Out Of The Darkness

by Peter David

  suddenly he was seized with a racking cough. Vir, for his part, didn't even seem to notice. Instead, he looked up at G'Kar and nodded slightly in greeting. G' Kar hadn't quite recognized Vir at first. He looked so much older and so careworn. G'Kar made the traditional Narn gesture of greeting. "That," Lon do said, coughing, "is what we need." Vir looked at him in confusion. "What is, Londo?" "A way of saying hello. The Narn, they have that business with fist and chest... the Minbari, with their fingers as triangles ... what do we do?" He waggled his fingers. Then he shook his head. "Pathetic. Truly. Perhaps we deserved our fate on that basis alone. Sit, G'Kar. Sit. Vir ... I need you to do two final things for me." "Whatever you need, Londo." G'Kar saw such sadness in Vir, he could barely conceive what it must have been like for him. "I want you to go to my private chambers. There is a hidden place, behind my writing desk. In the wall. Volumes are stored there. Chronicles of my life as emperor. I think you will find them .. . illuminating. Combine them with what I have told you and..." He stopped and coughed for a full thirty seconds before he managed to pull himself together. His voice was hoarse and scratchy; he sounded as if he had been speaking for hours. Every word sounded as if it was taking effort. "... combine them ... and tell others of me. Because otherwise I will be forgotten ... and I do not think that I would like that." "Because your heroic efforts deserve to be immortalized?" G'Kar could not resist asking. But Londo looked up at him with a baleful stare that carried with it not a hint of irony. "No. Because stupidity as monu­mental as mine should be enshrined so that others may learn. Vir... the second thing..." "Yes?" "Once you have them... leave. Leave and do not look back. Do not return until it is safe ... if ever. And watch the shadows . .. sometimes, when you're not watching... they move. I have struck a bargain of sorts to preserve your life. If I had not, you would have been dead moments after you set foot in my presence. But I do not expect that it will be honored beyond my death. .. which, I suspect, will come soon."

  Vir nodded, and G'Kar wondered if he understood what Londo was talking about. Vir started to head out, and G'Kar wanted to say something, because he had the oddest feeling that he was never going to see Vir again. "Cotto," he called out. Vir Cotto turned and waited politely for G'Kar to speak. G'Kar gave it a moment's thought, and then said, "Never mind. It will come to me later." Vir laughed softly at that. And then he was gone. It was just the two of them. As Vir made his way hurriedly down the corridor toward Londo's private chambers, he ran into Senna coming in the op­posite direction. They stopped, facing each other. For a moment, there seemed a gap between them that no amount of effort or emotion could possibly bridge. And then, before either of them even realized it, they were in each other's arms, and he kissed her hungrily. He held her tightly, as if she were a lifeline. "Come with me," he whispered. "At least for a little while. Until we know it's safe." "I will..." "The children ... do you need to bring-" Senna shook her head. "Luc and Lyssa's parents picked them up a few minutes ago. They have a bunker they built some time ago that they're taking the children to. They'll be perfectly safe." "I have to make a quick stop at the emperor's private study..." Her face was a question mark. "Why?" "I have to get his legacy," he told her grimly. Londo slowly leaned forward and clearly tried to focus on G'Kar. It seemed to the Narn that Londo was seeing less with two eyes than he, G'Kar, was seeing with one. "Can you see it?" he whispered. G'Kar made no effort to hide his confusion. "See what?" "Ah. You have answered my question, thank you." "Have I?" "Oh yesss," Londo told him, slurring the words. "Because if you could see it, you would not have to ask what it is you are sup­posed to be seeing." "I see." "Sit, sit. You have become my regular dining companion, you know. I would not want to cheat you of a final meal." "A final meal?" G'Kar sat opposite him and picked up a piece of fruit. He took a bite of it, wondering if it was going to be poi­soned. If it was, it certainly tasted sweet. The juice ran down his face, and he made a token effort to clean it off with his sleeve. "Are you planning to kill me, then?" "I? I make no plans. They require too much... planning." He took a deep swig of the contents of the bottle and, for some reason, glanced at his shoulder. "I have been giving matters . .. much thought. And I have decided . .. that all of this .. . was about me." "All of what?" G'Kar was genuinely curious. "Everything. Babylon 5 ... the Shadow War ... the fate of Centauri Prime... all about me." "Very