"It would appear so."
"And you have done nothing to stop it?"
"I think you misunderstand the nature of our order, Primarch. We do not act. We shape events so that others may act. I am one man, and one of the weakest in power in our order. I am not here to save the galaxy."
"Oh? That is curious, because I am. Will you lend your power to assist me? I come here seeking allies."
"A fine and noble aim, but I must decline."
"Why?"
"There is a globe, affixed to a wall in Cathedral. Within that globe lies the soul of one of the greatest of our order, trapped there forever, beyond the reach of our power to restore or amend. Her wisdom and power and knowledge are all now lost to us. There is a standing instruction within our order.... the Soul Hunters and those who do business with them are our enemy."
"I make a very bad enemy."
"As do we."
Sinoval pondered this for a moment and then nodded, resigned. "Very well. I thank you for your candour, magus. I ask you only to beware of the Vorlons. They are waiting.... for their turn."
"That I know. I do.... have something which may be able to assist you, Primarch, a piece of advice you will no doubt refuse to heed. You see.... the gift of prophecy is not unknown to us. You have a destiny."
"There is no destiny save that which I make myself."
"I know. You have denied your destiny more than once in your life. Do so if you wish.... but accept your doom. If you deny that, then we are all lost. Speak to the Well of Souls. There you will be able to learn all you wish to know, although I do not think you will like what you hear there."
"Have you ever seen the Well of Souls?"
"No.... and nor do I ever wish to. I do not know what the Well is entirely.... but I know enough to fear it greatly."
"Knowledge is power, so it is said. Within the Well of Souls lies the answer to every question ever asked.... save one. What is that last question?"
"I do not know, although I wish I did."
Sinoval digested this for a moment, and then nodded. "Well.... be at peace, magus. Remember what I have said."
"I would advise you to do the same, Primarch," Vejar replied. He waited until Sinoval had gone and then closed his eyes, remembering the rest of the prophecy he had not told his visitor. The Starfire Wheel would open.... there would be blood and darkness, and two souls would be lost forevermore.
And innocent blood would be shed.
* * *
"Hello, son."
Ambassador David Sheridan had been on the Babylon once or twice before, diplomatic affairs during the final stages of the war with the Minbari, and on its return to Proxima at the end of the war. He didn't like the ship, for the same reasons that Dexter Smith had not. The entire ship was touched by his son. John was everywhere here. Despite the year and a half or so Smith had been in charge, and the extensive Shadowtech overhaul, the ship was still John's.
David Sheridan felt a chill in his spine as he walked into the ready room to see his son. John was standing. He looked well. How had this been done? What had it cost him?
Still, he covered up his shock as well as he was able. He was a career diplomat after all, and despite his one blind spot concerning his son, he had plenty of experience at hiding his emotions.
"Hello, son."
"Dad," John said. He sounded cold. "So.... you are still alive, then. You.... came to see me at Kazomi Seven, didn't you?" David nodded. "I thought it was just a dream. Delenn told me it was just a dream."
"Delenn must have told you a great many things." Ambassador Sheridan looked around at the others in the room. Commander Corwin he recognised of course. There were two Narn security guards — remnants of the infamous Narn Bat Squad from the Parmenion no doubt. And there was her.... the telepath. She stank of Vorlon. "I think we should talk alone." He had come up to the ship alone.
"We stay," said one of the Narns firmly. It was the female.
"No," said John. "Ko'Dath, G'Dan.... I think you should go. David, Lyta.... you too. I'm not in any danger."
"If you say so," muttered Commander Corwin as he left. The two Narns made angry faces. The telepath said nothing.
"It's good to see you again," Ambassador Sheridan said, sitting down. "I'll admit to being surprised.... what happened?"
"I could ask you the same thing. Are you really my dad?"
"Yes, of course I am." He sighed. "Do you remember the time you were studying for your exams.... and you couldn't sleep because it wasn't raining? I went outside, and took up the hose...."
