by Peter David
Chapter 18 The months passed quickly. Vir could not remember being happier. It wasn't as if Mariel was with him all the time; far from it. She came and went, heading off visiting friends or associates. But Babylon 5 apparently had become her home base, and every so often Vir would be delighted to learn that she was returning. During their time together, he was deliriously happy. And when they weren't together, Vir nevertheless still felt like a new man. He walked with more spring in his step, new confidence m his attitude. Not only that, but when others on Babylon 5 looked his way, he would greet them boldly or snap off a salute. He would walk right up to people, address them by name, ask them how they were doing. In short, he started behaving as if he had every right to be there. And others began responding to him differently, as well, treating him with the respect he should be due. When Mariel wasn't with him, they invariably asked how she was. When she was with him, they would look at Vir with open envy. He loved every moment of it. He finally felt as if he, Vir Cotto, was coming into his own-when his world came crashing down on him. Mariel had just departed Babylon 5 again when Vir strode into his quarters-using that same snappy stride despite the fact that it was quite late. As he had in the past, he stood for a 226 moment in the center of his quarters, already regretting her absence. She had a certain scent to her, a perfume that clung to her. He'd never asked her the name of the scent. It hadn't mattered. It was a beautiful scent. Everything about her was beautiful, wonde rful ... He picked up a picture of her that now permanently adorned his shelf, and smiled at it. The picture began to speak. "Greetings, Chancellor. It continues to go well." Vir let out a yelp and dropped the picture. It crashed to the floor, and he stared down at it in utter confusion. The photograph began moving, the equivalent of a video screen image. And with Mariel's voice it was saying, "Tomorrow , as per your instruction, I'll be departing for the Nimue Homeworld. The undersecretary of Defense has offered me a standing invitation-he extended it last month during an early morning brunch, and I'm taking him up on it. I believe he will share with me some interesting insights into the Nimue Department of War." Then she paused, smiled, and nodded, as if listening to a conversation that Vir couldn't hear. "No, Chancellor, I doubt that he knows he's going to share them with me. But I can be ... persuasive ... as you well know." Vir remembered the brunch. He had been there. And now that he thought about it, the Nimue undersecretary had been lavishing a great deal of attention upon Mariel. But he had thought nothing of that; so many people clearly found themselves drawn to her, yet at the end of the day, he was the one she went home with ... But ... what was of far greater consequence was that the picture was inexplicably still talking. How could that possibly be? It had to be some sort of trick. For Mariel hadn't gone to Nimue ... she had returned to Centauri Prime, to visit relatives. That's what she'd told him, that's what- "No, Chancellor, I doubt Vir suspects. He remains a fool. A useful fool. He has, however, been an aid to the cause, albeit an unwitting one." "Stop it!" Vir shouted at the picture, which gave no indication at all that it heard him. "Stop doing this! Stop it!" And suddenly, the picture did stop talking. The image of Mariel was restored to normal. Vir stared down at it, his chest heaving, and he didn't even realize at first how hard he was breathing. "The truth hurts," a voice said. Vir whirled. Then he stared in amazement, before that amazement turned to anger. "Of course. Kane. I should have known." The techno-mage initiate bowed slightly, as if he were on a stage. He kept his staff clenched tightly in his hand. He was standing just inside the door, which was closed behind him. "The very same," Kane acknowledged. Vir hadn't seen him since the incident with Rem Lanas. In looking back upon it, Vir had almost felt as if the entire thing had been some sort of strange dream. Kane had appeared at a crucial moment in his life, only to slip away again, as if he had never been there. Though Vir had been certain that he would hear from the initiate soon thereafter, when he hadn't, he'd begun to wonder if he hadn't been suffering from some sort of delusion. The delusion was back now. This time, however, Vir didn't feel the slightest bit of intimidation. He pointed a trembling finger angrily at the fallen photo. "That ... was a cruel joke to play. Why. . ." "It was no joke, Vir," Kane replied. "It was an actual recording. We've been observing her ever since she set foot on the station. Once it was clear that she was going to remain here. . ." "We?" demanded Vir. "There are more of you?" "No," Kane said quickly, although he looked subtly chagrined . "I meant to say `I.' " "I don't care what you meant to say!" Vir told him, abandoning any attempt to hide his anger. "Making up that thing about Mariel, changing her image to=" "Vir, listen to me. I didn't make up anything. That really happened. Even an initiate has ways." "Then have a way out!" He stepped toward Kane as if to grab him, but Kane extended his staff and shoved one end under Vir's chin. "I wouldn't," Kane said dangerously, "if I were you." It brought Vir to a halt, and enabled his senses to come swimming back to him. "I just want you