“What happened?” she whispered. She could still see the blood on the floor. “What…?”
“He tried to hurt me,” Delenn said softly. “He… Who am I?”
Lyta started. “You are… you are my friend. You are Delenn.”
“Delenn?” She said the name slowly and hesitantly, as if she had never heard it before. “I… don’t…”
Welcome to the world, Satai Delenn. Out of the Darkness and into the Light.
Lyta stumbled again, and nearly fell. Those words… it was as if they had been shouted into her ear. She looked at Delenn, and saw that she was in pain too. She knelt down beside Delenn’s chair and took her hand. She knew that they didn’t have long, but she had to do this.
“I’m going to help,” she whispered.
Lyta didn’t know exactly what she was doing. All she knew was that Kosh was giving her instructions. Unfortunately, Vorlon instructions were not exactly comprehensible. She had never tried this before, but somehow, something had passed between them when she had first scanned Delenn, so why couldn’t something pass the other way?
“I hope this works,” she said to herself. She closed her eyes and reached out into Delenn’s mind. If they were caught doing this… but no, she could probably justify it. They hadn’t done anything irreversible yet.
And then, she was willingly… lost.
I will not allow harm to come to my little ones, not here in my great house.
More valuable to me.
The third principle of sentient life… the ability to sacrifice everything you are and everything you have for another, an ideal, a dream, a loved one…
I must follow the calling of my heart, Delenn. Forgive me.
Isil’zha veni. In Valen’s name.
Thoughts, feelings, memories, voices, names, places, friends, loves lost, loves found, dreams forged, dreams broken, screams, cries, laughter, love, hatred, fear, life, death, destruction, chaos, order, good, evil, shadows… always shadows…
Lyta could not scream. She could barely breathe as she and Delenn became connected on a level that she would never have thought possible. They were privy to each other’s thoughts and feelings, they could put names to people only seen in the other’s memories.
It was the most beautiful experience she had ever had.
She started, and her hand slipped from Delenn’s. She fell backwards and collapsed on the floor, too exhausted even to breathe.
“How?” she asked the voice in her mind. “How did you know this would happen? Why did you do it?”
Connection, it said in reply. Together. Purpose. You will discover. When the time is right.
Lyta slowly scrambled to her feet and, leaning on the table, she looked at Delenn. “Are… you…?”
“I think so,” Delenn whispered. Her eyes were no longer those of a child, but she was… unsettled. Lyta could read it in her. “I feel… strange.”
“I’m not surprised,” Lyta replied. “If what I picked up from that… connection… was any guide, then you’ve just gone through several years of puberty in a few days. I’d feel strange, too. Are you… you?”
“And who am I to make me me? I… have my memories, and my… thoughts are my own, but apart from that… I do not know. This was early. Far too early. I should not even be alive.”
“Yeah well, if word of this gets out none of us will be. You’ll need to get off Proxima, and fast.”
“Captain Sheridan!” Delenn started, as though she had only just remembered. “We must help him… and Commander Corwin. We will need them.”
“Are you crazy? The instant we leave this cell we’re all on borrowed time. Getting you out is going to be hard enough, never mind…”
“Never mind what, exactly?” Lyta spun around, a cold terror gripping her heart. She hoped that she was wrong. She prayed that she was wrong, but she knew she wasn’t.
Standing there in the doorway was Mr. Welles.
“I suppose you can explain why you are here?” he said calmly. “And how you got here?”
Lyta paused as she tried to evaluate an answer. There was something… different about Welles. His icy demeanour was gone, and his stare… he was renowned for having the most focussed, uncomfortable stare that anyone could wish to look at. But it was not focussed on her. He was staring at Delenn. And his gaze was one of fury.
“I’m waiting,” he said slowly.
Lyta could feel his mind now, like soft clay running through her fingers. She could feel him near to breaking point. There was a hot flame burning through all his control, all his precious reserve was close to cracking. Grief and anger and long-restrained hatred were all burning within him.
