Caprica S2 at Beginning of Line is brought to you with limited commercial interruption by Avenging Angels
Previously on Caprica:
Gara Singh, now one of Caprica's Most Wanted, makes an attempt to leave Caprica - but not without several complications. (Episode Ten - posted 4/26/11)
Caprica Season 2, Episode Eleven
Gara Singh: Cloak of Deceit
Part 2 of 2
By Dóra Kecskés
Caprica City Spaceport. One would’ve thought that after the events of the last few months, which included an attempt on behalf of the STO to blow up the place, several other bomb threats, and suspicious monotheist activity, that security systems would be in place around the block, and all the guards would be prepared for anything, whether an entire STO cell, or a lone man in the shadow of the night. The people of Caprica didn't need incompetence. On the contrary, wanted the best of the best to protect them.
The one catch being that the other side wanted the best of the best to fight for their cause as well. One of them, Gara Singh, watched as marine aircraft escorted the ship he was about to board only minutes ago back to an empty runway, where the arriving GDD forces would soon begin their thorough investigation. This definitely wasn’t part of his original plan, but what else, in the name of God, has gone well that day so far, other than perfecting his methods of getting out of sticky situations --- Atlas Arena, Caprican General Hospital, the chase…
“Four is my lucky number”, he assured himself as he saw the lead agent’s car entering the gates of the spaceport with ambulances behind. If only he could’ve waited for the duty shifts, when a fellow monotheist covered the gates… But it was too late to worry about could-have-beens. He was practical in his monotheistic religion, not believing in wishes coming true by pressing the prayer button, but once in a while he wouldn’t have minded it. Singh also didn’t believe everything was a trial, lazily tossed before him by God to pass simply because he had nothing else to bother with. It was just the inconvenient way life worked: there were too many complications. It would’ve been presumptuous to assume that throughout the Twelve Colonies, Gara Singh held God's attention more than others. Still, he was sure everything was going to be all right. He was prepared for the unexpected.
Shouting, flashing lights, barrier tape and the nonstop coming and going of people around the crime scene were familiar surroundings to him. He knew precisely where to go, what places to avoid, and when to stay exactly where he was. Like this time.
His pager buzzed. He couldn’t suppress a cynical half-smile, reading his fellow STO’s message:
Such confusion – definitely your style, A. Have something for you behind Container CC-37-B.
His eyes wandered in search for any moving objects around. Nothing. Yet. At least nothing relevant, not even the two guys upstairs parading around like security guards. If he’d been in charge, Singh never would’ve left his men chattering about anything other than their work in the midst of a search for a murderer.
On the other hand, he knew better than to ignore even the most ridiculous-sounding things passersby said. Useful information dropped carelessly can be one’s demise and the other’s gain.
“Search Team-5, Search Team-1. Report!”
“Search Team-1, Search Team-5 here. Nothing yet.”
“Special… Youngblood to… teams…. evidence our guy left… dock. Maximum security measures… in place…”
He couldn’t hear everything, the two men were moving away, but it wasn’t necessary to eavesdrop any further. After an hour of search, they’ve found no one. Or more to the point, his GDD contact made sure they won’t find anyone.
After he donned a different set of clothes, placed behind the back of the container mentioned by this contact – the uniform of a systems engineer named Karl Salis on the Caprican Sun –, he quickly made it through the several barriers and cordons, though to a different flight than the one he intended to leave with, and went up the ramp as the last one out. Head down, no unnecessary stunts.
Safe, and finally out of Caprican territorial sovereignty. The plane, heading to Picon, was not a first class flight, but a commercial one without FTL capability – hardly acceptable for someone who’d rather be on the other end of the galaxy in a matter of minutes than facing a half day long trip across the stars. So many things can go down the canal in one day, he hated to think of all the possibilities from one extreme to the other, but this is how his brain worked. This is how he was trained. This is how he survived.
As soon as he wasn't attracting attention of any kind, he found himself an unused service tunnel; one he thought to be an unlikely place to hide considering its lack of space and lack of hygiene, though the other inhabitants (a few fungi and a rotting dead bug stuck in some sort of goo) certainly liked the atmosphere.
