1-The Long Night of Centauri Prime

by Peter David

  Then again, she was preparing to kill herself anyway. If someone was going to show up and do the job for her, certainly it wasn’t that much different. Still, protocol had to be observed.

  “Just a moment,” she said. She was wearing the sheerest of nightgowns. She had little need to get dressed these days, since she was on her own and no one came to visit her. Even the fellow who delivered food to her once a week simply left the supplies outside the door. Indeed, that had been one of the considerations that had sent her thoughts toward suicide. It wasn’t just the humiliation and the ennui, it was also a matter of practicality. Soon what meager savings she had would run out. The delivery fellow had intimated that an “arrangement” might be able to be worked out, and he had suggested it with an unmistakeably lascivious grin. The thought of falling so far that she was actually considering the “arrangement” had been what had finally propelled Mariel’s thoughts down the road of embarking upon final festivities. It had also resulted in the supplies being left outside the door.

  For the sake of propriety, she tossed on a robe over her gown-a sheer robe nonetheless-and answered the door.

  There was a very serious-faced young man standing there. She noted his discipline; his gaze did not so much as flicker over the lines of her body. If her beauty had an effect on him, he did not let it show. “Lady Mariel?” It was intended as an interrogative, although there was very little question in his tone.

  “Yes.,,

  “I am Throk of the Prime Candidates. Chancellor Castig Lione wishes to see you.”

  “Does he now?” She arched one curved brow. “And he has sent you to fetch me?”

  “Yes, milady.”

  “And if I do not choose to go?” She said it with a slightly toying tone. She had not played with a young male in some time. Pleasantly, she found that it still amused her. “Will you take me by force? Will you sling me over your shoulder as I struggle and plead for mercy?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  “I will wait until you choose to go.”

  “Then that is what you will have to do.” With that, she closed the door.

  It was getting late in the evening. She prepared herself a meager and carefully rationed dinner, ate it slowly and sparingly , worked on her suicide note, read a bit, then went to bed. When she awoke the following morning, she glanced out her front window and was dumbfounded to see Throk standing exactly where he had been the previous afternoon. As near as she could tell, he hadn’t moved from the spot. He was covered with morning dew, and a passing bird had seen fit to relieve itself on his shoulder.

  She opened the door and stared at him. “My, my. You’re quite determined, aren’t you.”

  “No, milady. I simply have my orders. Returning without you would not be following my orders. I was told to treat you with all courtesy. That, in fact, to treat you with discourtesy would result in my answering directly to Minister Durla.”

  “Who?”

  “Minister Durla. The minister of internal security.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. No matter. It probably was not important . “And so you have chosen to wait.”

  “One choice is no choice, milady.”

  “A good point. Come in.”

  “I will wait here, milady, if that is acceptable.”

  The edges of her mouth crinkled. “And if it is not acceptable?”

  “I will still wait here. I was informed you could be quite seductive and was explicitly told not to enter your domicile for fear of being distracted from my mission.”

  “Ooo. `Quite seductive.’ I like the sound of that” She laughed lightly then. This was the most amusement she’d had in ages. “Very well, Throk. Remain there. I will attire myself in something more suitable and then go with you to speak with this chancellor of yours. Oh … and Throk…”

  “Yes, milady.”

  "A pity you didn’t come in. I was going to let you watch me change.” She winked one eye lazily as she noted a telltale movement under Throk’s shirt while the youth fought to keep an impassive face. She slid shut the door, then leaned against it and laughed some more, her shoulders trembling in silent mirth. She’d forgotten what it was like to entertain herself in that manner.

  The day was getting off to quite a start.

  The Office of Development was more than just an office. It was an entirely new building, tall and gleaming, part of the renovations that had been going on across Centauri Prime. Most impressive, she had to admit. Castig Lione’s office was on the top floor, which, for some reason, didn’t surprise Mariel in the slightest.

  Lione rose from behind his desk as Throk ushered her in. “Milady Mariel,” he said, the picture of graciousness. “Young Throk left to fetch you yesterday. We were beginning to lose hope.”

  “Your noble officer was delayed in rendering assistance to me. He is to be commended,” Mariel said smoothly. Just to see Throk’s expression, she cupped him under the chin and tickled him behind the ear. Nonetheless, he remained impressively impassive.

  “Well done, Throk,” Lione said. “You may leave us, now.”

  “Yes, sir,” Throk said in a voice that sounded faintly strangled. He bowed quickly to Marie] and got out of there as quickly as he could.

  “My congratulations, milady,” said Lione, as he gestured for her to take a seat, which she promptly did. “You have managed the formidable feat of causing Throk to be disconcerted . I thought no one was capable of that.”

  “I am not no one,” Mariel said.

  “True. Quite true.” He seemed to contemplate her for a moment, and suddenly said, “I have been remiss. Something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He nodded, then pulled a bottle from his desk drawer, poured himself a glass, and downed it. “You are doubtlessly wondering why I desired to see you.”

  “No.”

  “You’re not?”

  She gave a small shrug of her shapely shoulders. “The world and the events that transpire within it are altogether too insane for my tastes. I prefer to simply allow them to unfold, rather than try to anticipate anything.”