And with grief and anger and hatred, there was inevitably pain.
She had never been able to master this trick before, but it had worked against Ivanova earlier, and she found herself thinking it would work now. She reached out, feeling the Vorlon guide her, and she touched Welles’ mind.
Pain!
He gave a strangled cry and fell forward, knocking the table aside. His body spasmed on the floor. Lyta slowly helped Delenn to her feet, pulling her away from the convulsing man. Slowly, always looking at Welles, she opened the door.
“I think I remember how to do this,” she muttered.
“Do what?” Delenn asked.
“Change the access code. You need it to get in or out. I am now so dead here, I might as well start digging a grave for myself. The more time we have before they come looking for us, the better.”
“Thank you, Lyta,” Delenn said simply. “You have risked a great deal for me.”
“I think I was risking it as much for myself as well,” Lyta said slowly. “I don’t know why, but… I don’t know why.”
Delenn smiled. “I thank you anyway.”
“Do you still want to find Captain Sheridan?”
“I need to find him.”
“There’s an old saying,” said a familiar voice at the other end of the corridor. “Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it.”
Lyta saw Delenn smile, a warm, happy smile. She certainly did not begrudge her friend happiness but she could not share it, certainly not at the sight of Captain Sheridan, Commander Corwin and Susan Ivanova all together.
* * * * * * *
Londo Mollari was drunk. In fact, he was very drunk. He was also bad-tempered drunk. Normally he tended to become convivial, happy, cheery and very bad at gambling when he’d had too much to drink – which he hadn’t, at least not recently. But this was a special occasion.
After all, it wasn’t every day that you received reports of the death of your best friend.
He’d received the message earlier, and had proceeded to get incredibly drunk. He supposed he should notify G’Kar, or at least whichever of his agents happened to be nearest – Shaal Lennier, he supposed – but he simply didn’t feel like it. What he felt like, at the moment, was breaking a lot of glasses – check, breaking a lot of items of furniture – check, and then breaking several necks – no check.
It was an accident, they’d said. Of course it was. Yes, that was right. Major Centauri warships went around having ’accidents’ all the time. And the fact that First Minister Urza Jaddo happened to be on board when this ’accident’ occurred was also accidental, right?
Londo was alone. Timov had fled, not used to her husband having a worse temper than she did. Daggair was off at one of her interminable parties, spending more of his money than he could afford. And Mariel, she was… anywhere, but not here. He didn’t care.
He raised a glass of brivare. “Here’s to you, Scatura,” he said. “Here’s to you, Urza.”
* * * * * * *
Lyta had seen a number of strange and unpleasant sights in her lifetime. The last year had seen a drastic increase in their number and frequency. But she doubted she would ever forget the sight of Susan Ivanova removing her head to reveal Vir Cotto with a Changeling Net.
Refraining from asking the obvious questions – like where
he got it, and how he got it smuggled into Proxima – she concentrated instead on Captain Sheridan. He was holding Delenn tenderly. He was not smiling, but the frequent expression of anger on his face was gone. He looked strangely… peaceful. She contemplated a quick scan, but decided against it. Sheridan had always been hard to read, and she did not want to make her actions obvious.
Delenn was smiling. She looked happier than Lyta had ever seen her. It was surprising how much her new human-like features improved when she smiled.
“I’ve, ah, arranged a shuttle to take you up to your spaceship,” Vir was explaining. “This… little device was very handy, and there are a few… friends of friends here, if you know what I mean. You should get there uninterrupted, but you had best leave as soon as possible.”
“And I suppose your… friend… with the Machine has some ideas about what we should do after that?” Sheridan said. “We’ll have effectively exiled ourselves, and taken away Proxima’s only heavy class ship.”
“Hopefully our… friend with the Machine… will offer sanctuary. If you’re ready to take it, Captain. And we both know that there are more powerful defenders here than the Babylon.”
