"No," Vir said, stunning the others into silence. "You didn't see what I saw. You didn't see the look in his eyes, the desperation. He wants this stopped as much as we do. He knows that this insane plan of Durla's, this scheming by the Drakh, is only going to end in tragedy for all. We have to strike openly, publicly, and with finality. We have to turn over the rock that the Drakh are hiding under. It's the only way!" "Londo might have been setting us up . .." Renegar ventured. "If he's a tool of the Drakh, as you say.. ." "Then why play games, huh? If he suspects that I'm involved with the underground, why not just tell the Drakh? Watch me disappear," and he snapped his fingers, "like that. You think the Drakh care whether I actually am a rebel or not? If Londo voices his suspicion to them, they'd obliterate me without giving it a second thought, just to play it safe. The fact that he hasn't... the fact that I'm still here, and not off in a dungeon being tortured or just being executed as a warning to others . . . that means something, I'm telling you! And the coded message he was sending me meant something, too! We have to stop them!" "How?" That was, of course, the big question. It was Gwynn who had posed it. Surprisingly, Vir had an answer. "Now is the time," he said slowly, "to let everyone and everything know about the Drakh infestation on this world. Which means we reveal their headquarters. Londo has figured out where it is. I should have, too, to be honest. He kept talking about a tall structure that wasn't what it seemed..." "The Tower of Power," Renegar said suddenly. "Of course," Finian said, looking at Gwynn. "The structure with no windows. It makes sense." "We've scanned it before, though, for signs of Shadow tech," Gwynn reminded him. "We came up with nothing." "Probably because there was none when you first scanned it," Vir suggested. "Or so little that it was undetectable. No one could get inside, for a close scan, because the place is so closely guarded by the Prime Candidates." "And it remains heavily guarded," Renegar pointed out. "If there are Drakh there ... and we are going to expose them ... how do you suggest we do it?" "Simple," Vir said, with a surprisingly malicious smile. "We tilt." chapter 19 In his cell deep beneath the palace, his body aching with a world of pain, G'Kar heard something faintly that sounded a great deal like cheering. As near as he could tell, it was some type of a massive rally. He had heard sounds like that before, and assumed it to be some sort of religious meeting. They liked their religious meetings, the Centauri did. It was a way to bolster the spirit of a people whose main occupation seemed to be endeavoring to dash the spirits of others. Still, every so often, whenever he heard such things, he wondered whether he was eventually going to be made the subject of one. He could see himself being pulled out on a cart or some-such, to their great temple, bound from head to toe, being pelted by overripe fruit along the way. Once at the temple he would doubtless be subjected to assorted torture devices, hoping to wring a scream from him, as Cartagia had, before he died a hideous death. Curiously, he was certain at this point that he wouldn't mind such a fate. At least he would know where he stood. As it was now, the daily beatings and torments were wearing quite thin on him. The novelty was wearing off on his captors, as well; despite everything they had done, they had not been able to elicit the slightest sound out of him. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. There was one thing he was at least grateful for: that John Sheridan had not done some damned fool thing, like sending someone to Centauri Prime in a vain effort to rescue him. Or even showing up himself. He knew Sheridan all too well, knew it was the kind of stunt he was likely to pull. But apparently he had not done so. He'd probably had the impulse, but cooler heads had prevailed. Thank G'Quan for that. The knowledge that
Sheridan and Delenn were nowhere near this insanity brought him some measure of comfort. In their cell beneath the palace, Sheridan and Delenn heard something faintly that sounded a great deal like cheering. "Sounds like they're having a party up there," Sheridan commented. They were the first words he had spoken in some time. "Do you think it involves us?" Delenn asked. She noticed some sort of vermin crawling around in the corner of the cell, and did her best to ignore it. Sheridan noticed where she was looking. Without a thought, he walked over and stepped on it. "You mean do I think he's going to trot us out, his prize prisoners, and lord it over us? Is that what I think?" "Yes." "Yeah, I think that's what he's going to do." Sheridan looked haggard, as did Delenn, and for good reason. Their captors had not been especially kind to them, depriving them of food and water, endeavoring to extract information about the Alliance's armed might. Neither of them had said anything to that point, and they had no intention of doing so. Yet Delenn couldn't help but be apprehensive. The Centauri efforts at extracting information from them had, thus far, been fairly mild. She was sure they could do a lot worse, and she had said as much to Sheridan. "My guess," he had replied, "is that their more 'efficient' methods