egocentric," G'Kar observed. "That does not make it wrong," Londo pointed out. He seemed to be enjoying the effect that the alcohol was having on him. All his words were slurring, one into another, and it was with difficulty that G'Kar was able to understand what he was saying. "It was in her predictions, you know. The one about the man already dead .. . that was easy. That was Sheridan. She also told me that I had to save the eye that does not see. Until an hour ago, I thought that referred to you." G'Kar was completely lost, but he was not about to admit it. "But now you no longer think that." "No. I think I misheard her. I think she referred, not to the 'eye' as in orb, but rather T as in 'I, myself Because I had all the hints, all the warnings that I needed. It was all there, right in front of me. Morella tried to warn me ... and the techno-rnage ... and Vir, Great Maker knows, over and over again... they all tried to make me see. But I did not. I did not see where my path was taking me. In order to avoid the fire that awaits me at the end of my journey, I must first save... myself." "It sounds like a bit of a tautology," G'Kar pointed out. "To save yourself, you must save yourself? Not very useful advice." "It is useful if I put it to use .. . which is likely also a tau­tology, yes? But I am emperor, and so have that prerogative." He

  drank deeply again. Then he leaned forward, and said conspira-torially, "So ... do you see it yet?" "I suppose I do not," G'Kar admitted. "Soon enough. Where was I?" "Saving yourself." "Ah, yes! Thank you, my good friend, G'Kar." He seemed to find that phrase rather amusing. "My good friend, G'Kar. Who would have thought such unlikely words would be paired, eh? Almost as unlikely as Emperor Mollari. No . .. not my good friend. My ... greatest friend," and he clapped G'Kar on the shoulder. "And my greatest fear." "I am flattered on both counts," G'Kar said, "that you-" "You should be able to see it now," Londo suddenly said, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I don't understand why ... oh. Oh, of course. I am still wearing my mantle. Naturally . .. natu­rally, you do not see it, because I am covering it. Here ... hold on." He shrugged off his ceremonial cape. G'Kar leaned for­ward, confused. There seemed to be some kind of lump visible now, a tumor of some sort... Then he gasped and tried to stand up so quickly that the chair he was sitting on tumbled back with a clatter. He almost stumbled, but righted himself at the last moment. The creature situated on Londo's shoulder literally reeked of evil and foulness. It apparently had an eye of some sort, but the eye was just in the process of closing. G'Kar could barely make out tendrils that were extended down into the emperor's pure white clothes. Londo was utterly unperturbed. "You see it, yes?" G'Kar managed to nod, but just barely. "Very stylish, eh? Soon everyone will be wanting one, I think." "What... is it?" "My conscience," Londo told him. His thick eyebrows knitted as he tried to pick up the thread of the conversation. "Ohhh ... yes. Yes, I remember. All about me. That is what this has all been." "Londo ..." A stunned G'Kar was pointing at the creature on Londo's shoulder. But Londo was paying it no mind at all. In his own mind, the conversation had moved on. "All of this . . . has been one great epic about the loss of a man's soul... and its eventual recovery and redemption, but only at a terrible price. As an epic story, it has potential... do you think?" G'Kar managed a nod. "The thing is, G'Kar... that at this point, the Drakh-believe it or not-need me. Even as some of their number depart this world, others desire to stay. They still see me as their instrument of revenge . .. their puppet, to be danced with for some time to come. Without me ... they have nothing. And without Sheridan and Delenn .. . they do not even have revenge. They hate Sheridan and Delenn, you know. Because they told the Shadows to leave ... and the Shadows did. In some ways, the Drakh are like ..." He fished for a comparison and then smiled. "... they are like childre
n. Children abandoned by their parents and taking out their anger on the world. I can almost find it within me not to hate them. Almost. But not quite." "You said ... 