  “Well said,” he chuckled. “Best not to give things too much thought. That way lies madness.”

  “Speaking of madness, how is the emperor?”

  The well-delivered jibe prompted an appreciative chuckle from Lione. “I, of course, would never dare to make such an obviously disrespectful comment,” he said. “But I suppose that having been married to the emperor at one time accords certain … privileges. Are you sure you want nothing to drink?”

  “Quite sure. What I would like,” and she rearranged her skirts delicately around her shapely legs, “is to know why I have been summoned here. I do have a good many things to attend to …”

  “Do you. Do you really.” Something in his voice had changed ever so slightly. A slight coldness crept into it, perhaps even a hint of contempt. Lione glanced at his computer screen, apparently checking a file that was displayed upon it. “Once upon a time, milady, your activities were quite easily tracked. They consisted of a series of public appearances, parties, social engagements at high-profile establishments, and so on. However, I have no clue as to what you might be up to this fine afternoon. No sign of any activities at all. Or perhaps you’re simply trying to keep a lower profile these days.”

  Her lips thinned as her smile dissipated, to be replaced by a hardened look of barely restrained impatience. “Are you endeavoring to make a point, Chancellor? If so, what are you trying to say?”

  “I would assume, milady, that I am not saying anything you do not already know. As closely as we can determine, you have fallen on extremely hard times. You are nearly out of money.” Apparently warming to his topic, he leaned forward, interlacing his fingers. “Furthermore, it was bad enough when you were simply divorced by Londo Mollari. But now your former mate has risen to the exalted rank of emperor. That makes you an imperial di
scard. The men who once flocked to you so eagerly now desire to keep their distance. They do not desire to tempt fate, in the event that the emperor might either form a new attachment to you, or else seek you out for some rather distressing punishment. Your beauty may well be without match, Milady Mariel … but there remain quite a few women out there to choose from, many of them well-connected. And few of them present anything resembling the potential difficulties that would face anyone seeking your … favors.”

  “Did you bring me here to insult me?” Mariel asked. She could feel her irritation mounting quite rapidly. She had not been certain why Lione had wanted to see her, but never would she have been able to guess that it was because he wanted to torment her.

  “Not at all.” He seemed stricken that she could think such a thing. “Milady, I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. I have brought you here at the suggestion and recommendation of Minister Durla, but also because I genuinely believe that you will fit in nicely with our plans here at the Office of Development. Although what we have in mind is, well well…” And he smiled. “Not precisely within the official purview of this office, if you understand my drift.”

  “I would like to say that I do, but I would be lying.”

  He stood then. She remained where she was as he sauntered around the room. Since he had only half risen from his chair earlier upon her arrival, she had not realized quite how tall he was. “There is a great deal of resentment toward the Interstellar Alliance, at present,” he said.

  “At present?” She chuckled lightly. “There has been for some time, and that situation will continue, I’d wager.”

  “Yes, as would we. And since the IA promises to be something of a presence in the galaxy for some time to come, we have a certain … obligation, shall we say … to protect Centauri interests in that regard.”

  “Protect them how? They have already dropped enough bombs upon us to wipe out a less hardy race. It’s a bit late for protection now, is it not?”

  He looked out his window, seemingly pleased with the view. “It is never too late, milady. I am overseeing the creation of a … a department, if you will. A quiet section of the government that is not of the government … if you see my meaning.”

  “I am … beginning to,” she said after a moment of consideration . “You’re speaking of a bureau within the Centauri government charged with spying upon the Alliance.”

  “Please, milady,” protested Lione. ” `Spying’ is such an ugly word.”

  “Really. What word would you prefer?”

  ” `Espionage.’ Far more elegant, don’t you think?”

  “You speak of things that could potentially involve great risk,” said Mariel thoughtfully. “I do not embark on such undertakings lightly. What would you have me do?”

  “Only that which you are more than capable of accomplishing , milady,” said Lione. He had been circling the room, but now he stopped next to her. In what might be seen as a somewhat bold move, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Your beauty, if I may say so, is exceptional.”

  “You may say so,” Mariel told him. “And you are implying that a beautiful woman may accomplish a great many things, particularly when it comes to eliciting information from easily manipulated men.”

  “Quite.”

  “But beauty, my dear chancellor, is very much in the eye of he who beholds it,” she reminded him. “The most beautiful Centauri woman on the face of this planet may be considered quite hideous by a Drazi, for example.”

  “True enough,” admitted Lione. “But you are overlooking two things. First, there are many cross-species standards for beauty that you already surpass. To Human eyes, you are exceptionally attractive. Also, your features would not be found displeasing by a Minbari. And my understanding is that the Narn … well, the Narn find pale skin rather exotic, so I’m told.”

  “You’re told correctly,” Mariel said, remembering the attentions paid her by G’Kar. Certainly part of their relationship had been spurred by the fact that G’Kar drew great pleasure from cuckolding his old opponent, Londo, but certainly the Narn was attracted to her as a female, as well. “And the second thing that I am overlooking?”

