A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4

by Gareth D. Williams

  "Hey, Allan," he said. "How's business?"

  "Going okay. Everything's been a little quiet after the New Year celebrations. People sleeping off a hangover or two, I reckon." Sector 301 did not generally go in for celebrating anything, but this year had been an exception. Never mind the news about the permanent posting of the Shadows at Proxima, it seemed that everything was just generally on the up for humanity.

  "Well, I'm not surprised. You had a good night, I take it?"

  Zack had been to the Tron, and been supplied with free drinks and whatever else he liked, all courtesy of Mr. Trace. The man certainly treated his friends well. He had been quite surprised to see several celebrities, politicians and military figures there. "Perfect, as always. You throw the best parties anywhere on the planet."

  Trace laughed. "Well, maybe not yet, but we're working on it. It'll be VM-Day soon. You'll have to come along."

  "Oh, I intend to." VM-Day. Victory over the Minbari. It would be the second anniversary of the Battle of the Second Line in six weeks or so. It was going to be one hell of a party, no doubt about that.

  "So, any news on our fugitive telepath?"

  "We've put out an APB, and I've got plenty of men at all the major tube stations. She was spotted at the Mainline station a couple of days ago, but she managed to escape the pursuit. She's good, I'll say that for her. She's still in three-o-one, I'm certain of it, but.... you know what it's like. You can stay hidden for years in here."

  "Well, we'll find her eventually. You just keep all the exits covered and do your part, Allan. We'll do ours. Say.... did you watch the game last night?"

  "You bet. We were robbed."

  "You can't get the umpires these days. He was clearly safe. I don't know.... I'm tempted to send a few guys round to that umpire's place and teach him a few things...." Trace suddenly laughed. "Just kidding, Allan. Naw, the Swashbucklers are still top of the league, and I can't see the Templars catching them up."

  "It's a tough game against the Shadows next week," Zack mused. "But once they get past that, we're on a pretty easy course for the next few weeks. Reckon we'll be holding the pennant by season's end?"

  "We'd better be. I've got a couple thousand credits resting on it. Well, I'll get back to you, Allan. This place don't run itself.... more's the pity. You going to be at the club tonight?"

  "I wish. We're a bit short-handed here at the moment, so I'm on duty till midnight or so. I'll be down tomorrow, though."

  "I thought you were getting a bigger budget.... hire more guys or something."

  "Naw. The security forces as a whole got a bigger budget and are hiring new guys, but if you were a brand-new, fresh-out-of-college recruit, where would you rather serve? The Pit, or on that new capital ship, the Dark Thunder? Captain Barns has been trying to get a decent Security squad ready for when the ship becomes operational next month. And then after that, there's the other ship, the D.... something."

  "The De'Molay."

  "That's the one. They'll be needing a Security force as well, or at least they will once they get a captain."

  "Hey, that reminds me of something. Fenn and Linton — the bookies — well, they've got some fairly impressive odds running on who's going to be the captain of that ship."

  "It'll be Ramirez, won't it? Thought that one was pretty much done apart from the official announcement."

  "That's what the public thinks, Allan. We had Ryan in at the club last night. Decent enough bloke, really, but he can't hold his drink. Anyway, we got to talking, and there are a few people a bit worried about Ramirez. Oh, he's got the public sewn up, no doubts about that, but the De'Molay.... well, if even half of what Ryan's been telling me is true, then it's as far ahead of the Morningstar as that was ahead of the pre-war ships. And you really don't want to put a ship that powerful or valuable in the hands of someone who put down on his CV that one of his life's ambitions is to 'die with honour'. He might try and ram it into a Vorlon cruiser or something.

  "Tikopai's the choice, they just haven't announced it yet. Ramirez is going to get offered a second's place, maybe on the De'Molay, maybe on the Dark Thunder. They haven't decided yet. Anyway, Fenn and Linton have got odds of twelve to one on Tikopai, so I'd bet the farm on her."

  "Hey. Will do. Thanks for the news."

  "No problem. Anyway, I'd better be going. This place don't run itself, you know. Let me know the instant you get anything through on the woman.... and just keep an eye on Smith. Don't do anything.... but let me know if he leaves three-o-one for any reason."