out," Vir said stubbornly . "And I want you to stop making things up about Mariel. That trick you just did ... it's a trick. That's all." "You do not understand," Kane told him, slowly lowering his staff. "The way of the techno-mage is the way of truth. All of our `magic' is based in, and adheres purely to, reality. We don't deviate from that path ... ever. For any of us to use our powers to misinform, that would be a violation of our most sacred beliefs." "And to buy into the words you're putting into Mariel's mouth would be a violation of my most sacred beliefs," Vir countered sharply. "You should not blame yourself, Vir Cotto. Mariel is far more than she seems. Even she is unaware of her full capabilities ... and you can feel some relief that that is the case. For if she did. . ." He actually shuddered slightly. Vir once again indicated the door. "There's nothing you can say to convince me that Mariel is anything but---2' "Perhaps her own words could have a bit more impact," Kane said. Before Vir could protest, the image of Mariel started speaking to the unknown "chancellor" once again. "Poor Vir ... I almost feel sorry for him, in a way," Mariel purred. "The other ambassadors have no love of the Centauri, certainly ... and as a result, they draw particular entertainment from a Centauri female who speaks in rather withering tones of her `paramour.' Of course, the amusement I share with the ambassadors makes them that much more pliant when they are speaking with me, so who is the greatest fool in the end, yes?" "This is evil," said Vir. "I have witnessed evil, I've seen it in action, and this is one of the most evil things I've ever seen anyone do, Kane." His voice rose along with his fury. "You are to shut that down, right now, or I'll-" "He only goes as high as three, did you know that? And usually not even that," continued Mariel. Vir, who had been looking at Kane, whipped his head back to the picture frame. Every drop of blood drained from his face. "What does she mean by that?" Kane inquired, seeming genuinely interested. "I confess, l don't quite understand the reference. 1t--2' "Shut up," Vir demanded hollowly. Mariel laughed in the picture. "I know, Chancellor, I know. It is all I can do to feign interest. Perhaps I should start bringing something to read while Vir entertains himse-" "Shut up! " Vir bellowed, but this time it wasn't at Kane. Instead he grabbed up the picture and threw it with all his strength at the wall. The frame shattered, and Vir stood there leaning against a table, trying to keep himself upright even as he felt the strength draining out of his legs. Kane started to speak, but Vir raised a finger and said, "Be quiet. I need to check something." Moments later he had Zack Allan on the Babcom screen. The security chief didn't appear the least bit tired, but because of the lateness of the hour, Vir felt obliged to say, "I hope I didn't wake you." "Me? Nah. I only sleep on duty" Zack said with his customary deadpan expression. He tilted his head slightly and asked, "Vir, are you okay? You look. . ." "1 need you to check something for me. Marie] ... when she departed the station several hours ago, do you have a record of where she was bound?" "I couldn't say for absolute sure, because she could easily make connections. But we'd have checked her outbound ticket. That's SOP" "Where was it for? Hers, I mean?" "Is there a problem?" "I'm not sure. Can you just check please." "Because if there is, I-" " Would you just
checkplease?" Clearly taken aback by the fervency in Vir's voice, Zack nodded and said, "Hold on." The words "Please Stand By" appeared on the screen and then, an eternity later, Zack reappeared . "Nimue. She was heading for Nimue. Does that tell you what you need to know?" "Yes. Yes, it does. Thank ... YOU." "Is Mariel all right?" asked Zack. "I hope there's nothing wrong, and if there is, then let me know how I can help. Because she's. . ." "Yes, I know. She's all that and a box of cookies. Thank you, Mr. Allan," and Vir shut down the connection before Zack could say anything else well-meaning-something that would cut like a knife to Vir's soul. There was an uncomfortable silence for a time, except that to Vir, it didn't seem uncomfortable at all. He sat and stewed in it, thinking about the world in which he lived. Thinking about the fantasy life he substituted for real life. Thinking that, until Mariel had come along, the last time he had really felt good about anything had been when he was looking at Morden's severed head atop a pike. He had known. Deep down, he had really known that Mariel had been up to something. That she was using him, that she was up to no good. But he hadn't wanted to believe it, displaying what appeared to be an infinite capacity for self- delusion. The proof was that he hadn't spoken to Londo of it. Not a word had he breathed to his former mentor, about his association with Mariel, because he had known without question what the response was going to be. He would have told Vir that he was completely out of his mind. That he had no business associating with someone like Mariel, that she would be using him, and so on and so forth. That knowledge should have been Vir's barometer, indicating what he was truly involved with. But once again, he had ignored all the warning signs with single-minded determination. "For what it is worth," Kane said softly, looking genuinely contrite, "I am sorry." "It isn't worth a damned thing," Vir