  “Charisma, milady. You have a great deal of charisma, and I am certain that it would serve you in good stead, even with those races who would consider a Centauri female to be less than aesthetic.”

  “Why, Chancellor. You certainly know how to flatter a woman.”

  “But I do not do so idly, I assure you. I feel you could be a most valuable operative for us, Milady Mariel. And I speak not only in terms of espionage. There may be the occasional requirement for sabotage or…”

  “Murder?” she finished the sentence. “Oh, but let me guess: `murder’ is a distasteful word as well.”

  “Since you bring it up … I personally have always preferred the term `relocation.’ “

  `Relocation.? “

  “Yes. To the next life.”

  “Ah.” She smiled. Clearly the chancellor was not without a sense of humor, however morbid it might be.

  He came full circle around his desk and seated himself once more.

  “Doubtless you are wondering how this will benefit you directly.”

  “It did cross my mind. Unless you were intending that I should become involved out of the goodness of my hearts.”

  “I have no doubt that there is much in your hearts, milady, but how much could be honestly described as ‘goodness,’ I would not care to find out. In answer to your question: Titles and lands, I regret, presently would be out of my reach to provide you. This aspect of my office must maintain a low profile, and to elevate you in such a manner would be too conspicuous . It might draw questions.

  “However, we can easily provide you with attractive remuneration , drawn from certain discretionary funds we have at our disposal. Furthermore, I believe you will find that certain doors to society will slowly begin creaking open for you once again. Your attracting some attention can only be beneficial to the cause. Just … not too much attention, if you-“

  “Understand your meaning? Yes, Chancellor, it’s quite clear.”

  “Your missions would come from this office, and you would answer directly to me.”

  “And if I were to find myself in any sort of difficulty derived from my espionage activities? If the truth behind one of my `missions’ were to come out, and I found myself facing charges of being a spy? What then?”

  “Then,” sighed Lione, “I am afraid that you would very likely find yourself in rather disastrous straits. Might I suggest that you not be found out?”

  “So you are saying I would be considered… disposable.” She smiled humorlessly. “It would not be the first time. Since Londo already disposed of Daggair and myself, I have some experience in being considered easily dispensed with.”

  “Do you think that the lady Daggair would be interested in becoming involved, as well? Or, for that matter, the lady Timov? Granted, she is still the emperor’s wife, but our understanding is that there is no love lost between the two of them. She might be willing to accommodate us.”

  Mariel gave the question some serious consideration. Then, slowly she shook her head. “I would not, if I were you, Chancellor . Daggair very much enjoys playing at being the manipulator . Politics and gamesmanship are something of a hobby to her. But she remains a dabbler, nothing more, with overmuch confidence in her abilities. I doubt she truly would have the stomach for the stakes that you’re describing.

  “As for Timov … you underestimate her, I think. She is superb at developing rationalizations for disliking Londo, but in my opinion, rationalizations are all they are. She was quite young when she married Londo, and she was quite starry-eyed when she did so, although it was an arranged marriage. I believe that some of that stardust remains, although it is very much tucked away in the corners of her eyes where she thinks it will not be noticed. I would not count on her being willing to betray Londo. Furthermore she is far too outspoken, and certainly does not s
uffer fools gladly. There is no subtlety to her, which would make her a less-than-attractive candidate.

  “There are, however, others,” she added thoughtfully. “Other individuals who might very well be of the caliber that you are looking for. In my time, I have had the opportunity to make the acquaintance of many `dubious’ individuals. I can provide you with a list of names, if you are so inclined.”

  “You see? Your usefulness to us begins already.” Then he tilted his head slightly. “You seem thoughtful, milady. Is all well?”

  “I am just … thinking about the other wives. Londo’s, that is. Sometimes I look back on that part of my life as if it was someone else’s entirely.” She laughed softly. “Do you know what Londo used to refer to us as? `Pestilence, famine, and death.’ “

  Lione shook his head politely. “I am afraid I do not understand the reference.”

  “Oh, it relates to Earth. Londo is quite the aficionado with Earth legend. One of their religions apparently states that, when their judgment day arrives, it will be heralded by four horsemen. And three of them would be pestilence, famine, and death.”

  “Earth customs seem to hold endless fascination, not only for Londo, but for his former protege, Vir, as well.” Clearly struck by a thought, he added, “Who would the fourth horseman in this mythical quartet be?”

  She frowned, trying to recall, and then her face brightened. “Oh yes. War.”

  “War.” Castig Lione chuckled. “Considering where Londo led us to, that is quite appropriate, don’t you think?”

  “I try not to think, Chancellor,” Mariel said. “Oftentimes it gets in the way of living my life.”

  “So we have an understanding then, milady?”

  “Yes. Yes, I believe we do.” She extended a hand in a rather elegant fashion and Castig Lione took it suavely and kissed her knuckles. “I can trust to your gentlemanly nature, I assume , to make my `remuneration’ a fair one, so that we need not discuss such annoying matters as exact sums at this time?”

  “I am quite certain, milady, that you will not be disappointed.”

  “And I thank you for thinking of me in this matter.”