  "Will do. See you later."

  The screen returned to its main image, and Zack sat back, thinking. Trace wasn't actually that bad a person.... really. Besides, he didn't have many friends these days.

  He lounged back on his chair, contemplated looking over the case backlog, decided against it, and switched on the vidscreen. There was a classic Reebo and Zooty on.

  10. The Emperor's Personal Quarters, the Royal Court, Centauri Prime, January 5th 2261.

  "What are you doing here?" Londo asked. "You are aware that we are meant to be at war, aren't you?"

  "No," replied his visitor, with perfect aplomb. "I must have missed that. I have been a little indisposed these past few years, after all." G'Kar smiled. "I still have a few agents here on Centauri Prime, if you care to remember. Minister Cotto and your bodyguard were more than capable of smuggling me in here, and they'll be just as capable of getting me out."

  "Why didn't you let me know you were here?" Londo asked, moving forward. He went to his drinks cabinet and began studying the bottles carefully. There must be some decent-quality brivare around.

  "You are the Emperor these days, Mollari. I could hardly just beep you and let you know I would be in town. Congratulations on your ascension, by the way."

  "Congratulations," he repeated hollowly. "Yes...." He poured himself a glass and drained it quickly. He then began to pour another one. "I have never craved power.... All I wanted to do was heal my people."

  "Was there any other way to do that?"

  "I don't know. A question I have been asking myself a great many times recently. I was never born to rule, G'Kar." He turned and offered a bottle to his companion. The Narn shook his head with a grimace. Londo smiled, and replaced it on the shelf. "But now I am here.... I never wanted this."

  "Power.... is a great burden."

  "Yes, I suppose it is. How is it that you are.... um.... in the flesh these days? I heard there was a battle at the Great Machine, but alas, news has been very slow to reach us recently."

  "There was a battle, yes," G'Kar said slowly, bowing his head. "A hard-fought one. Too many died. The Great Machine is lost.... to all of us now."

  "Great Maker," Londo breathed. "It was that bad?"

  "It was that bad. It took me.... some time to heal. We lost many."

  "Delenn," Londo breathed. "Is she...?"

  "Alive," G'Kar nodded. "Heartsick and weary.... but alive."

  "Thank the Great Maker. I miss her, you know. The time we were together.... on that insane little quest you sent us on.... Ah, I am no doubt crazy for thinking this, and I am sure I am forgetting some details.... but I would far rather be doing all that again.... than be here. Am I crazy?"

  "You always have been, so I see no reason why you should stop merely because you wear a fancy coronet and sit on a comfortable chair."

  "Comfortable? Bah.... you should try that infernal throne! I have never sat anywhere less comfortable."

  "Methinks the Emperor doth protest too much."

  "No. Trust me on this. I would rather sit on the floor, but I fear my entire Government would have an apoplexy if I did that. They are having enough trouble adjusting to there being a woman in their midst. I do not know.... you would think they had never seen one before."

  Londo paused, and sipped at his drink. It tasted painfully bitter. "So, old friend," he said. "What brings you to my home?"

  "A hope that, this time.... I can get right, what I failed to do last ti
me." Londo assumed a quizzical expression. "I tried to hold a summit in the middle of last year.... hoping to get all the major allies together.... so that everyone could work as one to fight the Enemy. We were.... unfortunately interrupted. The war has now started in earnest.... and we must all learn to recognise who our real enemies are. There must be peace between our two races, Mollari.... We must both ready our forces to fight the real Enemy."

  "Peace.... that I can support," Londo said thoughtfully. "But war with these Shadows.... No, G'Kar. We are too weak for that.... far too weak. I will not commit myself to a war we cannot win."

  "You did so easily enough once before. Do you remember? When first we met?"

  "I remember.... and you are the second person recently to remind me of an old promise. But my response to you is the same as it was to him. I am no landless, rootless wanderer now. I am Emperor of the Centauri Republic, leader of billions of people! I will not throw their lives away needlessly by committing to a war that cannot be won."

  "It can be won, Mollari."