Hours passed. Singh, glad to be able to relax for the time being, slept lightly. He felt the pressure of the last day leaving his body with each breath. More than half the journey was ahead of them, which gave him enough time to prepare for the arrival and the next steps that have to be made on Picon. At any other time he’d stand on the shores, looking at the stormy horizon, breathing in the salty air, so Piconese, so unique, nowhere on the other eleven worlds could the people smell that smell. Unfortunately he had to deprive himself of the luxury and focus on not being detected. Once on Gemenon, he’d have the Reverend Mother’s ear. The prodigal son returning, she said long ago, when he was sent to Caprica. That’s how Mother referred to one of her best lieutenant’s promise of return, a day he wanted desperately at first, but accepted as a necessity later as he got accustomed to a more Caprican life. Still, a commitment is a commitment. To his faith. To the Monad Church. To the One True God.
A small, bluish gleam woke him. The corridors were not perfectly silent and from time to time a few people walked up and down, so he remained careful. The now-wanted criminal fished out an e-sheet from his uniform. The message was a short one: “Meet me here.” He had no idea if it was Clarice Willow, the Reverend Mother or a contact on the other side. The ID was encrypted, but he had to go in. He reached for his holoband, and placed it on his head.
After the shimmer, he found himself in the usual alcove.
“So far so good, Alvo. I can hold off the war hounds on Picon for a few more hours but no more than that.”
She was definitely his contact.
“You’ve been of great help. I appreciate it… Tell me, do you know anything about Clarice Willow?”
Silence. Not the usual one. It was more deafening than that. Then his contact must have made up her mind to tell, because she continued. Hearing the news, he didn’t have a hard time imagining why she hesitated.
“God spoke to Clarice declaring Apotheosis a blasphemy. Any pursuit of an artificial Heaven is against God’s wishes. Those who sin against God can’t enter Heaven.”
“Is this the stance of the Church?” Singh asked doubtfully.
“It will be,” stated the contact with more confidence than ever before.
The man furrowed his eyebrows, thinking a moment longer.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Clarice said Apotheosis was God’s will, and the Church supported it. Now Clarice says the exact opposite and we should just forget everything she’s been preaching? We have two conflicting revelations here. First, God tells Clarice Willow that it’s all right to pursue…”
“There was no such revelation. Clarice’s messianic quest for power fooled the Church.”
His contact was angry. It was highly unusual, but they were facing unusual circumstances.
“Then now…”
“This time, God has truly spoken.”
“Because Clarice tells us?” Singh had to laugh on the absurdity.
“No…”
There was an underlying danger in the sole, whispered word.
“God tells us.”
“According to her.”
“According to God.”
“To what God?”
Singh raised his voice. He'd had more than enough of Clarice Willow’s foolhardy missions of insanity and unnecessary vendettas. With each following question, his level of patience with his former employee was dissipating.
“The one Clarice made up? Or the One True God?”
“Now is not the time for questions. What had once been Clarice’s Heaven, became Hell. See it for yourself, Alvo…”
The scene shifted and Singh was alone in a place, much like the holy grounds on Gemenon. He'd been shown this before. Clarice showed them the plans for Apotheosis. But the winds began changing all around, growing stronger.
“God has abolished the right to eternal life for anyone who wishes to use the backdoor.”
The place was falling apart, statue by statue, brick by brick, the trees, the sun, the ocean, everything was changing into…
“This is Hell,” Singh stated matter-of-factly.
“It leads somewhere you wouldn’t think of in your wildest imagination. See it for yourself!”
The storm was raging everywhere as far as he could see. The sun was blocked by mist and shadow, lava and fire vomited smoke with an intensity by which what the doctor at Caprican General smoked paled in comparison. The earth was shaking beneath him and the thunder was more deafening than the earlier silence.
The one catch being that the other side wanted the best of the best to fight for their cause as well. One of them, Gara Singh, watched as marine aircraft escorted the ship he was about to board only minutes ago back to an empty runway, where the arriving GDD forces would soon begin their thorough investigation. This definitely wasn’t part of his original plan, but what else, in the name of God, has gone well that day so far, other than perfecting his methods of getting out of sticky situations --- Atlas Arena, Caprican General Hospital, the chase…
“Four is my lucky number”, he assured himself as he saw the lead agent’s car entering the gates of the spaceport with ambulances behind. If only he could’ve waited for the duty shifts, when a fellow monotheist covered the gates… But it was too late to worry about could-have-beens. He was practical in his monotheistic religion, not believing in wishes coming true by pressing the prayer button, but once in a while he wouldn’t have minded it. Singh also didn’t believe everything was a trial, lazily tossed before him by God to pass simply because he had nothing else to bother with. It was just the inconvenient way life worked: there were too many complications. It would’ve been presumptuous to assume that throughout the Twelve Colonies, Gara Singh held God's attention more than others. Still, he was sure everything was going to be all right. He was prepared for the unexpected.