said. "Then perhaps this will be worth something: Mariel is not the problem. She's merely the pawn of others. Even those who appear to guide Mariel are themselves guided. There is a great darkness residing on Centauri Prime." "A great darkness." Vir echoed the words without putting much inflection to them. "Is that a fact?" "Yes. It is." "And is that supposed to make me feel better, somehow? Less used? Less foolish?" "No." Kane approached him and came uncomfortably close. Vir's instinct was to take a step back, but filled with a newfound stubbornness, he held his ground. Kane didn't appear to notice. "What it is supposed to do is fill you with a deep burning rage. It's supposed to make you realize that there is more at stake than your ego, you, Vir Cotto, have a destiny . And you must you must-rise to the level of the man that you can be, in order to fulfill it." "I see. And is it your job to help bring me to that destiny? To help me rise up and become all that I am capable of becoming ?" asked Vir sarcastically. "Well ... no," admitted Kane. "In point of fact, I should be keeping out of it entirely. My job is simply to relay information to others, but otherwise stay completely out of the line of fire. Unfortunately, I find that I can't. I can't simply stand by and allow the Drakh to-" "The who?" "The Drakh," Kane said with an air of portentousness. "Servants of the Shadows." "The Shadows are gone." "But the servants remain," insisted Kane. "And their darksome influence is all throughout Centauri Prime. Ultimately, it is their hand behind Mariel's involvement. They also control Londo Mollari." "And you know this for a certainty." "For a time, I only suspected. So I took steps to make sure. It took some time, I admit. I stayed outside the palace and waited for Londo to emerge, since I didn't want to chance setting foot into the palace itself." "Afraid?" Vir said challengingly. Kane did not hesitate. "Absolutely," he said. That, more than anything, Vir found absolutely chilling. If an initiate of the techno-mages was afraid, then Vir should by rights be bordering on total panic. He gulped and tried to appear undaunted. "My patience was eventually rewarded as Londo finally emerged, dressed in fairly informal garb, and headed into a section of Centauri Prime which I believe is called Ghehana." "Ghehana? Why would he go there?" "He was seeking a young woman who had been residing at the palace, apparently. While Londo was there, I came into close enough contact with him that I was able to place a recording device upon him. As I feared, the Drakh detected it before long. It may have put them even more on their guard, but at least I was able to confirm for myself their presence." Before Vir could say anything further, Kane stretched out his hand and a holographic image appeared on it. "It recorded everything within the room," Kane said, "for a few moments, until it was discovered. I thought you might want to see." There appeared a small image of Londo, flickering ever so gently in Kane's hand. And he was talking to ... Vir gasped. Not since the last time he had seen Morden had he felt that he was looking upon the face of pure evil. The creature he saw Londo speaking to ... even without all the warnings that Kane had voiced, Vir would nonetheless have trembled just to see it. The Drakh was speaking to Londo about something ... Vir caught the word "dig" and a designation ... K0643, although he had no idea what that referred to ... and then the Drakh appeared to react to something. He stretched out a hand and the picture fritzed out of existence. "He was a bit more perceptive than I anticipated," Kane admitted with a touch of regret. "After going to all that effort, all I managed to get was that small bit. Still ... at least it should be enough to convince you." "To convince me of what?" "That," Kane said cryptically, "you shall have to determine for yourself." "No, no, no," Vir snapped, biting off each word. "Don't start going enigmatic on me. I'm having a rough enough night as it is. What are you expecting me to do with this ... this information you've tossed in my lap? For that matter, how do I know that this, above all else, isn't some sort of trick?" "If your interest has been piqued, then I suggest you get together with Londo, and get him quite intoxicated, if that is possible. Once he is sufficiently inebriated, say to him the word, `Shiv'kala.' Watch him carefully to see his reaction. But only say it to him when he is truly drunk, because I suspect that if you speak the word while he is sober, then you will surely die before much time has passed. "As for what I'm expecting you to do, Vir, I'm only asking whatever it is that you are personally capable of. No more, and no less, than that." He bowed slightly and headed for the door. "Wait a minute!" Vir called, but the door slid shut behind the initiate. He headed after him-the door opened mere seconds after Kane had passed through it ... and Vir wasn't, for some reason, even remotely surprised to find that Kane was gone. At that moment, Vir wasn't sure who it was he hated more: Kane, Mariel, the Drakh, or himself. He turned back into his quarters and sat down on the bed. Thought of the press of her warm flesh against his. Had there been any of it that she had truly enjoyed? Had it all been a sham? Did she ever feel the slightest twinge of regret over the true motives behind what she was doing? What would he say to her when she returned? Shed show