Lucy System. Since that time it has completed many trials and tests. Now it waited, tethered high above Assis, flickering slightly las it held its place in our time scheme.
Such was the character of this ship, being partly mineral and partly sentient, that it needed its commander before it could completely come into its own. The relationship is vital as we see in the relationship between a head of state and state servants. The mean beget the mean. The just beget the just. The cruel create cruelty. The kind permit growth. The sour stagnate and the happy create happiness. And so with the Galactica. The ship had the ability to become gentle and kind in the hands of a good commander or savage in the hands of a criminal.
No wonder then that the Magisters of the Benevolent Order took their time appointing a commander.195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk6nJOZzcJH
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH9IRiePqjS
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQkZ7Y6pdqM
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmEaKmdr5Qm
195Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjhfKHfV3Mk
And now, back to our story.....
Adama is facing Magister Cain. He has not said a word since receiving the terrifying news that he is invited to command the Galactica. His hand is on his glass, but he has not drunk.
Vulpa, me, the scribe-class Cylon, silent in the corner: I watch him and tremble in every electric circuit to hear the slightest response. Nothing.
If a Cylon may be allowed brief poetic license then Vulpa imagines that Adama is saying to himself, "Why me? Why me?" He says this and is receiving no reply, no answer back.
Here I think we must pause again, for you need to know more about Adama the Man if you are to understand why he was offered this horrific task. What follows is a brief biography which Adama dictated to me in Serpentine's Garden during the time of his convalescence.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