Shouting, flashing lights, barrier tape and the nonstop coming and going of people around the crime scene were familiar surroundings to him. He knew precisely where to go, what places to avoid, and when to stay exactly where he was. Like this time.
His pager buzzed. He couldn’t suppress a cynical half-smile, reading his fellow STO’s message:
Such confusion – definitely your style, A. Have something for you behind Container CC-37-B.
His eyes wandered in search for any moving objects around. Nothing. Yet. At least nothing relevant, not even the two guys upstairs parading around like security guards. If he’d been in charge, Singh never would’ve left his men chattering about anything other than their work in the midst of a search for a murderer.
On the other hand, he knew better than to ignore even the most ridiculous-sounding things passersby said. Useful information dropped carelessly can be one’s demise and the other’s gain.
“Search Team-5, Search Team-1. Report!”
“Search Team-1, Search Team-5 here. Nothing yet.”
“Special… Youngblood to… teams…. evidence our guy left… dock. Maximum security measures… in place…”
He couldn’t hear everything, the two men were moving away, but it wasn’t necessary to eavesdrop any further. After an hour of search, they’ve found no one. Or more to the point, his GDD contact made sure they won’t find anyone.
After he donned a different set of clothes, placed behind the back of the container mentioned by this contact – the uniform of a systems engineer named Karl Salis on the Caprican Sun –, he quickly made it through the several barriers and cordons, though to a different flight than the one he intended to leave with, and went up the ramp as the last one out. Head down, no unnecessary stunts.
Safe, and finally out of Caprican territorial sovereignty. The plane, heading to Picon, was not a first class flight, but a commercial one without FTL capability – hardly acceptable for someone who’d rather be on the other end of the galaxy in a matter of minutes than facing a half day long trip across the stars. So many things can go down the canal in one day, he hated to think of all the possibilities from one extreme to the other, but this is how his brain worked. This is how he was trained. This is how he survived.
As soon as he wasn't attracting attention of any kind, he found himself an unused service tunnel; one he thought to be an unlikely place to hide considering its lack of space and lack of hygiene, though the other inhabitants (a few fungi and a rotting dead bug stuck in some sort of goo) certainly liked the atmosphere.
Hours passed. Singh, glad to be able to relax for the time being, slept lightly. He felt the pressure of the last day leaving his body with each breath. More than half the journey was ahead of them, which gave him enough time to prepare for the arrival and the next steps that have to be made on Picon. At any other time he’d stand on the shores, looking at the stormy horizon, breathing in the salty air, so Piconese, so unique, nowhere on the other eleven worlds could the people smell that smell. Unfortunately he had to deprive himself of the luxury and focus on not being detected. Once on Gemenon, he’d have the Reverend Mother’s ear. The prodigal son returning, she said long ago, when he was sent to Caprica. That’s how Mother referred to one of her best lieutenant’s promise of return, a day he wanted desperately at first, but accepted as a necessity later as he got accustomed to a more Caprican life. Still, a commitment is a commitment. To his faith. To the Monad Church. To the One True God.
A small, bluish gleam woke him. The corridors were not perfectly silent and from time to time a few people walked up and down, so he remained careful. The now-wanted criminal fished out an e-sheet from his uniform. The message was a short one: “Meet me here.” He had no idea if it was Clarice Willow, the Reverend Mother or a contact on the other side. The ID was encrypted, but he had to go in. He reached for his holoband, and placed it on his head.
After the shimmer, he found himself in the usual alcove.
“So far so good, Alvo. I can hold off the war hounds on Picon for a few more hours but no more than that.”
She was definitely his contact.
“You’ve been of great help. I appreciate it… Tell me, do you know anything about Clarice Willow?”
Silence. Not the usual one. It was more deafening than that. Then his contact must have made up her mind to tell, because she continued. Hearing the news, he didn’t have a hard time imagining why she hesitated.
“God spoke to Clarice declaring Apotheosis a blasphemy. Any pursuit of an artificial Heaven is against God’s wishes. Those who sin against God can’t enter Heaven.”
“Is this the stance of the Church?” Singh asked doubtfully.
“It will be,” stated the contact with more confidence than ever before.
