by Peter David
“The minister is a very inspirational speaker,” agreed Durla. His chest swelled slightly with pride. “I chose him, you know. As our spiritual minister.”
“Did you. I’m not surprised.” He let out his breath in a slow, steady stream. “In any event … I was thinking about what he said … about being what we once were. And I found I was getting … nostalgic, I guess is the right word. Nostalgic for the kind of man who would never have done what I was doing. I suppose that sounds ridiculous.”
“No. Not at all.”
“Of course, there’s the question of whether you are interested in her?” His eyebrows arched in curiosity. “Are you?”
It was everything that Durla could do, all the control he could muster, not to shout Yes! Yes! For as long as I can remember ! For as long as I have felt passion for any woman, I have wanted her! Instead he was the picture of calm as he said, “She is not … unattractive. Indeed, some might even term her vivacious. I admit, I have not been particularly aggressive in the pursuit of women as of late. There have been so many things on my mind. It is difficult to attend to affairs of the heart when one is weighed down by affairs of the state.”
“Oh, absolutely … absolutely. Still … we have a problem here. Perception is everything, as I’m sure you know. I am trying to do the right thing, but I do not need people to believe that I was tossed aside by the lady Mariel in favor of you. I don’t have to tell you how that will make me look.” Durla nodded, and Vir continued, “Nor do I desire that people know the circumstances under which Mariel stayed with me. You, on the other hand, don’t want people thinking that you are getting a woman who was tossed aside by not only the emperor , but by the ambassador of Babylon 5. That, likewise, would not reflect well on you.”
“All valid points.”
Vir leaned forward intently. “How much do you like her? Really like her, I mean?”
Durla looked at him askance. “What,” he said slowly, “are you suggesting?”
Vir smiled. “Are you a gambling man?” he asked.
“Under the right circumstances,” said Durla. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
Ever since the bombing, there had been a systematic eradication of anything remotely related to Humans, Earth, or the Interstellar Alliance in general. For a while Humans and their assorted absurd influences had been stylistically quite popular on Centauri Prime, but ever since Earth had become the mortal enemy, Vallko had been calling for an aggressive return to the Centauri roots. Naturally, the Centauri had been happy to accommodate him in all things.
Or nearly all things. With one notable exception that proved particularly convenient in Vir’s current plan.
Poker.
The insidiously addictive card game had worked its way so thoroughly into Centauri culture that, no matter what Vallko might demand in terms of isolationist activities, no one-especially the upper classes, with whom it was so popular-was inclined to give up what had become a preferred pastime. So a rumor was begun that poker had actually been invented by an early Centauri ambassador, who had in turn introduced it to Humans, and so the game continued in its popularity. This particular evening, a fairly brisk game was underway. Londo knew that it was happening, and as he sat in the throne room, he thought of how-once upon a time-he would have joined them. Now, of course, he was emperor. It would be considered unseemly, inappropriate. What would people think?
“I am the emperor,” he said out loud with a sudden start of realization. “Who cares what people think?”
He rose from his throne and headed for the door. Throk was immediately at his elbow, saying, “Highness, I thought you said you were staying in for the evening …”
“As I do every evening. I tire of repetition. Life is too short, Throk. We go.”
“Where do we go, Highness?”
Londo turned to him, and said, “In my day, I was quite the poker player. I understand there is a game going on right now. Take me to it.”
“Highness, I don’t know that “
“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion on the matter, Throk,” Londo told him flatly. “Now … will you do as I instruct , or must I attend to this on my own … and find a way to make my displeasure clear to you at a later date?”
Moments later, an uneasy Throk was leading Londo down a long corridor. From the far end of the hall they actually heard laughter. It seemed to Londo he could not recall the last time he had heard anything approaching genuine merriment in the palace. Instead the place seemed to be suffocating in intrigue, backroom politics, and deals that usually did not bode well for the good people of Centauri Prime.
The laughter approached a truly high-decibel level, and he could make out people speaking in a scoffing tone, apparently not believing something that one of them was saying. Londo could make out a few words here and there: “He’s not serious.” “A bold move.” “You would not dare.”
And then there was a sudden silence.
At first Londo thought that the abrupt cessation of noise might be due to his arrival on the scene, but as he entered he saw that all attention was focused away from the door and instead on two players at the table. His blood froze when he saw who they were.
One of them was Vir. The other was Durla. Each was peering at the other over fans of cards that they were clutching in their respective hands. Also seated around the table were Kuto, Castig Lione, and Munphis, the newly appointed minister of education and one of the most singularly stupid men that Londo had ever met. Their cards were down; clearly they were not part of this confrontation.
Londo wasn’t sure whether he was happy or distressed that Vir was among them. The more acceptance that Vir had among the ministers, the easier it would be for him to come and go, and therefore the more likely it would be that Londo could have him around to chat with whenever he desired. On the other hand, the last thing he wanted was for Vir to become like those power-grubbing predators.
“Did I come at a bad time?” inquired Londo.
They looked at him then, and started automatically to rise. “No, no, don’t get up,” he said, gesturing for them to remain where they were. “I was thinking of joining you… but matters seem a bit intense at the moment. I assume there are some elevated stakes before us?”