  "That remains to be seen. However.... I do want peace between Narn and Centauri. Whether my generals and my people want it.... is another matter. But my Government will support such an initiative.... of that I am sure. What are you proposing? An embassy here?"

  "Well.... not here as such. I had somewhat.... loftier ideas."

  "I am listening."

  "The Kha'Ri appointed an Ambassador to the United Alliance at Kazomi Seven some months ago. I believe there have been hopes that the Narn Regime will join the Alliance. How would the Centauri Republic react if invited to join the Alliance?"

  Londo paused, and drained his drink. "That.... would be a difficult question. That would involve us in conflicts not our own.... We wish our captured lands returned to us.... we wish an end to the war.... and we want a chance to rebuild our shattered world.

  "However.... speaking from a position of some influence within the Centauri Republic, I can say that we would at least be open to the idea. I was in the process of appointing an Ambassador to Kazomi Seven, just as soon as I could find an honest man to fit the position."

  "Then.... why do you not gain further information from which to make such a choice?"

  "I do not understand."

  "Visit Kazomi Seven yourself."

  Londo began to laugh.

  11. E'ibrek K'Tarr, Tak'cha Warship, on the Minbari / Tak'cha Border, January 6th 2261.

  Sonovar was thinking about him again.

  Sinoval. The Primarch Nominus et Corpus. Entil'zha. Holy One of the Grey Council. Warleader of the Wind Swords clan.

  An impressive list of titles. Completely unnecessary, of course. An affectation, or possibly a symptom. Sinoval was as interested in the trappings of power as he was in the power itself. Oh, of course he wanted to command great armies, to decide policy and fate, to will the stars to fade at his whim.... but the accumulation of all those titles spoke of something else. A need for a greater glory.

  On the other hand, Sinoval had abandoned all of those lately, hadn't he? He kept only the name of Primarch, and that had been thrust upon him by the Soul Hunters.

  We are not as different as either of us would wish, he mused, looking up at the Tak'cha ceremony going on around him.

  Sonovar himself had chosen to give up the bulk of the titles he had amassed over the years. He bore only the name of Zaron'dar, a mouthful which the Tak'cha had given him. He supposed it meant something to them, unless it was just a corruption of his name.

  What had he told Sinoval's pretty worker? "My name will be title enough." Had he even told her that? Maybe he'd just thought about it.

  Oh well.

  The Tak'cha were performing some sort of weird ceremony. Ramde Cozon had tried to explain it to him, something about favourable stellar configurations, the will of the Z'ondar and the anniversary of the Feast of Sperethiel, or some such. Sonovar recognised Sperethiel, actually. There had been a great battle fought there, where Valen and the Tak'cha had routed a fleet of the Shadows' allies. It had been one of the last major engagements the Tak'cha had fought before being banished from Valen's side.

  Now that had been a truly foolish decision. What if the Tak'cha were a little.... obsessive? It just made them easier to control. Valen must have been a fool indeed. A good bureaucracy, and advisors he could trust, that had probably been the secret of his success.

  Sonovar had neither advantage, but all that meant was that he would have to work harder. There was no problem so large, so insurmountable that it could not be solved with enough hard work.

  He was still musing on this and watching the ceremony when he became aware of a soft hiss at his side. He turned, and started as he saw Forell there. He bit back an angry retort and accepted that he really should have got used to this by now. Forell seemed to make appearing out of nowhere a habit. How could he possibly move so damned quietly?

  Still, best not to let him realise just how rattled it made him. A great leader was always careful not to let those who followed him see any sign of weakness.

  "He has returned, great lord," Forell whispered in a conspiratorial tone. He was probably enjoying this, being so close to the Great Lord Sonovar. Well, let him. One as worthless as Forell was hardly worthy of any consideration.

  There was no need to ask who 'he' was. "Where is he?"

  "In your audience chamber, great lord."

  "Did he succeed?"

  "That is something he will have to tell you himself, great lord."

  Sonovar instinctively raised his fist, then lowered it again. He could not let Forell see how excited he was. If 'he' had succeeded, then.... No.... No point making plans from an outcome he could not predict. "How is he?"

  "Slightly injured, but not seriously. I took the liberty of asking Tirivail to look at him."