The man furrowed his eyebrows, thinking a moment longer.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Clarice said Apotheosis was God’s will, and the Church supported it. Now Clarice says the exact opposite and we should just forget everything she’s been preaching? We have two conflicting revelations here. First, God tells Clarice Willow that it’s all right to pursue…”
“There was no such revelation. Clarice’s messianic quest for power fooled the Church.”
His contact was angry. It was highly unusual, but they were facing unusual circumstances.
“Then now…”
“This time, God has truly spoken.”
“Because Clarice tells us?” Singh had to laugh on the absurdity.
“No…”
There was an underlying danger in the sole, whispered word.
“God tells us.”
“According to her.”
“According to God.”
“To what God?”
Singh raised his voice. He'd had more than enough of Clarice Willow’s foolhardy missions of insanity and unnecessary vendettas. With each following question, his level of patience with his former employee was dissipating.
“The one Clarice made up? Or the One True God?”
“Now is not the time for questions. What had once been Clarice’s Heaven, became Hell. See it for yourself, Alvo…”
The scene shifted and Singh was alone in a place, much like the holy grounds on Gemenon. He'd been shown this before. Clarice showed them the plans for Apotheosis. But the winds began changing all around, growing stronger.
“God has abolished the right to eternal life for anyone who wishes to use the backdoor.”
The place was falling apart, statue by statue, brick by brick, the trees, the sun, the ocean, everything was changing into…
“This is Hell,” Singh stated matter-of-factly.
“It leads somewhere you wouldn’t think of in your wildest imagination. See it for yourself!”
The storm was raging everywhere as far as he could see. The sun was blocked by mist and shadow, lava and fire vomited smoke with an intensity by which what the doctor at Caprican General smoked paled in comparison. The earth was shaking beneath him and the thunder was more deafening than the earlier silence.
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“Alvo?
Then everything went back to… normal. He was sitting in the familiar alcove once more and found as he looked down that his hands were shaking.
“Alvo! Are you there?”
“What the…”, he tried to find his voice again. “What was that?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Your avatar froze for a moment.”
“A moment?”
Now it was the contact’s time to sound impatient.
“Yes. For a few seconds.”
“I… For a few seconds?”
“Is everything all right on your end?”
She realized this wasn’t just Singh mocking her.
“I don’t know… I’ve seen something. You were talking to me about Clarice, and then showed me how her Apotheosis turned into Hell!”
“Alvo, are you okay?”
Now she was truly worried, he noticed the shifting tone.
“Why?”
“No such thing has occurred. I was telling you the GDD has detected no movement.”
“That’s not what happened…”
He told everything about his experience to the undercover STO agent.
“I wish I knew what happened. I’ll find out if there’s any truth in it hidden on Caprica. Don’t worry about that. Contact the Reverend Mother. She’ll guide you on the journey.”
“I will.”
Neither of them had to say it out loud that there might have been a security breach. From now on, they had to be fast, and careful about what they were saying.
“Aside from Clarice, I wanted to tell that the Graystones had been acquitted of all charges after they’ve halted the bombing of Atlas Arena.”
“Wonderful… I’m sure Graystone is enjoying the celebrity-hero life.”
“Something like that.
“Anything else I should know?”
“Your cover is blown.”
“Anything new I should know?”
“You’re already running late for your scheduled flight. If you bump into any other problem, ask for Goran in Club Pink Moon.”
“You’re aware of…”
“Precisely… That’s why no one would search for monotheists there.”
“Good girl”, Singh smirked.
“The pack I’ve left for you has everything you will need. Fake IDs, clothing, money.”
“Toothpaste?”
“What am I, your mother?”
“If she wasn’t dead, I’d say I can’t preclude the possibility… Thank you.”
“May God be with you, Alvo.”
“May God be with you, San.”
With these words, Singh exited the V-World to find out that over ten minutes have passed, which would’ve been impossible if what his contact had said – that his “frozen state” lasted only for moments – was true. But by now he learned to trust his instincts and knew she was telling the truth. Either he experienced some kind of a glitch, or someone else - a third party - entered the conversation, somehow creating the illusion for San that only a few seconds had passed while showing him the end – or what seemed to be the end – of Apotheosis. Someone knew something, and it was news that hadn't even reached the GDD or the Monad Church. This mysterious third party may cause many troubles ahead if they’re not more careful from now on.
On Picon, it was early morning. The shadows were still long, though not offering much cover anymore to those who wished to stay out of sight. Gara Singh was glad he could finally have the chance to stretch after the long flight spent in his hiding place. The plan was to switch shoulder patches with fellow STO agent Goran, who was serving as another low level member of maintenance personnel on the Gemenon-bound freighter, Pink Moon, since the flight was already on the way.