up, expecting that things were going to be exactly as she had left them, unaware that anything had changed. If he said anything to her, shed likely deny it. Perhaps she would deny it because none of it was true. Perhaps ... No. No, it was true. Because as far as Vir was concerned, it all made so much more sense than the notion that a woman like that could become besotted with a man like him. Vir had absolutely no idea what to do. He desperately felt as if he needed someone to talk to about the matter, but he couldn't think of anyone. Everyone he might vaguely have trusted was gone. He didn't fall asleep that night, which wasn't surprising. He dressed the next morning as if in a fog. Stepping out into the corridor, he encountered two ambassadors who solicitously asked after Mariel and looked at him in a way that he would have once seen as genuine smiles, but now saw only as smirks. He turned right around and headed back to his quarters. He sat on the couch, trembling with fury and indignation, and then he began to cry. It was unmanly, it was undignified, but he was alone and he didn't care. He grabbed a pillow and sobbed into it, felt as if his soul was emptying out into that pillow. He would expend all his strength into expelling all his misery and loneliness-and just when he thought he had no more strength to continue, a new fit of weeping would seize him and he would collapse all over again. When he had finally gotten all of the misery and self-pity out of his system, he found that most of th
e day was already gone. What was left within him was a cold, burning desire for revenge . Revenge against the shadowy forces that had twisted and turned his life back on itself for years and years now He had stood helpless before the advent of the Shadow ships that swarmed across the skies of Centauri Prime. He had watched Londo's slow descent into a darkness from which he could never return, and he had been unable to prevent it. He had experienced his own personal hell as he had found the blood of an emperor on his hands. Once more he thought of Mariel, and the merest passing thought of her was enough to enrage him. Ordinarily, he would have been quick to let such feelings go. Life, he had always felt, was too short to let it be caught up in fantasies of vengeance. Not this time, though. This time the hurt had been too personal, the cut too deep. This time someone, or something , was going to suffer consequences for what they had done to him. Perhaps what drove Vir the most was that, for the first time in his life, he didn't care about himself. At least that much of the self-pity remained with him, but it had been forged into something else. It wasn't as if he was despondent. Instead, he was taking that lack of concern for his own well-being, and crafting it into an attitude that he sensed would serve him in the months-perhaps years-ahead. He was not particularly anxious to die, but the notion of life wasn't holding any exceptional allure for him either. Vengeance was beginning to ascend over concerns for his personal safety. He picked himself up and turned his attention to the computer terminal, checked the schedules and saw that there was a transport bound for Centauri Prime the very next morning. He told himself that the serendipity of the timing provided yet another sign that he was embarking upon the right course. He lay upon his bed that evening, quite convinced that he would never be able to so much as close his eyes. To his subsequent surprise, he fell immediately asleep. The next morning he headed straight over to the departures area, walking as if he had blinders on, looking neither right nor left, barely acknowledging anyone he passed, even if they greeted him. He purchased a one-way ticket to Centauri Prime, wondered whether he would ever again set foot on Babylon 5, and came to the realization that he didn't care. As Vir departed B5, he didn't notice Kane watching him go, nor did he see two other similarly robed figures who were standing beside Kane, one male, one female. "You play a dangerous game," said the female, "as does Vir. He has no true idea of what he faces." "Neither do we," replied Kane. "But we, at least, have an inkling. He has nothing except what small pieces of information you have been dropping upon him." "That will have to do." "I mislike it," the woman said firmly. The man standing next to her chuckled. "You mislike everything, Gwynn. At least Kane is stirring things up." "Perhaps. Let us simply hope," said the woman known as Gwynn, "that we do not get caught up cooking in the stew being stirred." Usually for Vir, the time spent in space travel seemed positively endless. He didn't particularly like such journeys, and usually spent them on the edge of his seat, waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for the bulkhead to buckle or the oxygen to leak or the engines to go dead or some other catastrophe to hit. For Vir was always all-too-aware of the fact that a very unforgiving vacuum surrounded them, and only the relatively thin ship's hull stood between him and a violent death. On this voyage, however, he gave it no thought at all. His thoughts were focused entirely upon Centauri Prime and what he would do once he arrived there. Unfortunately, he didn't really know. He wasn't sure how he would approach Londo, or what he would do about the Drakh, or what he could do. These and any number of other considerations tumbled about in his mind. No one was there to