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The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

Page 6

by Gareth D. Williams


  The Narn raised his head and stared into the night sky above his homeworld. The sky full of stars never ceased to remind him of his purpose, and his true significance. Once he had roamed these stars, but now he was here, returned to the familiar soil of his homeworld. The Centauri might have left it in ruins, but Narn held a soul that could never be lost, not so long as one of its children believed.

  After the service, the Narn had to greet a few of those who had made the long journey to hear him. Many wept, and asked him to bless them. He had declined, saying that they must bless themselves. He had shared words of comfort and words of sorrow and words that would forever change their lives. At first few had come here, drawn more by his reputation and his history than by his words or his wisdom, but now more came, and each one spread news of his teachings and still more arrived. He had enemies, he knew, but political enmities mattered nothing in the face of the onslaught that was coming, and the salvation that would forestall it.

  Finally, with the dark night sky overhead, the Narn returned to his quarters. They were simple and unfurnished. Only a cot, a stone table, a rack of candles and a copy of the Book of G’Quan, given to him by his grandfather, who had died never having seen freedom for Narn.

  And there were two people.

  “A stirring speech, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar,” said the first. Another Narn. His companion stood silent, head bowed.

  G’Kar nodded in welcome and began to light the candles, feeling the light from each one suffusing his soul. As he passed the Book of G’Quan he touched it reverently. Only when all the candles were lit did he turn to his two companions, and his greatest friends.

  “It is good to see you again, Ta’Lon. The galaxy is becoming far too dangerous these days. What news do you bring?”

  “Not good, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar.” G’Kar sighed softly at the title. Holy One. He had told Ta’Lon not to use it, but the man was determined in his vision. “Sheridan the Starkiller was betrayed on Vega Seven and captured by members of the Wind Swords clan of the Minbari. He was taken to Minbar in chains.”

  “Great G’Quan!” G’Kar breathed. “Betrayed? By Na’Far?”

  “Yes,” Ta’Lon replied. “By Administrator Na’Far. But somehow, Sheridan escaped from Minbar. Our agents have not been able to find out how, except that it was remarkably easy for him to do so. One of the Grey Council – Satai Delenn – disappeared at the same time. The reports from our agents on Minbar seem divided. Some say Sheridan captured her, others that she helped him flee and went with him. None seem certain, although what is certain is that the Grey Council is now more warrior-biassed than ever. Without Satai Delenn’s opposition, Satai Sinoval, head of the Wind Swords clan, will almost certainly be named Ranger One, and maybe even Holy One once the period of mourning for Dukhat ends.”

  “I have heard of this Sinoval. I do not like what I have heard.”

  “Sinoval is an ambitious man,” said the third person, breaking his silence. “I have known him well. He genuinely believes he is the person to lead in the fight against the Enemy, and he may be, for all we know. He is skilled, intelligent and well–liked, but he is also vain, arrogant and determined. He will be opposed to what we have built here, of that you may be sure. He may demand that we swear loyalty to him.”

  “And will you do that?” G’Kar asked.

  “I have sworn myself to your side, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar,” Ta’Lon said simply. “To you and to your dream.”

  “I also.”

  “I thank you for your loyalty, and I pray that I am worthy of it. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar. Sheridan made to return to Vega Seven, undoubtedly to discover why he was betrayed there. What he found… we are not sure. No word has come from our agents there, and no one has been able to reach Vega Seven by communications in over four days. The last message we received said simply, ‘It is awakening.’ The entire colony was destroyed, as were two Minbari warships above the planet.”

  “Sheridan?”

  “No,” said the third. “Sheridan is a skilled warrior, but not that skilled. The Enemy has returned to Vega Seven and regained the vessel they hid there centuries ago.”

  “So, they are moving faster than we had thought, and they must be confident indeed, to risk an attack like this.”

  “Little confidence, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar. There is no proof it was them. The Kha’Ri believe it was the Centauri. The Earthers believe it was the Minbari. The Minbari believe it was Sheridan. The Centauri… do not care.”