'without Sheridan and Delenn.' Are you saying that you intend to let them go?" Slowly Londo managed to nod, though not without effort. "That is my intent. It will be ... somewhat involved. The Drakh do not want them to leave. The Drakh want them dead. And in re­cent days, it has become rather important for me to do things .. . other than the way the Drakh desire." Suddenly so much of everything that had happened became clear. How long had Londo not been responsible for his actions? How long had one of those creatures sat on his shoulder, watch­ing him, manipulating his moves? All the way back to the begin­ning of the War? Had the creatures told him to bomb the Narn Homeworld? Betray G'Kar? Was Londo, after all this time, genuinely an innocent man? "If Sheridan and Delenn can leave ... so can you, Londo," G'Kar said with sudden urgency. "We all can. We can escape..." But Londo shook his head. "No ... no. Sooner or later, my small ... associate . .. would awaken. The instant that hap­pened, the Drakh vessels would come after us and blow us to hell." "Then let me kill that thing..." "If it dies, I die. Besid es, G'Kar, some things are preordained. Trust me on that. This is the only way." "But if that... thing . . . controlled your actions..." "Ahhh ... I see what you think. No, G'Kar, no. In the grand

  scheme of things, this," and he indicated the creature, "is only a recent acquisition." He leaned forward, coughed several times, and then said raggedly, "Would you like to know... what sort of person I was? After I arranged for the bombing of the Narn colony in Quadrant 14... the emperor, Emperor Turhan, with his last breath, told me that my associates and I were damned. And I announced that instead he had condoned and applauded our ac­tions. And do you know what else, G'Kar, old friend?" And he half smiled. "Given the exact same opportunity ... I would do it again. I would figure out some way to spare my people this ... this debacle," and he gestured to the smoking ruins of Centauri Prime. "But what I did to your people ..." And he snapped his fingers. "Like that, once more, given the opportunity." G'Kar bristled, his blood thudding in his temple, and it was all he could do not to leap for the smirking face right then. .. And then he figured it out. He realized that Londo was just trying to get to him ... to enrage him ... to get him to ... Attack him? Kill him? Of course. Kill him. That had to be it. And then, before G'Kar could say or do anything further, there was the sound of voices approaching. Stern guards were saying, "Keep moving!" Londo stood on uneven legs and, with more willpower than actual strength, thrust himself toward his throne. He caught him­self on it and swung himself to a seated position, allowing the shadows to cloak him. "Hide," he told G'Kar. "Now. Hurry. There is a small dressing chamber over there," and he pointed. Even that movement clearly pained him. "Go there." "Why?" "Because time is running short, and the minutes it would take me to explain to Sheridan and Delenn why things must be done, these lost minutes might well prevent our being able to do them. Do as I say." "As you command," G'Kar said with a deep sense of mockery. He stepped into the room Londo had indicated and softly shut the door behind himself. And then he waited... for his final instructions. chapter 25 Londo did not sit forward on his throne, because the pain was too great. His conversation with G'Kar had taken the last of his strength from him. He did not think he had any reserves left. One of the guards came in first and walked toward the throne. He did so hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure if Londo was even there. That was how well hidden in the shadows Londo was. "Highness?" "Yes." Having affirmed for himself that Londo was there, the guard said, "Sheridan had passed out for a short time, but he seems to have recovered." "Oh, good," Londo said dryly. "We wouldn't want him to be anything but awake for his final moments. Bring them in." Sheridan and Delenn were ushered before his presence. They squinted in the dimness of the room; Londo preferred it dark these days. It was as if he had surrendered totally to it. The guards stepped out, leaving them alone. Sheridan and Delenn seemed puzzled, as if wondering whether they were alone. Suddenly Londo's hand went numb. Even he had lost track of how much he had had to drink. The glass, which he had totally forgotten he was holding, slipped out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. Delenn jumped slightly. Sheridan did not. For some reason, Londo found that interesting. Delenn and Sheridan slowly began to walk toward him, squinting. "Close enough," Londo said softly. He spoke hardly above a whisper, and the words were slurred. He barely recognized his voice. He felt as if he were viewing the world through a haze. He tried to stand and discovered that his legs and brain were