meet him when he arrived at the Centauri Prime spaceport, which was fine. He hadn't told anyone he was coming. He wanted his arrival at the palace to come as a total surprise. Somehow he sensed that the only thing he really had going for him was surprise. He wanted to make his movements and actions as unpredictable as possible. The bottom line was, the only person he trusted anymore was himself. As much as he wanted to trust Londo, he had seen far too much for him to be able to place any real confidence in the emperor. Nor did he trust the techno-mage initiate. His first encounter with techno-mages, on Babylon 5, during their great migration, had led him to think of them as tricksters. The terrifying illusion they had cast, of a monstrous creature threatening to rend Vir limb from limb, still occasionally haunted his dreams. Techno-mages, as a group, had their own motivations, their own agendas. There was still the very distinct possibility that Kane had fabricated this entire thing. That there was no such thing as a "Drakh." What he had shown Vir had been so short, so conveniently minimal, that it was impossible for Vir to know for certain just how forthcoming Kane was being. He might have fabricated the entire thing from whole cloth, as a means of undercutting Vir's support for Centauri Prime-and that for reasons Vir could only guess. Which might have meant that the business with Mariel was also fabrication ... But no. No, Vir was positive that wasn't the case. The farther he was away from Babylon 5, the longer he was away from that arena that they had shared, the more clear it became to him. Vir arrived at the palace and was greeted with polite surprise by Londo's personal guard. He was escorted to a waiting room, there to wait until there was a hole in the emperor 's schedule that would allow him to meet with Vir. "Had we only been expecting you, we would have accommodated you with far greater efficiency," Vir was told. He shrugged. It made little difference to him. And as he sat in the waiting room, he couldn't wipe the vision of Mariel from his mind. But he was determined that that was exactly what he had to do. He pictured her face, lathered with contempt, and mentally he started to disassemble it, feature by feature. Plucked out the eyes, removed the nose, the teeth, the tongue, all of it, until there was only a blank space where a woman had occupied so much of his attention. And when she was gone-or at least, when he believed her to be gone-he knew one thing for certain. He knew that if he never, ever, saw a wife of Londo Mollari again, it would be too soon. The door to the waiting room slid open and Vir automatically started to stand. He rose halfway and froze in position. It wasn't Londo standing there in the doorway. Instead it was a diminutive Centauri woman, her face round, her eyes cool and scornful, her lips frozen in a perpetual pucker of disapproval , her demeanor glacial. "You've lost weight, Vir. You look emaciated. You should eat something," said Timov, daughter ofAlgul, wife of Londo Mollari. At that moment, Vir seriously considered gnawing his leg off at the knee just so he could escape. Rumors had begun to falter through the dig. There had been the reputation, of course. Everyone knew the stories. But no one had taken it seriously, not really seriously . There had been discussions of it in the evening hours, but in the early days of the dig, the chats had been like the laughter of children camping out. But months had passed, and there was a sense that they were getting close to something. Nobody knew what that something was, but there was a general and unmistakeable air of foreboding, even among people who were of such a sober-minded nature that they would never have bought into a concept as quaint as aplace being "haunted." Then, there was the question of the disappearing diggers. When one had vanished, no one had thought anything of it. But over the long months, several more had disappeared. At first this had been chalked off to simple desertion, but several of the men who had disappeared had been workers who had absolutely no reason to depart. In fact one of them, a fellow named Nol, just before he had gone missing, was talking about how the dig was the best thing that had ever happened to him. It had gotten him away from a wife he could not stand, children whom he didn't comprehend, and a life that had done nothing but go sour for him. So when Nol had disappeared , that really got eyebrows lifted and tongues wagging. In short, no one knew what was going on. There was some brief discussion of a mass desertion, but representatives of the Ministry of Internal Security had caught wind of it and come in short order to calm the agitation of the workers. Still, to play it safe, workers had started traveling in groups of three or more at all times, never wandering off on their own, never searching around in areas that were considered off limits. They also started spending more time in town. Ironically, there had been no tow
n there before. But, in a case of form following,function, a small trading community had arisen primarily to accommodate the workers. The odd traveler passed through from time to time, but for the most part it was a tight-knit, normal community. Or at least, as normal as could be expected with the aforementioned air of foreboding hanging over it. Meantime, the digging drew closer and closer to that which had been hidden and forgotten for millennia ...