  “But they are coming, faster and stronger than ever before. G’Quan aid us. And these developments regarding Sheridan… I do not like them. Sheridan is becoming more and more of a force in this galaxy, whether for good or ill I do not know.”

  “Would you like us to contact him, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar?” Ta’Lon said. “Perhaps bring him here?”

  “Not yet. We know too little about him, apart from his skill. No, if he wishes to come here, then so be it, but we cannot risk alerting him to what we are building if his sympathies lie with the Enemy. I think our greatest concern is with his betrayal. I knew Na’Far, and he would not do something like this, not without orders. This came from the Kha’Ri, I would stake my eye on it. Find out who, and why. Was this simply money, or something deeper? G’Quan bless you both.”

  “G’Quan bless you, Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar.”

  “Walk with Valen,” said the third, removing the hood of his black, warrior caste robe. The sight of a Minbari on Narn was rare, but this was a rare Minbari. “The Rangers on Minbar were meant to be our greatest line of defence against the Enemy, and under Branmer they were, but Branmer is gone, and the Rangers are gone with him. The Rangers we have created here must not fail. Valen walk with you, G’Kar, and Valeria’s blessings fall on you.”

  “And with you, Neroon.”

  The two of them went, leaving G’Kar alone. No, not alone. He was never alone. He had his book, and his dreams, and the souls of a billion Narns to guide him.

  And he had something else.

  “Are you there?” he asked softly. The Vorlon moved forward, coming into view. As G’Kar raised his eyes, the Vorlon’s encounter suit opened. G’Kar smiled softly. “G’Lan,” he breathed.

  * * * * * * *

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Delenn.”

  “Of the Grey Council?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which clan?”

  “Mir.”

  General Hague sat watching the interrogation silently, resting against the wall opposite their Minbari prisoner. He had never ceased to be amazed by Sheridan’s luck, never since the defence of Orion 7 where Sheridan had rescued him and others in the Resistance Government, but this… this surprised even him. Perhaps Sheridan had at last delivered the means for humanity to leave this barren rock at Proxima 3 and take back their rightful place in the galaxy. Perhaps this frail Minbari woman with the eyes of fire could spell the way to humanity’s restoration.

  And they would have Sheridan to thank for it.

  Again.

  And then there was Sheridan’s other guest, and the promise of allies. Hague was still unsure about that, but he was in a definite minority there.

  He shifted his attention back to the interrogation. Delenn was staring directly into the eyes of her questioner – a Security official named Welles. Hague was surprised that Welles had not averted his gaze by now. The fire in Delenn’s eyes would have caused anyone to back away, but Welles met it equally. There was something strange in the way that Delenn reacted to Welles. Almost as if he reminded her of someone.

  “Name the other members of the Grey Council.”

  Silence.

  “Name the other members of the Grey Council. I believe there are nine of you in total?”

  “We are Nine, formed by Valen a thousand years ago, to bring peace and order to Minbar. We stand between the candle and the star, between the darkness and the light.”

  “Very pret
ty,” Welles intoned. “But you didn’t answer my question. Name the other members of the Council. Eight names. Surely that is a simple enough thing?”

  Silence.

  “That’s enough,” Hague said. “She’s stubborn.”

  “She’ll break. Trust me.” Hague knew that Delenn spoke English, and so he and Welles had shifted to another Earth language – German – in an attempt to confuse her. Hague spoke passable German and Welles… he did everything perfectly. “All we need is time, and a little persuasion.”

  Hague flicked a glance at Delenn, as immobile as a statue. A statue with eyes that burned. There was a bruise underneath her left eye. “No torture. We can’t risk killing her. There is another way.”

  “Her?”

  He nodded. “You don’t like her?”

  “I don’t trust her. There is a difference. I don’t trust any of them. While Psi Corps was still around, at least they were controlled. Now they’re all free agents.”

  “None of us is free. Not while the Minbari live.”