  no longer on speaking terms. If he did manage to get to his feet, he would most likely topple over, and how dignified would that be? It wasn't fit that he spend his last moments-and they were his last, he was quite convinced of that-flat on his face. "You will excuse me if I do not stand," he managed to say. "You see, I have had considerable to drink... it is the only way we can be alone. We do not wish to wake it." Sheridan looked at him in confusion. Technically, he looked twice as confused as he should be, because Londo was seeing two of him. "Wake what?" Londo cocked an eyebrow, which was the only part of him ca­pable of movement. "Ah, then you do not know. We all have our keepers, you see ..." He chuckled softly. "Oh, they make us think we have free will, but it's a lie. I gave a very good perfor­mance, yes?" He saw understanding beginning to dawn on Delenn's face. Sheridan still looked befuddled. That made sense to Londo. He had long suspected that Delenn was the true brains in the family. "It was satisfied," he continued. "It doesn't care why I do what I do as long as I do it... as long as you are dead." He managed to find enough strength to lean forward. Delenn's face remained impassive. It was as if she was expecting to see the creature there. But Sheridan looked totally stunned, and that confused Londo even further. Londo knew that he had spotted the keeper on his son's shoulder, when he had endeavored to stop the boy from leaving Minbar. Now, though, Sheridan acted as if he'd never encountered one of them before. "It cannot hold its liquor, you see," Londo explained. "I learned that if I drink just enough, I can put it to sleep for a few minutes ... a few minutes where I am in charge of myself again ..." He took a deep breath. Putting together understandable words, coherent sentences, was a tremendous effort for him. "But the minutes have been growing shorter and shorter... so we do not have much time." He leaned back, once again at home in the shadows. And why not? He had been living within them for so long, he no longer had anything to fear. "My life is almost over. My world, all I hoped for ... gone. You two are my last chance ... for this place, for my world ... for my own redemption." He steadied his voice, glad that the alcohol had so numbed him that he was no longer capable of feeling any emotion; merely observing it from a distance, as if in a dream. "You will find a ship hidden behind the palace. My personal guard will take you. In exchange for your lives, I ask that you and your allies help free my world. I can do nothing more for them." Sheridan seemed touched, and still a bit bewildered. "Londo... if there's anything-" Londo shook his head. "No. There is nothing. Now go, quickly. You don't have much time. I can .. . feel it starting to wake up. Hurry. Go," his voice got louder with the last words. Sheridan and Delenn looked at one another, and then turned and left. He knew that Dunseny and Caso would be right outside, as they had been instructed. That they would carry out his final orders. Alone, again, as always, Londo waited for the creaking of a door that he knew would come. "You are there, my old friend?" G'Kar entered the room, watching him, looking at the keeper balefully. "Yes," he said. "They will never make it out alive, unless . .." He took an­other breath. "You see, my keeper will awaken any second. It will alert the others ... and my only hope will die. And I will die soon after. They do not take betrayal lightly." And at the last... The words of Lady Morella floated to him across the years. .. .you must surrender yourselfto your greatestfear... He wondered if that was strictly true anymore. Because in a way, his greatest fear was that he might continue to live. ... knowing that it will kill you. He paused, an infinity of time passing in a second, and said the words that he had
known, for as long as he could recall, that he was destined to say. "We have unfinished business between us, G'Kar. Let us have an end to it, quickly, before it stops me. I am as tired of my life as you are." G'Kar came at him. His hands clamped around Londo's throat, and it did not seem right somehow, because in the vision he had always been fighting back. But he had no desire to do so. He just wanted it over, done, finished. He marveled at the Narn's strength, wondered what it would have been like to battle G'Kar hand to

  hand, man to man, back in his prime, back at a time when any­ thing seemed possible. And then the keeper awoke. G'Kar could not count the number of times that he had thought of this moment. There were times when he had, for his amusement, speculated what it would be like to sink his fingers into Londo's fleshy throat, feel the pulse beneath his fingers, feel it slowing, feel it stopping. He had wondered how long he would actually stand there, once there was no life, and still keep squeez­ing, just enjoying the lifelessness. And that day-that terrible day, when he had learned of Londo's duplicity, drinking with him in friendship while Londo sent ships to kill thousands, millions of innocent Narns-he had gone berserk that day. When he stormed down the corridors of Babylon 5, howling for Londo Mollari's blood, he would have done more than strangle him. He would have ripped his living hearts from his body, held up one, and consumed the other while the life