"The field of human achievement," Morden said. "A never-ending struggle for self-improvement."
"That's it in a nutshell, sir. We need something to aim for. Reckon the Minbari took that from us, but we're getting it back. They started up the baseball again. You a baseball fan, sir?"
"I used to be. I haven't really had time to keep up with things recently."
"Ah. Well, if you're a betting man, I've put a couple of creds on the Swashbucklers. Proxima team. My cousin's in the team, you know. Well, third cousin a couple of times removed or something, but hey, family's family, right? People don't believe me when I tell them that, but it's true."
"I believe you."
"Well, thanks, sir. It's always nice to get a real gentleman in the cab. I mean, I had to change routes because all I ever got were the students at the Medical and Law Colleges down in Sector Two-four-five. Awful they were. Singing and capering around, and throwing up all the time. Well, I needed the money, mind, but I much prefer this route. It's nice to have someone to talk to who can say something serious. I mean, the kids o' today, they don't know what it was like all those years during the war. Here we are, just got things back on track after all that time of hard work, all that loss, and those kids act like they don't have to work for nothing any more. A lot of them don't know what it's like to go through all that, or if they did, they've forgotten. I mean, me and Rosa, our kids might be at university now.... if they were still alive, you know. The eldest one died at Orion, and our little girl.... well, she starved to death the following winter. Parents aren't meant to outlive their children, you know. There's something just.... wrong about it all. You got any children, sir?"
"No.... I.... I guess I just never met anyone I loved enough to have children with."
"Ah, you'll find someone, sir. I'm sure of it. One of them classy businesswomen types, I'm sure. Had one of them in the back of my cab.... Heh heh, just kidding. Little cabbie's humour. Well, you've got to laugh at some things, don't you? If you don't laugh, you cry, ain't that the truth?"
"Oh, undoubtedly."
"Well, here we are, sir. Edgars Building, just like you asked." The taxi came to a halt. "It's been a real pleasure driving you, sir, you know that. You're not like most of these types I get."
"Thank you," Morden said, genuinely pleased. He handed over his credit chit. "Take an extra ten percent. Take the wife out for a meal or something."
"Why, thanks, sir. Real generous of you, sir. If you ever need another ride anywhere, just give me a call. Pleasure taking you anywhere. There's my card and everything. Good luck with your business, sir."
"Thank you," he said, taking back the card and stepping out of the taxi. The Edgars Building, headquarters of Interplanetary Expeditions. He sighed, and began to trot up the steps to the front door. He wondered if the old man himself would be in.
He began to whistle to himself. It was good to be home.
* * *
Sinoval took slow, deep breaths, trying to remember all the meditative techniques he had learned in his youth from Sech Durhan. There had been times he had derided meditation as a priestling excuse to sit down for a while and not do any work, but now he understood the need for a mental and emotional equilibrium, a chance to calm and quieten himself, to soothe his soul and ready himself for the rigours ahead.
Unfortunately, while priestlings were very good at meditating in quiet places, a warrior used different techniques, concentrating on his weapon and the motions and passions of combat; the knowledge that he would be required to give his life for his people, to defend them to his last breath, past the exhaustion of his flesh....
Warrior caste meditation required his weapon, and these days Stormbringer did not bring much aid in that regard. The Well of Souls might be more helpful, but after his last journey there, he had been uncomfortable. He could feel the winds of fate and the future rising up before him, rushing into a hurricane. He would soon be standing in its eye.
He did not believe in fate, or destiny. Such things were shaped by the will and actions of mortal beings. There was nothing written that had to come to pass, no true prophecies of the future, nothing that could not be changed.
An aide came up to him. A Brakiri. "The Council is ready to see you now," she said. She did not seem visibly intimidated by him, which made him smile. It was good to see courage in his allies.
He had been on Kazomi 7 for some days now, making deals, visiting the dignitaries one by one, ascertaining their allegiances, their beliefs. He had spoken to Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar and Emperor Londo Mollari, and to members of G'Kar's Rangers who more than lived up to their Minbari antecedents. He had held meetings with Minister Lethke, and Taan Churok, and Ambassador G'Kael. He had gone to seek counsel from the technomage Vejar, and issued a warning to the Vorlon Ambassador Ulkesh.
Now he was ready to meet the Council as a whole, to present to them his information about the true reasons for Delenn's disappearance. He would expose the Vorlons for what they were and win over the support of the Alliance, becoming their leader in the war against both Shadow and Vorlon, and against any and all who would seek to oppose them.
He walked forward into the room. The Council was indeed waiting for him. Those who had been here when the Alliance had been formed, visiting dignitaries such as the Centauri Emperor, Ambassadors from foreign powers. There were five spaces empty.
One, at the head of the table, was for Delenn herself. Sinoval looked at the empty chair and felt a resurgence of the great anger he had experienced when receiving her message. Hopefully Sheridan would return with her, both of them back safe.