  The door opened and Hague turned. In walked three people. One was a security guard who admitted the other two, and then stepped back outside. One was Sheridan, the man the Minbari called Starkiller, greatest hero of this generation. And the third…

  “Lyta Alexander, telepath rating P five,” Welles said formally. “Welcome.”

  She looked at Delenn, and Hague nodded. Welles grudgingly gave up his seat and Lyta took it. “Give me a moment to prepare myself.”

  Hague nodded again and turned to Sheridan. The Starkiller was staring at Delenn with a fire in his eyes that matched even hers. “Good to see you, Captain,” Hague said, in English. “Have you been checked out by our doctors?”

  “I was examined by Dr. Kyle aboard the Babylon. I’m fine, General. How is the interrogation going?”

  “Slowly. Minbari are stubborn at the best of times. Miss Alexander should hopefully be able to pry something out.”

  “We’ll see.” Sheridan fell silent and turned to Delenn. Hague could feel something emanating from Sheridan, something that hadn’t been there before, or not in such quantities. Hatred. Directed at Hague himself? He had ordered Corwin not to attempt to rescue Sheridan from Minbar. The Babylon was the last heavy class warship the Resistance Government had to call upon, and it could not be risked on a suicide mission, but still… did Sheridan blame him for giving that order? Did Sheridan hate him for it?

  “What am I looking for?” Lyta asked. She had removed her black gloves and was staring at Delenn, an expression of polite interest on her face. For Lyta Alexander, this was a job just like any other. She felt no hatred, no concern, no pain. Simply… a desire to serve, ingrained in her by Psi Corps while it still existed, before the Minbari had destroyed it as they had destroyed everything else.

  “Anything connected to the Grey Council,” Hague said. “Nothing specific. We just want a place to start. She has a great deal of information we need, and in time, we’ll get it all.” A slight break in Delenn’s icy composure? If so, it was almost unnoticeable. “Begin whenever you are ready.”

  Lyta drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes. Reaching out, she laid one hand on Delenn’s forehead, an action the Minbari did not seem to notice. Her eyes were closed now as well. Lyta’s breathing remained slow and steady.

  “She’s resisting,” Lyta said. “She has a lot of… strength. Minbari often do.”

  “Keep trying,” Hague said softly.

  He could not resist turning his gaze from that still tableau to look at Sheridan. The Starkiller was simply watching, as immobile as marble.

  “I’m getting something,” Lyta whispered. “Nine columns of light.”

  “That’s them,” Sheridan said. “I was held before the Grey Council.”

  “They are arguing. There is… a triangle. She is… thinking about it. She’s resisting. Strongly. I… think… Branmer dead… Entil’zha… the Rangers. She… oh my God. Oh my God! The Enemy! They’re coming! Black and terrible and… touched!” The last word came out like a wail and Lyta’s head snapped back. She snatched her hand from Delenn’s forehead as if burned, and looked at it in horror.

  “What did you find?” Hague asked.

  “I’m not sure. It was too… unclear. There’s some kind of power struggle going on amongst the Grey Council. She represents one faction, and they’re arguing over something called the Rangers. She’s afraid that her opponent will become their leader now.”

  “Who are these Rangers?” Hague asked. “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “Some kind of élite army,” Sheridan replied. “Part warrior, part priest, part secret agent.”

  “Being formed against us?”

  “Possibly,” Sheridan replied. He seemed distracted.

  “Mind telling me why I wasn’t informed about these Rangers?” Sheridan simply looked at him, and Hague turned away. “Anything else, Lyta?”

  “I don’t know. Pieces. I’ll have to think about this, and I will need to rest before I can do it again.”

  “That’s all right. We have time. Mr. Welles, the prisoner is all yours.”

  Lyta rose from her seat and picked up her black gloves. Putting them on slowly, she followed Hague as he left the room. Acting on some impulse, Hague turned again to look at Sheridan. He was still staring at Delenn. And she had turned to look up at him. There was… pleading in her eyes. For a moment, he looked as though he was about to do something, but then he turned and walked away.