flickered from Londo's eyes. Now... Now he had him. Londo wasn't putting up a fight. He was... he was sacrificing himself. Surrendering to G'Kar, telling him to get it over with, so Delenn and Sheridan could escape. Sheridan. "The king." And he was the hand of the king, and those hands were wrapped with murderous intent around the throat of a true king, an emperor. The Narn named G'Kar who had imagined this moment, the Narn named G'Kar who would have reveled in it, had died years ago, replaced by a philosopher who was revered throughout the Narn Homework! as G'Kar the wise, G'Kar the thoughtful, G'Kar the scholarly. His writings were endlessly studied, examined for the slightest nuance. Students who sat at his feet repeated his teachings, statues had been built to him, songs sung, stories written. They worshipped him as a man of peace even more than they had revered him as a man of war. Some called his writings the most important since those of G'Quan himself-a claim he had always considered to be a tad overblown, but there it was, and he wasn't going to deny it. G'Kar the wise had forgiven Londo his trespasses. Had come to appreciate him, not for the man he was, but for the man he could have been ... and might yet be. The hand of the king was going to have the blood of the em­peror on it, and G'Kar's will faltered. He saw Londo surren­dering to what he recognized as his fate, and something in G'Kar recoiled at the very notion. There had to be some other way. Sheridan and Delenn had to escape, yes. But there had to be a way for Londo to escape as well, something that would not cost him his life. It couldn't simply end like this, with cold-blooded murder... even if it was at the request of the victim. He was not an executioner. He was G'Kar, son of G'Qarn, scribe, sage, both teacher and student of the universe, and he could not, would not, do this thing. And in deciding this, he began to ease up, ever so slightly, on Londo's throat. And then the keeper awoke . .. We are threatened! We are being assaulted! It is trying to kill us! The keeper howled in anguish and fear. It saw its host was in danger, saw its own life threatened, because they were bonded, one to the other. A keeper could disengage, but it was a lengthy process, one that took time ... time the keeper did not have. It did, however, have defensive capabilities. In the early years of their relationship, the keeper had simply been an observer. But as time had passed, the keeper had insinuated itself so thoroughly into Londo's nervous system that, in times of stress, it could take over the body entirely for short periods. Stop them, Londo! We love you! We care for you! We will never leave you! The creature had never been so terrified, not since its spawn­ing. When Shiv'kala had removed it from its nourishment pouch, it had feared the Centauri. Feared it so much that it had trembled in Shiv'kala's keeping. But the Drakh had assured it that all would be well, and it had been. And now it wasn't. Protect us, Londo! Protect us! Save us! Love us! And Londo's arms flew up, not of their own accord, but at the keeper's command. They grabbed on to G'Kar's throat, clamping in with ferocity. chapter 26 "I am Dunseny, and this is Caso," Dunseny said by way of hurried introduction as they proceeded down the corridor. "I tell you that so that, if this does not go well and we die, you will know whose name to curse with your final breath." "Very considerate," Delenn said. She cast a worried glance at Sheridan, who was suddenly starting to look a little uncertain on his feet. Dunseny hurried on ahead, Caso behind him, leading the way for Sheridan and Delenn. His hand hovered near his weapon, just in case some sort of resistance might be met. Suddenly Sheridan's legs began to buckle once again. He leaned against the wall, supporting himself. Delenn took his arm, her face a mask of worry. "What is it?" Sheridan tried to fight off whatever had a hold of him, but was unable to. "I'm ... being pulled back again. Go on, hurry, don't wait for me." "No. I won't leave you," she said firmly, shaking her head. He tried to take a few more steps, got halfway down another corridor, and then the pain overwhelmed him. "It's no good... I can feel time pulling at me . . ." She held him tightly. "Then take these words back with you to the past: Treasure the moments you have. Savor them for as long as you can, for they will never come again." She knew that was all she should say. That she could take no chance of disrupting the past. Who knew what she might change? If she said the wrong thing, David might never exist, or the Shadows might triumph, or... or anything. There was simply no way of knowing, and every instinct, every fragment of common sense she possessed, warned her to keep her mouth shut. .. And then she heard her own voice blurt out, "John . . . listen to