  Sonovar glanced up at the ceremony, and decided it was not likely to be finished for another few hours. He had plenty of time to return to his ship and learn the results of his latest plan. He left the chamber without a word, Forell obediently tagging along behind him.

  Neither of them said anything during the shuttle journey back to the ship. Sonovar did not want to speak, and Forell obviously knew better than to disturb his 'Great Lord'. Sonovar was thinking about him again. Sinoval. If this plan had worked.... if it had worked, then Sinoval's power would be broken. Completely. If....

  One look at Kozorr's face, and Sonovar knew he had failed.

  Biting back a curse, he glanced across at Tirivail. She had been one of the first to swear herself to his side, one of the surviving members of Kalain's Grey Council, and a fine warrior. She knew where the true future of the Minbari lay, which was more than could be said for her sister. She had also been making appreciative eyes at Kozorr for a while now. Sonovar glared at her and she left, whispering something to Kozorr as she did so. He started as if stung, and then nodded.

  "I failed," Kozorr said, as soon as he and Sonovar were alone.

  "Tell me," Sonovar replied.

  "It was.... incredible. I had no idea. Nothing prepared me for...." He shook his head. "They call it the Well of Souls. It's the base for the entirety of Cathedral's power, just as you told me. But it's.... so much more than you said. It seems to be an entire collection of souls, all joined together. Some of them from races I've never even heard of. I wouldn't be surprised if it's older than Cathedral itself."

  "You couldn't destroy it?"

  Kozorr shook his head. "A million warriors couldn't have destroyed that thing. It.... summoned creatures up to fight me. Beings I've heard about only in myths and legends and rumours. No, I'm sorry, Sonovar. It can't be destroyed that way. Maybe not at all."

  Sonovar swore, but then he lifted his head. Fine. A failure, but not a catastrophic one. They had valuable information now, knowledge they had not had before. And perhaps the ruse was not over with yet. "Sinoval?" he asked, trying to conceal how much hatred he felt at the speaking of that name.

  "He knows. He let me go. He let me com
e back to you."

  "Overconfident. That's always been his flaw. Much too overconfident. And...." He paused. "What about.... her? Your pretty little worker?" Kats. It had been her Sonovar had to thank for so many of his recent victories. Kozorr's love for her had made it possible to trap him and turn him against Sinoval.

  "She cried when she saw me."

  "Do you think she loves you as you love her?"

  "I.... don't...." He sighed. "I don't know. How can she? He is there. I'm not. He is able to share her life, he can talk to her, praise her beauty and her courage.... tell her just how I've betrayed all of them." He rose to his feet, and in one swift motion extended his short, one-handed pike.

  "I want to be worthy of her!" he cried, striking the pike against the wall.

  "You will be. You are here, after all. You have chosen your own path, not one chosen for you by another. We have time. You will prove worthy of her.... in her eyes, and your own." In some strange way, Sonovar really did hope Kats chose Kozorr instead of Sinoval. He actually liked the little worker, which was strange. She had been so pretty as she had defied him, and her tears when she had thought Kozorr was dead....

  "Stay here and rest for a while. We've lost nothing but time, and that is on our side far more than his. I'll send Tirivail back to you. Meanwhile, I think I've got to get back to that ritual something-or-other. I swear to you, sometimes it's as bad as being around the priestlings."

  Kozorr chuckled, and nodded. Sonovar left.

  Forell was standing outside the room, the recipient of very dark glares from Tirivail. Nobody trusted Sonovar's scarred and mutilated advisor, but Sonovar did not mind, for he did not trust him either. Still, the cripple had his uses.

  "What now, great lord?"

  And one of those uses was as a sounding-board.

  "Now.... hmm.... Smaller scale, I think. Raids on Alliance shipping lanes. See if we can frame Sinoval for this. After all, the only Minbari warships around are his, correct? I'm not sure how long that deception can last, but it will be good for something.

  "And the Tak'cha.... They can do what they can to paralyse trade to Tarolin Two. Sinoval's 'empire' is still small. With a bit of work, we might be able to stop it getting any bigger. Yes, and then...."