He made sure he had everything with him, then pressed the panels on the back side of the small compartment and began his way down the service tunnels after the pilot announced they had safely landed. Singh was in no hurry, this transport wasn’t leaving for another ten minutes.
The man had to crawl and climb through a series of labyrinth-like tubes – decorated by the several thousand deckhands and maintenance workers serving aboard the ship during its long years of service with old and new pyramid stickers or the name of their loved ones, marking the fact that they worked there. Finally, Singh could stand up when he left the tunnels for an adjoining maintenance route, leading to a smaller storage room according to the map he was supplied with. He carefully slid the panel away, revealing a mostly dark room with several containers and boxes piled on top of each other. The sporadic control lights just weren’t able to cover every place. Fortunately, they proved to be enough to calculate the height of his position, which couldn’t have been more than two meters. For a trained person, like Singh, it was not an obstacle. He landed softly near one of the exits and was about to put in the right access codes to get out of there, when a voice hoarse from exhaustion called out to him from the darkness.
“Hello, Director!”
Upon his attempt to think about why this man sounded eerily familiar, everything went black.
6 hours ago…
Daniel Graystone entered his luxurious home. After a very long and tiresome day, during which he was labeled almost everything from terrorist to hero, he'd finally returned. Interviews, board meetings, rescheduling the pyramid match between his beloved Buccaneers and the Delphi Legion, more interviews, and the Prime Minister publicly pardoning and apologizing to him and Amanda… Despite all of this, the cloud of troubles was still hanging over them, like the sword of Damocles. The search for Cyrus Xander was still underway. His heart tightened at the memory of his friend taking a chance in a desperate act of self-sacrifice against Gara Singh, who has been identified as an undercover agent for the Monad Church, possibly a member of the Soldiers of the One. Later in the day, the authorities reported him missing, too.
Still, Daniel Graystone was finally at home.
“Zoe!”, he shouted. “We’re back!”
Amanda entered V-World as well.
“Zoe”, Daniel repeated her name, heading towards the sofa.
“She’s not here?”
“I’m sure she’s somewhere around. Maybe she needed some air”.
He let a tired smile spread across his face as his wife took his hand. Mere seconds later, he saw a flickering red light reflected on the window.
“I’m upstairs, daddy!”
Above their head, a smiling Zoe waved to her parents.
“We were worried, Zoe,” Amanda said, enfolding her daughter in her arms when she came down.
“I was just outside”, she smiled, and that was all that mattered to her parents.
However, if they’d looked more closely, the Graystones would’ve seen the smile was more enigmatic than they imagined.
Then everything went back to… normal. He was sitting in the familiar alcove once more and found as he looked down that his hands were shaking.
“Alvo! Are you there?”
“What the…”, he tried to find his voice again. “What was that?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. Your avatar froze for a moment.”
“A moment?”
Now it was the contact’s time to sound impatient.
“Yes. For a few seconds.”
“I… For a few seconds?”
“Is everything all right on your end?”
She realized this wasn’t just Singh mocking her.
“I don’t know… I’ve seen something. You were talking to me about Clarice, and then showed me how her Apotheosis turned into Hell!”
“Alvo, are you okay?”
Now she was truly worried, he noticed the shifting tone.
“Why?”
“No such thing has occurred. I was telling you the GDD has detected no movement.”
“That’s not what happened…”
He told everything about his experience to the undercover STO agent.
“I wish I knew what happened. I’ll find out if there’s any truth in it hidden on Caprica. Don’t worry about that. Contact the Reverend Mother. She’ll guide you on the journey.”
“I will.”
Neither of them had to say it out loud that there might have been a security breach. From now on, they had to be fast, and careful about what they were saying.
“Aside from Clarice, I wanted to tell that the Graystones had been acquitted of all charges after they’ve halted the bombing of Atlas Arena.”
“Wonderful… I’m sure Graystone is enjoying the celebrity-hero life.”
“Something like that.
“Anything else I should know?”
“Your cover is blown.”
“Anything new I should know?”
“You’re already running late for your scheduled flight. If you bump into any other problem, ask for Goran in Club Pink Moon.”
“You’re aware of…”
“Precisely… That’s why no one would search for monotheists there.”
“Good girl”, Singh smirked.
“The pack I’ve left for you has everything you will need. Fake IDs, clothing, money.”