"And made it rain on the roof," John finished. "I remember."
"And every Sunday.... we used to go for a drive."
John nodded. "It is you. I.... don't know if that's a good thing or not. How could you work for them, Dad? Where's Mom? And Liz? Why didn't you let me know...?"
"I would have.... if I could. When I got to Proxima.... you'd gone.... up and left. I wasn't sure what to think, and there wasn't any way of getting in touch with you. As for your mum.... and Elizabeth.... they're both dead. I was the lucky one."
"What happened?"
He sighed. "Some of us tried to get away from Earth before the end. We weren't getting much news in from the Line.... just what we could see above us. But.... there was a moment.... a hesitation in the battle. Some of us tried to get away. We didn't get anywhere of course. The Minbari picked us up easily. They weren't sure what to do with us, for a while....
"Then one of their leaders came in. He gave us to one of his allies.... Warmaster Jha'dur."
"Deathwalker," John whispered in horror.
"She was more than happy with the gift. She hated humans.... all of us. It was her who brought us word that Earth had been destroyed. She was so pleased about that." He shook his head sadly. "Your mother and Liz died there.... in her lab. I don't know what of, exactly. I think your mother was infected with some sort of cancer cells, but I'm not sure. I didn't even see Liz for most of the time, only her body.
"Someone came to see us a bit later on. I don't know how long I was there.... months, probably. Maybe years even. I'd.... been left alone. I don't know why. It doesn't matter. This person came up to see me, a human, which surprised me. He gave his name as Shryne, and he asked me a simple question.... 'What do you want?'"
John sighed, and placed his hand over his eyes.
"An easy question to answer, isn't it, son? I heard the reply you gave to Ivanova. I don't blame you. My answer wasn't too different. I wanted.... I wanted to be free of that place. I wanted peace. I wanted my family revenged, my people revenged. I wanted my people to be safe.
"That seemed to satisfy him. I was set free and brought here, to Z'ha'dum. That's where I learned the truth about the Shadows, about the Vorlons, about this whole conflict of theirs. It's been going on for longer than anyone can say.
"Well, that's me.... What happened to you?"
"I was healed. It doesn't matter. Dad.... come back to Kazomi Seven. You don't owe the Shadows anything. It was their agent that killed Mom and Liz, remember."
"Deathwalker wasn't working for the Shadows. She was.... an independent operator. She had her own goals entirely."
"She infected me with a terminal virus.... She was going to use me to wipe out humanity!"
"That was not our decision, John. She did that all by herself. We just got wind of it later and managed to get hold of a cure. The virus was only intended for the Minbari, not us. The Shadows are very fond of humanity, you know. They want to help us. We can be.... right on top of things this time. They're going to make sure we're never threatened by anyone like the Minbari ever again."
"Where's Delenn?"
Ambassador Sheridan stopped as if physically struck. "What?"
"Where is she?"
"On the surface. John.... she's one of them. She's a Minbari. She's the enemy."
"I love her."
"John, listen to me! You're the only surviving member of my family now. You're my son, and I can forgive you
a lot. You.... fell apart a bit. I can understand that, fighting them all for so long. Long-term combat stress. A nervous breakdown of some sort was inevitable, even without her influencing you. I can understand why you betrayed your people, why you fought against our allies.... what you did to Anna.
"But she played a part in all of that. She's a Minbari. It was her people who destroyed Earth, her people who hid Deathwalker for so long and let her inflict her tortures on both of us. Remember where your loyalties are.... to your people. Not to her!"
"Where is she?!"
Ambassador Sheridan sighed. "She's on the surface. We haven't decided what to do with her yet. I was thinking of sending her to Proxima for a war crime trial. She'd get a fair hearing, I promise you that. It's even possible she'll be acquitted."
"I want to see her."
"John, listen...."
"I need to make sure she's all right."
