Chapter 2
"Tell me, Miss Hampton, what is the current situation on the Sakai problem?" "Everything is proceeding as you planned, sir. Her partner was killed, and Sakai escaped. We have her under surveillance, and she is currently heading for Dome Three."
"Hmm…. is there any likely indication of why she is going there?"
"Little accurate information. Records do show that Miss Sakai has several friends and associates there. One in particular has some influence and a little power. A Miss Julie Musante. A former member of the Ministry for the Interior and currently a private lawyer specialising in interstellar commercial law…."
"Yes, yes, Miss Hampton. Thank you for your information. Maintain surveillance on Miss Sakai and inform our agents in Dome Three. Also…. establish a base of operations somewhere near Miss Musante's residence."
"Yes, sir."
The conversation ended and the man sat back, stretching out in his chair, the one item of luxury in an otherwise spartan office. "You see, Mr. Zento. Everything is going according to plan."
"I still don't see the point of this, sir," replied a man many would identify as being one of the richest and most influential in what remained of the Earth Alliance. "Surely we could have managed this with much less effort…."
"Oh, if it was just our own concerns involved, then yes, of course we could. But…. we are working on orders from a different source here, Mr. Zento, and they, for whatever reason, want Miss Sakai put through the proverbial wringer. We can only assume that their reasons are important and do as we are told. Everyone, Mr. Zento, answers to somebody, and I am no exception. Do you understand?"
"Of course I do, sir."
"Good. I am glad this is going so well thus far. I had anticipated it being much harder. Oh well, sometimes the Gods smile on us. If not on others…. Wouldn't you agree?"
"I'm an atheist, sir."
"Ah, that is a pity. One should always have something to believe in, Mr. Zento. Something to pray to, something to curse…."
"If you say so, sir."
"Ah." He fell silent. "Ah," he repeated, more sadly than before.
Both of them resumed their waiting.
* * *
"This is a beautiful place."
Delenn looked at her companion thoughtfully. For all that Valen — or Jeffrey Sinclair — represented, she was still unsure of his status and her relationship with him. There was so much about him she simply could not understand, and was not sure she wanted to understand. He was a legend and a hero and…. now…. he was what?
"How so?" she asked softly.
It had been a long day, but with as much work done as she could reasonably cope with she had gone for a walk, feeling the light and the darkness of her new home. He had come across to her and joined her. No word had been spoken and none had been offered…. until now.
"There is hope here. A hope for the future. Something I have seen so rarely…. except in the last days of the war, and then only briefly."
"But…. after the war, surely? There was hope then? A time for rebuilding and healing…."
"A time of hardship and betrayal. The war lasted so long, too many just did not know what peace was meant to be. The clans warred among each other for years afterwards. It took decades for the Grey Council to be accepted and even longer for a true balance of power to be struck. And then there was Marrain…. No, the war might have been over, but the aftermath…. that still endures even now."
"Marrain, yes…." Delenn said his name softly. Some — mostly religious caste, it had to be said — referred to him as 'the Betrayer'.
"A great man…. once. Time…. and darkness…. can seize us all."
"You are maudlin today," she whispered softly.
"Perhaps…. I am remembering a great deal, some of which I have not yet experienced, some of which I have. My thoughts often come back to Derannimer."
"Yes…. We know so little of her. She led the Grey Council for many years after you…. went beyond."
He stopped and looked a little surprised. "She did? That is good to know."
"You did not know?"
"No. Not everything. I…. recall making her my successor, but not how she would endure. I am glad she did well. She was…. a beautiful person. Not just in flesh, but in spirit. She shone so brightly…. That light once shone also in Marrain and Parlonn, but there is no light so bright it can never be eclipsed by shadows."
She nodded, and an uncomfortable silence fell across them both. Finally, he spoke again.
"Tell me…. Delenn. Do you know what became of our children? Derannimer and I…. we had children."
She shook her head sadly. "No. Your descendants left Minbar after you…. passed beyond. Some must have returned later, but we know little. Not even their names."
"Nor do I." She looked at him. "I cannot remember their names, or even how many there were. I struggle to recall, but it is like a net around my mind. So much I do not know…. Cathrenn. A daughter. We…. called her Cathrenn."
"Did you look through our records while you were on Minbar? I am sure some survived…. on the Valentha at least. Perhaps…."
"No." Soft, but certain. "No, I could not. The…. the Vorlons…. I did not think they would let me. What I do remember they have programmed into me. I doubt I would be permitted to know anything else."
"It is sad. I find it hard to reconcile these last few revelations with the Vorlons I have always…. liked to think I knew. I wonder if…."