“Toothpaste?”
“What am I, your mother?”
“If she wasn’t dead, I’d say I can’t preclude the possibility… Thank you.”
“May God be with you, Alvo.”
“May God be with you, San.”
With these words, Singh exited the V-World to find out that over ten minutes have passed, which would’ve been impossible if what his contact had said – that his “frozen state” lasted only for moments – was true. But by now he learned to trust his instincts and knew she was telling the truth. Either he experienced some kind of a glitch, or someone else - a third party - entered the conversation, somehow creating the illusion for San that only a few seconds had passed while showing him the end – or what seemed to be the end – of Apotheosis. Someone knew something, and it was news that hadn't even reached the GDD or the Monad Church. This mysterious third party may cause many troubles ahead if they’re not more careful from now on.
On Picon, it was early morning. The shadows were still long, though not offering much cover anymore to those who wished to stay out of sight. Gara Singh was glad he could finally have the chance to stretch after the long flight spent in his hiding place. The plan was to switch shoulder patches with fellow STO agent Goran, who was serving as another low level member of maintenance personnel on the Gemenon-bound freighter, Pink Moon, since the flight was already on the way.
He made sure he had everything with him, then pressed the panels on the back side of the small compartment and began his way down the service tunnels after the pilot announced they had safely landed. Singh was in no hurry, this transport wasn’t leaving for another ten minutes.
The man had to crawl and climb through a series of labyrinth-like tubes – decorated by the several thousand deckhands and maintenance workers serving aboard the ship during its long years of service with old and new pyramid stickers or the name of their loved ones, marking the fact that they worked there. Finally, Singh could stand up when he left the tunnels for an adjoining maintenance route, leading to a smaller storage room according to the map he was supplied with. He carefully slid the panel away, revealing a mostly dark room with several containers and boxes piled on top of each other. The sporadic control lights just weren’t able to cover every place. Fortunately, they proved to be enough to calculate the height of his position, which couldn’t have been more than two meters. For a trained person, like Singh, it was not an obstacle. He landed softly near one of the exits and was about to put in the right access codes to get out of there, when a voice hoarse from exhaustion called out to him from the darkness.
“Hello, Director!”
Upon his attempt to think about why this man sounded eerily familiar, everything went black.
6 hours ago…
Daniel Graystone entered his luxurious home. After a very long and tiresome day, during which he was labeled almost everything from terrorist to hero, he'd finally returned. Interviews, board meetings, rescheduling the pyramid match between his beloved Buccaneers and the Delphi Legion, more interviews, and the Prime Minister publicly pardoning and apologizing to him and Amanda… Despite all of this, the cloud of troubles was still hanging over them, like the sword of Damocles. The search for Cyrus Xander was still underway. His heart tightened at the memory of his friend taking a chance in a desperate act of self-sacrifice against Gara Singh, who has been identified as an undercover agent for the Monad Church, possibly a member of the Soldiers of the One. Later in the day, the authorities reported him missing, too.
Still, Daniel Graystone was finally at home.
“Zoe!”, he shouted. “We’re back!”
Amanda entered V-World as well.
“Zoe”, Daniel repeated her name, heading towards the sofa.
“She’s not here?”
“I’m sure she’s somewhere around. Maybe she needed some air”.
He let a tired smile spread across his face as his wife took his hand. Mere seconds later, he saw a flickering red light reflected on the window.
“I’m upstairs, daddy!”
Above their head, a smiling Zoe waved to her parents.
“We were worried, Zoe,” Amanda said, enfolding her daughter in her arms when she came down.
“I was just outside”, she smiled, and that was all that mattered to her parents.
However, if they’d looked more closely, the Graystones would’ve seen the smile was more enigmatic than they imagined.
Caprica ©2010, Syfy. A Division of NBC Universal.
Beginning of Line is a fan site with no affiliation to Caprica, Syfy, or NBC Universal. You should totes know that.
And "Gara Singh: Cloak of Deceit" belongs to Dóra Kecskés. No, the characters aren't hers, and she can't get paid for it, but if you want to reprint it anywhere, it'd be nice if you asked.
Beginning of Line is a fan site with no affiliation to Caprica, Syfy, or NBC Universal. You should totes know that.
And "Gara Singh: Cloak of Deceit" belongs to Dóra Kecskés. No, the characters aren't hers, and she can't get paid for it, but if you want to reprint it anywhere, it'd be nice if you asked.