“You could say that,” Vir commented.
Kuto stirred his bulk around on his chair to face the emperor , and said, “The ambassador has wagered his paramour.”
“What?” The words didn’t entirely make sense to Londo at first, but then he understood. He looked at Vir incredulously. “You are … not serious.”
Vir nodded.
As much antipathy as Londo felt for Mariel, something about this made his stomach turn.
“Vir, she is a free woman. You cannot `wager’ her …”
“Actually, I can. She will respect a debt of honor, should it come to that,” Vir told him.
“But how can you use her as you would a … a marker!” demanded Londo.
“Because I was out of money,” Vir said reasonably. “And besides…” Vir gestured for him to come over and, when he did so, held up his cards. Londo looked at them. Four kings.
“Oh. That’s how,” said Londo.
“The ambassador is seeking to cause me to rethink the wager,” Durla said thoughtfully. “And the emperor is aiding him in this. Hmm. Whether to take the bet or not. A considerable amount of money and a woman on the line. The woman has no true monetary value, for her own resources are limited, but there is a certain … nostalgia value to her. What to do, what to do.” He looked at his own hand, and then said, “Very well. The bet is called.”
Vir placed his cards down triumphantly, a smile splitting his face. Durla blinked in obvious surprise. “That,” he said, “I was not expecting.”
“Thank you,” said Vir, reaching for the chips that represented his winnings.
But without taking a breath, Durla continued, “Just as, I am sure, you were not expecting … this.” And, one by one, he placed four aces upon th
e table.
There was a stunned hush around the table. Londo looked from one to the other, waiting for some sort of word, some type of reaction. And then Vir laughed. He laughed long and loud, and then reached over and gripped Durla’s hand firmly. “Well played!” he said. “Very well played! I will inform Mariel at once.”
“You are an honorable man, Vir Cotto,” Durla said formally, “and a most formidable opponent. I have nothing but the greatest respect for you.”
Vir bowed graciously, and stepped back from the table.
“Viiir. A moment of your time,” Londo said, falling into step beside him, and they walked out of the room together. Londo opened his mouth to speak, then became aware of the footsteps behind them. Without even looking back, he said, “Throk, some privacy if you would not mind.”
Throk, by this point in their relationship, knew better than to argue, and he faded back from the scene.
“Vir,” Londo said briskly, “what do you think you have done? Might not Mariel have something to say in this matter?”
“Not really,” said Vir coolly. “She won’t mind. To be honest, I think she was getting bored with Babylon 5, and nostalgic for the halls of home. What’s the matter, Highness? Don’t want to have to deal with her hanging about the palace? Worried?”
“No, I am not worried…”
“You should be,” Vir’s voice suddenly grew harsh. “She tried to kill you, Londo. We both know that. Oh, she claimed it was an accident. She said she had no idea that the statue was rigged. But it’s not true.” All the words came out in a rush. “She knew before she set foot on Babylon 5 that you were planning to divorce two of your wives, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. She’d had past dealings with Stoner, and arranged with him to bring the artifact to Babylon 5 for ‘resale.’ When Stoner sold it to a merchant, he slipped the merchant a note that a certain elegant Centauri woman would come by and express interest in it … and that she would simply point rather than pick it up, since the touch of any Centauri would trigger it. So if you have any sympathy for her, Londo, I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Londo was stunned by the outpouring of information. “How do you know all this?”
“She told me.”
“And she told you … why?”
“Because I asked her. Recently, in fact. Oh, but don’t worry, Londo … she’s no threat to you anymore. She has … other considerations.”
“Vir, putting aside what you have told me-and I admit, it is a good deal to put aside-I was not concerned about Mariel so much as I was about you.”
“Me? Why? I would think you’d be happy I’m quit of her.”
“Because,” Londo gestured helplessly, “she seemed to make you happy. I thought she had, perhaps, changed. Yet now I see,” and his gaze searched Vir’s face for some sign of the naive young Centauri he had once known, “that she has not changed half as much as you.”
“I grew up, Londo. That’s all,” Vir told him. “It happens to all of us. Well … all of us except Peter Pan.”
“What?” Londo blinked in confusion. “Who?”
Vir waved him off. “It doesn’t matter. Londo, look … with all respect to you and your position and everything … just stay out of it, okay? This simply isn’t your concern.”
And with that he picked up the pace and hurried off to his quarters, leaving an extremely perplexed emperor in his wake.
Mariel had almost finished gathering her things when there came a chime at the door. “Yes?” she called as the door slid open, and then she blinked in surprise. “Well. To what do I owe the honor?”
Londo entered, his hands draped behind his back, and he said, “Hello, Mariel. You are looking well.”
“Greetings, Highness. Should I bow?” She made a formal curtsy.
“Oh, I think there is little need for such formalities between us, my dear.” He approached her slowly and carefully, as if she were an explosive. “So tell me, Mariel … what is your game this time, eh?”
“My game?*
“You have switched allegiances, I hear. From Vir to Durla. Decided that he represents your best hope at getting up in the world?”