“I won’t be going with you,” Lyta said.
Delenn looked up. “Why not?” she asked.
Because I don’t like Captain Sheridan. Because I think all this is crazy. Because I wish I couldn’t believe any of this. Because I’m afraid of what the voice in my head in telling me.
“Because I have to find Marcus,” she said.
“He’s likely dead by now,” Sheridan replied. “I asked him to watch over Susan for us.”
“I have to find him,” Lyta said firmly. “Goodbye, Delenn.”
Delenn smiled. “Goodbye, Lyta.”
Lyta noticed Sheridan’s embrace tighten softly at Delenn’s smile. She noticed a great many things about Captain Sheridan, things she wished she hadn’t.
“If you need help finding Marcus, track down Zack Allan,” Commander Corwin said. “I think he’s still on the surface here, and he’ll be able to help you.”
“I will,” she said slowly. And she meant it too.
“Walk with Valen,” she whispered, and then paused, surprised. She hardly knew who Valen was.
“And you, my friend,” Delenn said. “And you.”
* * * * * * *
The Babylon felt very… empty. With most of its crew recalled to Proxima for questioning, and with all Mr. Welles’ security patrols also recalled, there was only a skeleton crew running the ship. That suited Sheridan well enough. It made it easier for him to regain control. As he sat in his chair on the bridge and began taking the ship away from Proxima, he turned to Corwin.
“What are we doing here, David? We’re abandoning our people. We’re betraying them all.”
“It’s Vice President Clark and the others who have done that, sir,” Corwin said slowly, after a moment’s thought. “They betrayed humanity. I think we’re the only ones who haven’t.”
Sheridan thought about this for a moment, and then nodded. “Take us away.”
Lieutenant Franklin was one of the few members of the bridge crew who was still aboard. He looked a little bewildered by the whole affair, but, like Commander Corwin, he trusted his captain.
“We’re leaving Proxima now, sir,” he said. “Jump point formed. We’re in hyperspace.”
“Do you think they’ll send anything out after us?” Corwin asked.
“What have they got to send? They won’t risk a light cruiser or a medium sized warship against the Babylon.”
“And what about one of these Shadow ships? The things that cut through two Minbari cruisers in a matter of seconds?”
“Then… we will deal with that as it happens, David.”
“You cannot,” said a voice. It was Delenn. “None of us can stand up to the Shadows, not yet. But by working together, perhaps we can. I do not know what this… G’Kar has done in preparation for the Shadows, but I do know that by working together, we have a far better chance than we do alone.”
“I only hope you’re right…” Sheridan blinked suddenly and looked around. Something about this felt… familiar. He turned and saw the door to the bridge opening. He started and rose from his chair. No! This was impossible. Anna was on Proxima 3. She had to be.
But she was here. “John!” she said. “What’s been happening?”
Sheridan drew his PPG and pointed it, across the length of the bridge, at her.
“John? What…?” Then she saw Delenn. “I see. What they were saying was true, then. I didn’t want to believe them, but… they were right. You did betray us all, John.”
“You betrayed me, Anna. Why? I wondered why at the time. It was Susan, wasn’t it? I should have realised. What did she tell you? What did she offer you?”
“John, you aren’t making any sense. But… I suppose that’s not surprising. I never thought. I just… never thought.”
John glanced at Delenn, glanced away just long enough for Anna to draw her own PPG. He pointed his weapon back at her, silently cursing himself. He was the one who’d insisted she carry a weapon, never imagining she’d point it at him.
“This is a mistake,” Delenn whispered. “This is a misunderstanding. John, please, listen!”
But he wasn’t listening. Anna was. “Why are you doing this?” she pleaded. “Why? Doesn’t… doesn’t Elizabeth’s death mean anything to you? That… that freak killed her. She killed Elizabeth, and your parents, and mine. She took everything from both of us. And now she’s taken you as well. John, please!”