"There are factions, I think. The Vorlons are powerful, yes, but they do not all think alike. At least not in any way we can comprehend. My presence among you is the result of a compromise of sorts between the factions. What the other half of this compromise will be…. I do not know."
"Perhaps Lyta does," Delenn muttered. "Have you spoken to her recently?"
He shook his head. "She is…. elsewhere, with Captain Sheridan. Perhaps later, but for now, I am unsure. There is something within her…. Ah, how can I tell? I am probably acting on an instinct a thousand years out of date."
She smiled. "Perhaps, but I was always taught never to ignore instinct. The warrior caste swear by it."
"That may not be the best of recommendations."
Delenn laughed, and he smiled. "Yes," she said, smiling. "But still, not all of the warrior caste are as…." She searched for a word.
"Unprincipled?" he suggested.
"They have their own principles, I think. Very different from the rest of us. They now have the power in our society, and I fear for the fate of my people."
"You have done well enough for your people here. And not all of your people are Minbari."
She smiled. "Very true."
They reached the Main Government Building — what Vejar somewhat inexplicably had called the Neuadd — and Delenn came to a halt. "I have no doubt there is more business to attend to. And then I would like to meditate."
"I understand. And…. call someone, I believe?"
"I…. yes. Yes, I miss him."
"It takes no arcane knowledge to realise that. Nor does it take any foreknowledge of the future to know that you will be happy."
A cloud passed over her features. "Will we?" she said softly.
"Well, for a time at least."
She nodded, briefly, and began to mount the steps to the Neuadd. As she was halfway up, she paused, brief memories of an encounter near this spot with one possessed surfacing in her mind. "Will you be needing anything?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I will walk a little more. I must think and remember and…. enjoy this beautiful place you have here. Good fortune and peace be with you, Delenn."
"And with you…." She paused, unsure of what to call him. He had had no title in his earlier time, and 'Master' somehow did not seem appropriate.
He smiled, perhaps recognising her dilemma. "Delenn…. call me Jeffrey. It is a reminder of what I used to be. Perhaps of what I still am."
She nodded once, briefly. "Then be at peace…. Jeffrey."
* * *
It's tearing me apart!
Silence.
Voices. In his mind. In his soul.
His son. His wife. Where were they? He needed them. He was doing this for them…. wasn't he? A better place for them.
Running away. You're running away. Afraid of the future. You're running away!
No. Has to be done. Must be done. Do what's right. Do what must be done.
Running away.
Tearing…. me…. apart….
Gotta be one of the good guys….
…. 'cause there's way too many of the bad.
Tearing me ap….
Michael Garibaldi screamed as his body was torn in a million pieces, as his world exploded around him, and the voices stilled. Forever.
"Michael?" Garibaldi shook his head. "Are you all right?"
"Wha…. what?" he asked, disoriented. Who was talking to him? Who…?
"Are you all right?"
David. Of course. Commander Corwin. Two parts status report, three parts talk between friends. And yet…. something had….
Michael winced. For a moment he'd been somewhere else. Almost as if he were dreaming.
"Right, that's it. I'm calling Medlab." Garibaldi could see Corwin reaching for his link.
"No. No, don't worry. I'm fine. Really. Just…. must be a spot of migraine coming on. What were you saying again?"
"I was asking how Lianna was." Corwin did not look particularly convinced by the explanation.
"Oh, she's fine. Back on Sanctuary at the moment, of course. Looking after little Frank. Well, someone had to."
Corwin nodded. From what he remembered of the Captain's status report about this new…. Babylon 4 — and that was a hard concept to take — it had been a joint project between G'Kar and Bester. Some sort of rallying point, apparently. Some of Bester's people had come over from Sanctuary to supervise his involvement in the construction. Unfortunately Mary hadn't been one of them. At least not yet.
"And how's Frank? Must be…. nine months by now." Michael nodded. "Wow. Nine months. Doesn't time fly!"
"Yeah, a lot's happened since he was born."
"There's still a lot more going to happen. You mark my words."
"My, aren't we pessimistic."
"No." His tone was suddenly deadly serious. "No, certain."
"What? Did you suddenly become a prophet or something?"
"Something. Definitely something."
* * *
"And now, a repeat of the classic Reebo and Zooty film Howondaland Jones, Balgrog Hunter…."
Julie Musante sighed and switched off the viewscreen. There had been many hardships following the fall of Earth, but one of the most distressing, in her opinion anyway, was the lack of anything new on the screens these days. Repeats, more repeats and the news, and that was it.
She stretched, and silently debated between going to bed or clearing up after her dinner. At least the food options had improved recently, ever since President Clark had pulled off that 'diplomatic coup' with the Narns. Rationing had even been relaxed a little. Of course, all the food was Narn, but every silver lining had a cloud.