“In case you had not heard, Londo,” she said evenly, “I was not present at the game where I was bartered away. No one asked me my opinion. But Vir has made it quite clear to me that his honor is on the line. I have been given no choice in the matter. Besides-” she shrugged “-Durla is a pretty enough man. He seems to fancy me. He is well positioned within the government. Vir had charm and humor, but that will only go so far. This is a fairly practical happenstance for me. And I have long ago lost any illusions as to what my purpose in life is.”
“And what would that purpose be?”
“Why, Londo … to make men happy, of course. Did I not do that for you?” She smiled sweetly and traced the line of his chin with one slim finger. “There are some things in which I have always excelled.”
“Including manipulation of events when they suit your fancy. Answer me truthfully, Mariel, if such a concept is not entirely foreign to you: Did you arrange that card game somehow? Did you mastermind this entire business?”
“Why on Earth would I need to `mastermind’ anything, Londo?” she demanded, a bit of the carefully held sweetness slipping away. “If I decided I preferred Durla to Vir, what was to stop me from simply approaching Durla … especially if, as you likely suspect, I care nothing for Vir save how he suits my purposes. Why would I feel the need to resort to some sort of convoluted business with a card game?”
“I do not know,” Londo said thoughtfully. “But if I find out…”
“If you find out, then what, Londo? All parties are satisfied with the outcome of what transpired this evening around that table. The only one who seems to have difficulties with it is you, and you are not involved.”
He took a step toward her, and in a flat voice said, “It occurred on Centauri Prime. I, the emperor, am Centauri Prime. That makes me involved. Something in this business is not right.”
“Something on this planet is not right, Londo. Perhaps you’d better serve the interests of Centauri Prime if you concentrated on that, rather than the outcome of a hand of poker.”
The door opened once more and a member of the Prime Candidates was standing there. “Lady Mariel,” he said with a sweeping bow, “I was sent by Minister Durla . . “
“Yes, of course. That bag, and that one there,” she pointed to several packed suitcases. “I have arranged for my belongings from Babylon 5 to be sent to me as soon as possible.” She turned to Londo and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Is there anything else, Highness? Or am I dismissed?”
His jaw shifted several times as if he were cracking walnuts with his teeth. “Go,” he said finally.
“By your leave,” she said with another elaborate curtsy, and she headed off down the hall, leaving Londo scowling furiously and wondering what in the world had just happened.
She had haunted his dreams.
The dream image of Mariel had come to him, years ago, and told him to begin the dig upon K0643. And in later months, the dreams of Mariel had made repeat visits, and told him to do other things. She had been his dream guide, the means by which his mind had worked and planned and plotted the destiny that Centauri Prime was to follow. At first when she had come to him in his dreams, he had not remembered it upon waking. But in later weeks and months, the fragments had coalesced. The connection, the bond between them-spiritually, only, of course-had become more firm, more intertwined, with every bit of guidance that his subconscious mind had given him. He had even taken to sleeping with a recording device next to him, so that if he happened to wake up during one of his dream sessions, he would be able to grab the device and make a record of whatever thought had occurred to him. That way nothing would ever be lost.
And in many of those dreams, she had promised that, sooner or later, she would be his. All it would take was patience and dedication, and she would eventually come to him of her own volition.<
br />
Now it had happened.
He could scarcely believe it.
She stood there in his room, clad in a gown so sheer that at certain angles of light it was practically invisible. “Hello, Minister,” she said.
He entered the room on legs that suddenly felt leaden. “Greetings, Lady,” he replied, and he realized that his voice sounded rather hoarse. He cleared it forcefully. “I think you should know that … if you desire no part of this…”
She came slowly toward him. To Durla, it seemed as if she were gliding across to him on ice, so minimal were her movements , so gracefully did she walk. She faced him … exactly who I wish to be.”
“This is … so abrupt,” he said.
But she shook her head. “To you, perhaps. But for me, it has been long in coming. I have admired you from afar, Durla … Certainly you must have realized that when you came to Babylon 5.”
“You spoke mostly of Vir.”
She laughed, her voice chiming like a hundred tiny bells. “That was to make you jealous, my dear Durla. Certainly a man of the world such as yourself must have seen through it. A man who has accomplished all that you have accomplished , done all the things that you have done. Why you,” and she began to undo the top of his shirt, “are the single greatest leader on this planet. Everyone knows that.”
“Everyone does, eh?” His pride was swelling, and that wasn’t the only thing.
“Of course! Who is it who conceives of, and oversees, all the reconstruction projects? Who is the power behind the emperor , developing programs, picking the key people for the right positions? Who has a true vision of what this world should be? Who stirs the people’s hearts and souls? Did you not conceive of the Tower of Power? Did you not handpick Vallko to uplift the spirits of all Centauri Prime? And who knows what other grand plans you have!”
“They are grand, yes.” He paused. “Do you want me to tell you about them? Are you interested?”
“I am interested only in that they are reflections of your greatness,” Mariel said, and her warm breath was in his ear. He thought his legs were going to give way, and it was all he could do to remain standing. “But we need not hear of such matters now. We have other things to do … things of much greater interest,” and she took his face in her hands, “and you have been waiting for them … for quite some time. Haven’t you. “