Ambassador Sheridan sighed. "Fine. You can come down to the surface to see her, if you like. It will also give us a chance to explain just what it is the Shadows are doing.... just what their plans for all of us are. Give them a chance, and you'll find they're nothing like what you've been told. G'Kar, her.... all of them, they've been leading you astray from the beginning."
"I want to see her. Then.... then we'll see."
"Good. You can even bring some of your men if you like. Not the telepath woman, but as many of the others as you wish."
"Just David will be fine. Come on. Let's go."
* * *
Delenn looked into the eyes of the man she had once believed she loved. Her experience with John had now convinced her that what she had felt for Neroon had not been true love, but an exceptionally deep and abiding friendship; a love that had not been romantic or passionate, but a real, lasting affection.
To see him like this....
"I am sorry, Neroon," she said softly. "I do not think we have anything to talk about."
"I did not betray you, Delenn. I would never do that, and I did not betray our people. I simply.... chose another path. Parlonn took this path, the same one as I do now.... a thousand years ago."
"Parlonn was a traitor, was he not?"
"No. He was a visionary, who chose a different destiny for his people. They have told me, Delenn.... all of them. I have seen the Shadows. They are not our enemy! We've been manipulated all along, by the Vorlons, by our own prophecies.... since before Valen.... we've been pushed this way and that."
"I have seen these Shadows, Neroon. I have seen them at war. They attacked our ships, our worlds, our people. Not just Minbari, but all of us. Drazi, Brakiri, Narn.... they exist only to make war."
"No! That's just it, Delenn. You don't understand."
"I don't want to."
He took a step forward and knelt down at her feet. "Delenn," he whispered. "I can free you from this place. I can see you safe. The humans want to kill you.... they want to torture you and execute you. I.... I cannot let that happen."
"The Shadows will...." She swallowed. "They will not be pleased about that."
"I serve them in my own way. I think they recognise that. Agree to serve us, Delenn. Work alongside us. They admire your skills, your strength, your courage. Agree to do that.... and I will protect you." He gently reached up to her face, her human face, and touched her long hair with a quiet wonder.
"You have changed," he whispered. "I like it."
"You have also changed," she said, tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. "You now seem.... so certain of your place. You were so divided before, in the Anla'Shok."
"I was," he said, his hands still in her hair. "Branmer was a good man.... a fine man, but he did not see. He could not see the darkness that was going to engulf us all. In a way, I am glad he passed beyond before it could do so. He would not have wanted to see Minbar as it now is."
"No," Delenn breathed, leaning in close to him. "He would not."
"Now I know, Delenn.... in a way I did not, even with G'Kar. I know where our path is."
"What did they...? Do you.... have a Keeper?" Her voice was so quiet now, it was barely even a whisper.
"No, Delenn. I am myself." Her heart reached out to his heart. "Please, Delenn.... let me protect you. Let me...."
She said nothing. There was nothing to say.
* * *
Talia had done this sort of thing countless times before. It had become a skill, a thing she had learned through training and experience, just as she had learned the arts of disguise, infiltration, sabotage.... murder.
It was strange, the knowledge that all these things could be done by a mundane. They were all things that could be learned, with enough time and effort and will, and with a good teacher. Her talents helped her of course, that went without saying, but how much difference would it have made if she did not possess them? Would she merely rely on instinct, or hunches, as Captain Smith did? Of course, he was one of her people as well, no matter how he tried to deny it.
Fortunately, although he had not been trained in infiltration and stealth, his eventful childhood in Sector 301 had taught him a fair few useful tricks.
Trace's nightclub had a back entrance, as both of them had known it would. It had been guarded, but not very well. The security guard — evidently one of Trace's own thugs and not a proper Security agent — had been half asleep, and a slight telepathic pinprick had sent him the rest of the way. The door had been locked, but Al had long ago provided Talia with a very handy electronic skeleton key which opened it in a few seconds.
The noise from the front of the club had not been as loud as she had expected, which was not good. A lot of noise would serve to cover any bumps and bangs they made in the back. As it was, they would have to be more careful.