  “Now,” Hague heard Welles say. “Tell me about the other members of the Grey Council.”

  There was a man waiting outside the room, a tall man with long hair and a short black beard. “Your guards wouldn’t let me in,” he said in a English accent. “I swore I’d never let you out of my sight, Captain. How can I fulfill that vow if you won’t let me near you?”

  “I’m sorry, Marcus,” Sheridan said. “I just… needed to be alone, that’s all.” Hague looked at the man – Marcus? – and noticed a flinty gaze staring at Sheridan, but something behind the gaze, like a wild animal waiting to be released.

  The four of them walked slowly through the corridors of the Government building to Hague’s personal office. As they entered, Hague looked sharply at Marcus. Hague had never seen the man before and Sheridan was notoriously evasive in his reports, but Sheridan obviously trusted him, and getting rid of him would be difficult. Hague flicked a gaze at Lyta. She could be trusted, and keeping secrets from a telepath was never advisable. It was time to bring up a subject that Hague personally disliked.

  “So, Captain. What do you think about our new allies?”

  “Susan’s alien friends? I don’t know. We need allies though, and these are powerful. Very powerful.”

  “Perhaps. What about Susan herself? Do you trust her?”

  “Trust? Yes, I suppose so. She helped me escape from Minbar, and Commander Corwin knows and trusts her. I thought you knew her?”

  “I did. She was assigned to General Franklin’s personal staff a few years ago. She was a part of the Babylon Two mission – explorations out on the Rim, that sort of thing. She disappeared there. We thought she was dead.”

  “Obviously she isn’t. General, all the details you need should be in my report.”

  “Yes. I read it. It was very… inventive. If you don’t mind me saying, you seem strangely… reticent about this, Captain.”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…” Sheridan paused, and closed his eyes slowly. “It’s just nothing. You know me, General. I’m always paranoid.”

  “Yes, Captain. I know you. So what plans have you got now?”

  “I’d like to take the Babylon to the Narn homeworld. If that meets with the Resistance Government’s approval, of course?”

  Sarcasm. Such a wonderful thing. As if Sheridan would stay here if Hague didn’t give permission. “You know I can’t let you risk your ship to fulfill a personal vendetta against the Narns, Captain.”

  “I wasn’t planning on doing so. The Kha�
��Ri have to be told about the Vega Seven incident by someone who was there. Me… and Marcus. If they believe the colony was attacked by the Minbari, they may come around to giving us some proper help at last.”

  “And if you should happen to find out who gave the orders to have you captured, then that would be a fortunate coincidence? Very well, Captain, I realise there’s little I can do to stop you, but please don’t antagonise the Kha’Ri. We are only here on their sufferance, after all.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good, then when will you depart?”

  “As soon as repairs on the Babylon are complete. A few days, I guess. I’d like to take Miss Ivanova with me.”

  “Really? She’s in meetings with the Resistance Government for the next few days, arranging matters of treaties and agreements between us and her friends.”

  “She asked to come along.”

  “Oh? Well, I’m sure I’ll be able to arrange it, Captain. Good. You might like to check in with Anna while you’re here.” A flash of anguish in Sheridan’s expression and Hague nearly smiled. The Starkiller was not as invulnerable as people might think. Everyone had their Achilles heel. “She’s been asking about you a lot.”

  “I’ll… get around to it. Good day, General.”

  “Captain.”

  As Sheridan and Marcus left his office, Hague saw Lyta come up beside him. She still looked a little haggard, but there was a new curiosity in her step. “General, do you know who that man with Captain Sheridan was?”

  “No more than you. His name’s Marcus and he was a survivor from the Vega Seven massacre. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She smiled, slyly and secretly. “Nothing at all.”

  * * * * * * *

  “Doesn’t want to see me. Doesn’t even want to know I’m here.”

  “He just died. Right from under me.”

  “Doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “The life just went out of him. Just like that.”

  “We were together for years. She gave me a kiss when she came back.”

 

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