“What did Susan tell you? What did she…? Anna, no!”
Anna turned to point her PPG at Delenn. John’s arm jerked upwards…
Corwin would never forget the expression on his Captain’s face as he fired. Despair. The ultimate, most tragic, most heart-wrenching despair he could ever imagine. But it did no good. Once the weapon was fired, it could never be taken back.
Anna slumped and fell, her own weapon falling from her lifeless fingers. Sheridan just stood there, staring for a moment, then he dropped his own weapon.
“Anna,” he whispered. Slowly, he walked across the bridge to her side and knelt down beside her. Corwin knew that she was dead. It was inconceivable that she could be otherwise, but still… he could hope that she was alive. Not for her sake, but for her husband’s.
Sheridan, on the other hand, seemed to know. As if he had been expecting this all along, but had never adjusted himself to its inevitability. He simply knelt beside her, touching her hair, whispering her name, over and over again.
Corwin’s attention was so taken up by Sheridan that he didn’t notice Delenn move. If he had, he might have stopped her, but he did not, and the first Sheridan knew of it was when she gently touched his shoulder, standing by his side.
He spun around, lashing out. He pulled his punch at the last minute, but it was still enough to floor her. She fell sprawling, and Corwin caught the look in her eyes as she fell.
Terror and tragedy.
“Get her out of here!” Sheridan snapped to anyone who was listening. “Throw her in the brig! Throw her out of an airlock! Just get her out of my sight!”
Delenn tried to rise, but he moved forward, fire and death blazing in his expression. Corwin ran forward, again for his sake, not for hers, and helped Delenn to her feet. She was leaning on him heavily, although probably more from shock than from pain. Corwin shared a long, sympathetic, empathetic look with his captain and led Delenn from the bridge, and down to the brig.
As a result, he missed what happened next.
“Captain,” breathed Lieutenant Franklin. “This… this is…”
“What?” Sheridan asked dully.
“Come and see.”
Sheridan made his way down to Franklin’s console, moving slowly, not caring, not thinking. He looked at the readouts.
His eyes widened. He had never seen a Shadow ship before, but he knew that that was what he was looking at.
&n
bsp; Ivanova had sent the Shadows after them, after all.
* * * * * * *
It had taken Lyta several minutes to regain her breath after leaving Sheridan, Corwin, Vir and Delenn outside the Detention Centre. Vir had put his Changeling Net back on again, and was planning on guiding the others to the shuttle he had arranged. She was still a trifle unclear about his motives, but her thoughts were far too enmired to worry about them for the moment.
The first thing she did was return to her room and collapse on the bed, drawing in great, gasping breaths. She knew that she had to find Marcus. That was her main concern here. For the first time since leaving the cell, the thought of what she had done to Mr. Welles nagged at her. What if she had killed him? What would he do when he got out?
None of that mattered. She had to find Marcus, and Corwin had told her how to do it.
Once she had recovered her breath, she left her room and headed in search of this Zack Allan. Tracking him down was not difficult – a whole ship-full of Security personnel tended to make an impact, and all it took was a few questions. She did not even have to use her powers to gain the information she needed, although she was nervous the whole time, wondering if each person she talked to knew about what she had done.
Was this how normals felt in the presence of telepaths? This whole, enveloping terror, always afraid of what they had done that they might be called to account for?
When she found Zack, she mentioned Sheridan’s name, and he became attentive. He listened to what she had to say – which took a while, as her breathing was still laboured, and she was still afraid. Kosh’s voice was trying to tell her something, but she hardly heard it.
And after she had finished, Zack had left to do a bit of checking. A few minutes later, he returned.
“Found him,” he said. “He was slightly injured in a brief scuffle last night. Medlab are looking after him.”
Lyta started, knowing that for a lie. She could feel Marcus when he was in pain. Zack was lying. She rose to her feet, but then the door to his room opened again.
The Other Half of my Soul addm-1 Page 31