wouldn't leave us in especially good shape. Perhaps not even very recognizable as ourselves. And they may want the option of maintaining at least a semblance of... I don't know ... mercy. Having a mindless shell of President Sheridan speaking out on their behalf isn't going to convince many people." It seemed to make sense to her, but nevertheless she couldn't help but feel that something worse was going to be forthcoming. And when they heard the crowd noises outside, she began to wonder whether or not this might be it. She said something softly, and Sheridan looked at her. "What? What did you say?" "Nothing." "Delenn." He sighed. "People don't mutter things under their breath because they don't want to be heard. They do it because they do want to be heard." "You should not have come here," she said finally. "What?" "When that monster . .. Lione ... contacted us, told us that they had David . . . that we were to come here at once, directly, informing no one, or else they would kill him ... I should have come on my own." "Don't be ridiculous," he said. But she wouldn't be dismissed. "It is not ridiculous," she informed him. "I should have come here as an effort to try to convince them of the insanity of their actions. Try to reason with them. But you should have remained behind." "Send my wife to do something that I'm afraid to do?" He shook his head fiercely. "Sorry, Delenn. Call me old-fashioned, but it just doesn't work that way." "Why?" she demanded, her ire rising. "Because you're a man? A Human male? How typical! You have to throw yourself into the heart of danger when every reasonable assessment of the situation says that you should stay behind. John, it was foolishness! You're the president of the Alliance, and you delivered yourself to our enemies! The Alliance needs you!" "You're the one who should have stayed, Delenn! You could do the Alliance far more good than I could. I tried to talk you into staying behind-" "I'm David's mother, in Valen's name!" "Hah!" he said triumphantly. "Now who's being typically Human! And you don't even have as good an excuse as I do! We both know that, if it's the Alliance you're so concerned about, you were the logical one to stay behind." "How can you say that?" "Because you'd be around longer! I've only got a few more years left!" And there it was. Delenn suddenly felt the coldness in the cell more than she had before. She looked down and away from him, because she knew it to be true. He had acknowledged the terrible truth that had preyed upon her, and somehow made it all the worse. "I'm sorry, Delenn," he said softly.
And she turned and thumped him on the chest. It didn't hurt, but it startled him. The fury exploded from her. "You're sorry? You 're sorry I Don't you understand anything, John? I know I should have remained behind! That I should have let you do this on your own! But I couldn't refuse to come and risk condemning our son to death, because he's the part of you that will live on! And I couldn't be se parated from you because, with the dwindling years we have left to us, every day-every second-becomes infinitely precious. Whether we live or die, all that mattered to me was that we did it together! How utterly, utterly stupid and shortsighted was that?" He took her in his arms. "Completely," he said. "Can't you see how much I hate you for it?" He tilted her chin back with one finger and kissed her upturned lips. She returned the kiss as if it were going to be their last. And then there was a rattling at the door. Several guards presented themselves and walked directly to
ward Sheridan. "No!" Delenn cried out. They grabbed Sheridan by either arm, forestalling any chance he might have at trying to pull away. She cried out his name, and he called back, "No, Delenn! Don't show them any weakness!" before he was hauled out of the room. The door remained open. For a moment, Delenn thought that somehow they had actually overlooked the fact that she was still in there. Or perhaps they were so confident that it never occurred to them that she might make a break for it. But as quickly as those hopes went through her mind, they were dashed when she heard footsteps approaching the door. And then she took a step back, startled, when a figure in gleaming white appeared. He looked almost heaven-sent in that aspect. "Hello, Delenn," he said. He turned to the guards at the door and indicated that the door should be shut behind them. "Highness, are you sure?" one of the guards asked. "No. But one of the perks of being a highness is that people must obey your orders, even when there's no certainty in your mind at all. Doit." The door closed, and he turned to Delenn. "I felt you would be able to talk more freely if we were alone. Now then," he said. "Let us chat." G'Kar heard a noise at his door and stood. He was certain that this was going to be it. And he steeled himself for the escape attempt he knew he would have to make, no matter how hopeless it was. Whenever they entered his cell, they always did so with enough restraints, shock prods, and such to control a dozen Narn. But today he would have to display strength on a par with more than that, for he knew in his heart that he would not have another opportunity. But then the door opened only slightly, and instead of someone coming in to pull him out, a body