The second empty space was obviously Sheridan's, or that of his second. There was a human sitting beside it, one Sinoval did not recognise. He looked ill-at-ease, and paled before Sinoval's gaze. A nonentity.
The third belonged to the other Drazi representative on the Council — Vizhak. He had been away for some weeks, visiting the Drazi homeworld on diplomatic business. He was expected back soon.
Vejar was not here. He had rarely been seen in public since the Vorlon had arrived, for reasons known only to himself. He had made it clear to Sinoval that he would not come to this meeting. They had spoken some days ago, and had shared mystical and unclear premonitions of the future.
And there was also a large Vorlon-shaped hole in the corner of the room. Ulkesh was not here. Sinoval was not surprised, but he did wonder what the Vorlon was planning. Whatever it was, it would not be enough.
He walked to the head of the room and turned to face the Council. Then he began to speak.
* * *
You remember this, don't you?
You were angry. Filled with a great and terrible rage. One you loved dearly had died in your arms, the victim of an unprovoked and savage attack. You did not stop to think.... There was no time for thought. All those meditation rituals he had taught you, everything you knew about how to control your emotions, your rage.... all forgotten, all lost.
And so you condemned a world and a people. An entire race of sentient beings, children of the universe, just like you and me.
Ah, but who can forgive you? Not I, certainly. I have seen the karmic wheel turn, and spin, and revolve. You took their world, and they took yours. You destroyed their hopes and dreams, and they found new ones in the destruction of all that you are. You have suffered greatly, more than any sentient being could and still survive, I feel. And yet I feel there is more suffering ahead.
I'm sorry. I've been sorry for that day for the last fifteen years.... but when.... when will we have paid?
Payment? Ah, but for what? For destroying their homeworld and killing so many billions? Well, they ruined your world and
killed so many of your people. Perhaps the scales are balanced now. How many of them did you kill? How many of you did they kill? A matter of numbers, I suppose it comes down to.
That's not what I meant.
What? What do you mean?
You have destroyed their future as well. And to save it.... perhaps you will have to sacrifice yours.
* * *
"So," said the old man as his visitor stepped inside the office. "How was Centauri Prime?"
"A little disordered," said Morden. "But that's normal for the time of year."
The old man smiled. "It's good to have you back here. It's just not the same without anyone to talk to. Oh, there's Zento of course, but he's too busy running the public side of the place, making sure we get all the funds and influence we need to.... to do the real work. I don't think he really believes, anyway. It's a game to him. The money's just a way of keeping score." The old man shook his head sadly. "No, he doesn't see the.... the true cause behind this. He doesn't understand."
"How many people ever do?" asked Morden. "How many people even want to?"
"Right as ever, my friend. I'm sorry. I must be depressing you. Here, do you want some orange juice? They've tried growing some oranges in the farming zones outside the Fourth Dome. I fear they haven't quite perfected the process yet, but they're getting there. Slowly. It still costs a fortune, of course."
"No, thank you. I'm afraid my stomach is still full from all that brivare they stuffed down my throat on Centauri Prime." Morden made a face. "Absolutely revolting stuff. I don't know how they stomach it."
"Just one of the many hardships we have to suffer in the name of our great cause."
"True enough, and I suppose compared to their cells and their politicking it wasn't so much of a burden."
The old man sat down, and Morden sat opposite him. He was cradling a glass of orange juice, and making wistful smiles as he sipped at it. "So, just how was Centauri Prime? Did the Emperor accept our offer?"
"No. He's come down with a bad case of social conscience. The.... troubles we found out about in the middle of last year were more severe than we'd guessed. Things are quite bad there. Improving now of course, but still problematic. I thought that the Emperor would be willing to agree to anything that would help him, but.... it seems I underestimated him. I won't do that again."
"He drove a hard bargain?"
"Worse than that. He flat out refused to commit to anything that might beggar his people in the long run. A very canny man. I actually sort of like him."
"And what about.... them?"
"Ah." Morden's easy tone evaporated. "Not so good. Someone at the Court has been in negotiation with them. I can make an educated guess, but there's no solid evidence, just circumstantial. I'm convinced Mollari doesn't know a thing about it. After all he's seen, there's no way he'd make a deal with them, especially if he turned down an alliance with us.
"No, I'm inclined to think someone's either trying to gain a little personal power in the new system, or that they're genuinely trying to save the people, and don't want the Emperor's conscience getting in the way. A.... fairly sizeable fleet of Shadow ships came to defend Centauri Prime when the Narns attacked. Shortly afterwards I was arrested and imprisoned."
"How were the cells there?"
Morden flashed a smile. "A nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Fortunately, we do have a friend in the Court. He got me out, and.... well, everyone else just had a great deal of problems seeing me."
"What about the seeresses? How many are still alive?"