Finding Trace's office was simply a matter of trial and error. It was the third room they tried, after stumbling upon an old cupboard and a cloakroom. The lock on the office was considerably better than the one outside, and it took Talia's device over a minute to open it. All the while Smith hopped about nervously, keeping out a watchful eye. Talia wondered if she would have time to teach him how to use his telepathy to keep a more efficient watch, but then she realised he probably would not be strong enough.
Just how powerful was he anyway? Not a P5, certainly. A P3, maybe. P2? Less?
She angrily clicked away these irrelevant musings and returned to the task of unlocking the door. It was soon managed, and she pushed it open.
The office was empty, with the lights off. Talia waited until Smith entered, then pushed the door shut. Only when it was closed did she activate the lights.
"What now?" asked Smith, looking around the office. He was probably disappointed to find it so.... normal-looking. Talia was inclined to agree. Weren't the inner sanctums of notorious gangland bosses meant to be more.... opulent than this? Fancy pictures on the walls, various ornamentations hiding fiendishly cunning spy cameras and poisoned blowpipes?
As it was, the only things on the wall were a half-filled-in year planner for the year just finished, and a calendar featuring women in various degrees of undress. A quick scan of the room with another handy gadget soon revealed that there were no recording devices or security cameras of any sort.
"Now," she said, "we find the evidence we need. I find out how he's involved with the telepaths and IPX, and you find solid evidence of criminal activities you can take to Main Dome to stop Trace oppressing the poor, innocent people of Sector Three-o-one."
"Joke all you like," he said bitterly, looking at the calendar, and twisting his head slightly to grasp the angle. "These people need help just as much as anyone else. Hardly anyone lives here by choice. Do you think anyone can actually get into that position? I mean, without being a contortionist or whatever."
"It's one of life's mysteries I'm perfectly happy to leave unanswered. Come on, we might not have much time." She turned to the desk and began rummaging through the flimsies.
"I had a quick glance out front. There's a fair few celebrities out th
ere. From what I know of him, Trace will be spending as much time with them as possible. Maybe getting in a picture or two thanks to the paparazzi."
"Quite likely. Anyone from IPX out there?"
"The only person from IPX who could even remotely be called a celebrity is the CEO, Orin Zento, and I don't think this is his sort of thing. Even if it were, why advertise the relationship?"
"Good point. What about security guards? Off-duty ones, I mean."
"Possible. I don't know too many. Just Allan, mainly. I didn't see him, which I guess is just as well."
"I think I remember him. He might have been on the Babylon for a short time while I was there. You got rid of him, didn't you?"
"Hmm. I had.... some doubts about his ability to do his job." He began flipping through the pages of the calendar. He gave a soft whistle at one picture.
"Any chance of you doing some work here?" Talia asked, acidly. He jumped away from the calendar as if electrocuted.
"Found anything?" he asked, turning.
"Possibly." She was reading a piece of paper with a grim look on her face. "Have a look at this."
"It's a receipt," he replied, taking it. "Compass Deliveries. Never heard of them."
"Nor me, but they've been doing a lot of work for Trace. Look where everything's been delivered to."
"Sector one-one-one. Warehouse district."
"The last-dated delivery is the day after Byron was taken. Here's another business document. From a cryogenics company. Mr. Trace has bought a great deal of freezer units and storage equipment. All human-sized."
"What? You think your friend was put in cryogenic stasis?"
"Here. Before transportation."
"Why do that? I mean, if he was only being sent to IPX Headquarters, that's.... a couple of hours at most. If the cryo was just for the journey, wouldn't it be easier just to fill him full of tranks, or those.... sleepers?"
"Maybe they're planning to send him quite a bit further than IPX Headquarters. And speaking of sleepers...." She pulled a box out of a drawer. "This would be over two months worth of dosage for a P five rated telepath. There's another six boxes here."
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