"Of any real power.... I'm betting on none, although one or two might have escaped. The troubles last year were marked by an extreme psionic backlash across the whole planet. The seeresses and telepaths fell apart completely, and those with the strength to endure the turmoil were soon murdered in the rioting." The old man swore. "My sentiments exactly. I knew the Enemy was trying to stamp them out after Lady Morella's.... death, but I was in no way expecting them to be able to swamp the whole planet."
"It spread chaos, and lots of it. They've always been partial to that."
"Indeed. It also pushed the Centauri closer to an alliance with them. I wouldn't be surprised if they were expecting someone more like Cartagia to take over. He'd have been quite happy to make a permanent deal with them. As it turns out however, he was too clever for their own good, and they're stuck with Mollari."
"How many of their.... devices are on the planet?"
"No way of telling. I managed to locate the first creature when I was there a few years ago, back when Lady Morella was killed. Some of the nobles there had been only too happy to open negotiations with a new trading race. It was the Vree, by the way, I found that out. Some of their merchant caste had made a deal with the Enemy via the Drakh. Anyway, the Vree merchants sold on the psionic devices to the nobles, telling them that they would prevent telepathic scans of their estates. As you can imagine, they were bought up by the barrel-load. When they were ready the Shadows activated them, and people all over the planet started to go mad."
"One of the same devices that killed Lady Morella?"
"Well, one of the things that encouraged her maid to do it, and then to kill herself afterwards. Lady Morella was a bit too powerful and too well connected for their liking, I suspect. After I found and destroyed the device, things calmed down. And then of course I was suspected of murdering Morella and thought it prudent to be away from Centauri Prime for a while.
"While I was gone, they must have kept dropping the devices all over the place. One of the more nastier elements of their biotechnology. Alive, sentient and psionically very powerful. The Enemy turned them all on at once, and the entire planet fell apart. Things are quieter now. I'm not sure if the devices were found and destroyed, or if they've got what they wanted with the whole thing and are happy to stop frying everything on Centauri Prime.
"Still, I'll say one thing for the place though," he added with a smile. "Primarch Sinoval was a very long way away."
"Him again. Oh yes, we are going to have to do something about him."
"It's just a matter of direction, surely? He's not allied with us, and he certainly isn't allied with them. Set him after the Enemy, and then we can sit back and watch the fur fly. He's arrogant enough to think he can storm the gates of Z'ha'dum by himself, and maybe lucky enough to do it as well."
"And that, no doubt, is exactly what the Enemy will be planning."
"He's a direct sort of person," Morden said, musing for a moment. "One of the reasons he dislikes our side is that he can't stand what he perceives as our manipulation of his people, his to rule. Given that we've written them all off as a bad job, if we just ducked low and stayed out of his way for a while, he's more likely to focus his efforts on Sonovar and the Enemy."
"That is not too likely, I am afraid. He was confirmed as being on Kazomi Seven this week."
"Ah.... That's not good."
"I think you might be overestimating his abilities."
"I've met him. Trust me on this. He may not have the power to destroy everything we've built, but he thinks he has, and he's certainly willing to try. Just how likely is he to stumble over our activities there?"
"You've met him. You tell me."
Morden moaned. "Is there anywhere we can count on? I have this vision of everything falling apart."
"Well.... something's going according to plan anyway. We finished the construction here last month."
"Ah." Morden smiled. "That is good news. Can I see it?"
"Certainly. Come right this way."
* * *
"I come here.... in a spirit of alliance and co-operation. T
hat is after all the meaning of this place, is it not? Different races allied together for mutual advantage, a shelter together from the raging storms that crash and wail in the galaxy outside us.
"But no matter how we try to hide from it, the storm will find us out in the end. No shelter can last forever, no wall can endure an onslaught indefinitely. The storm will come here.
"No doubt you will try to fight it. I will try to fight it. We might even do so together. What will it cost us to win? What has it cost us so far? Minbar? The Great Machine? Babylon Four?
"Delenn...?
"But what if we win? Victory is not impossible, not at all. We managed it a thousand years ago, and we can manage it now. So we win, and we return to our homes, to our shelters and our walls....
"And the greater Enemy arises. The storm that builds slowly within our walls, the storm that waits for the winds outside to die down before destroying everything within."
"I assume you are speaking of the Vorlons, Primarch Sinoval?"
Sinoval turned his gaze to Minister Lethke, who had spoken. The Brakiri had a reputation for considerable shrewdness and political acumen. Sinoval had certainly seen that when they had met a few days ago. He had told Lethke a little more than he had told the others, although not as much as Mollari or G'Kar.
"I am indeed."
"The Vorlons are our allies," said Lethke. "They have offered us their assistance against the Shadows."
"For their own purposes. You, I.... everyone, we are caught in the middle of a conflict between Vorlon and Shadow. What does it matter if we defeat the one, only to be enslaved by the other?"
"You may well be right, Primarch," spoke up a soft voice, and Sinoval looked at Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar. He had been notably inconspicuous since he and Mollari had visited the Well of Souls. This was the first time they had been in the same room since.
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