was shoved in. It stumbled and fell, and the door slammed shut. G'Kar squinted with his one eye. Only a small bit of light filtered through the tiny window in the door. The sounds of the crowd were getting louder, reaching a fever pitch, it seemed, only to get louder still. And then his new cellmate stood, steadying himself a moment, then trying to make out the other person he sensed in the darkness. "Hello? Who's there?" G'Kar heard that distinctive voice and, to his own surprise, laughed softly. Sheridan took a step into the meager light and peered into the gloom. "G'Kar? Is that... you?" The Narn thought about just the right thing to say, given the circumstances. "Please tell me," he said finally, "that you brought a deck of cards." Londo simply stood there, regarding her for a long moment. "No hug?" he asked. "Have you come here to gloat, Londo?" she asked icily. "Or perhaps you would like me to thank you, after sixteen years, for the lovely present you gave David." "That won't be necessary." To her surprise, it seemed as if he couldn't look her in the eye. "Were you pleased with yourself when you did that?" she asked. She knew this was precisely the wrong tack to take. Anything from pleading to wheedling would probably serve her better, but she was so consumed with fury that she could not contain herself. "Dooming a child not yet born, to a monstrous
fate . . . was that something you did routinely, or was it specially reserved just for us?" "You were my friends," he said. "Then may the gods have mercy on your enemies." "They actually seem to, now that you mention it," he commented thoughtfully. "My enemies seem to fare much better than my friends. Everyone I have ever loved, or felt close to, has come to a bad end, whereas those who oppose me thrive. Perhaps the gods are already carrying through on your wishes, Delenn." "If they are, then David would be free, we would be gone, and you would all be punished for what you have done." "It may very well be ... that that can be arranged. The first two, at least. The third, well," and he rolled his eyes, "we will have to leave that in the hands of others, I fear." For a moment, just one blessed moment, she felt hope stirring. "Are you saying... that David, John, and I will be freed?" "David... yes. I believe I can arrange that. You and your husband, however," and he shook his head gravely. "You desired to be gone. Well... dead is gone. It will, at least, end your torment That is the most I can offer you." "You're the emperor," she said. "I would have thought nothing beyond your abilities." "I would have thought that, too. Odd how things do not always work out the way one hopes." "You said David could be freed. How? What do you get out of it?" "Information." She snorted. It was a most un-Delenn-like sound. "I knew it. Well, you will have no more luck with-" But he was waving his hands, endeavoring to quiet her. "This is information you will part with, I think. It will not, in any way, compromise the security of the Interstellar Alliance. I would suspect that what I desire to know is so old that it can be of no use to anyone but me." "Old?" She looked with curiosity at him. "I am interested ... in the beginning," he said. "The beginning of all.. . this," and he gestured around himself as if to encompass the totality of existence. "It started with the Earth-Minbari War. It started with your people, really. Yours and the Humans. I know our side ... I know the Humans' side ... I would like to hear your side." "Why?" "Because, Delenn," he said with the air of someone who was releasing a great weight from himself, "when one does not see much of a future for himself, one becomes more and more intrigued by the past. I wish... to know these things. To fill in the gaps of my knowledge. My recollections of recent times fade in and out. I keep a journal from time to time, and that is all that preserves me, because I look at the entries several days later and cannot recall the incidents that prompted them. But my memory of times long past, ah ..." and he waggled a finger at her, "that remains, clear and pure. But it is only partial knowledge. I desire to know the rest. And you can tell me." "And if I do this thing.. . then David is free." "I will see to it. His main importance was to get you here." "That... thing on his neck. That will be removed from him?" He hesitated. "I suspect," he said, "that if I tried to lie to you now, you would know. So I will be honest with you: I cannot guarantee that, no. I will try. I will present a case, plead for it. Say that he has suffered enough. All I can promise you, though, is that he will be free ... and safe. It is the best I can offer you, Delenn." She wanted to ask him to whom he would present such a case, but she suspected that she would not receive an answer. Her mind racing, she weighed her options . . . and discovered that, in truth, she had precious few. "What do you want to know?" she said finally. "Everything." So she told him everything. It took some minutes, and it seemed as if she had to keep raising her voice as the cheers and shouts from outside grew louder still. He nodded, listening carefully, asking questions here and there. Finally she finished and there was silence for quite some time, punctuated only by the crowd's huzzahs. "You .. . were responsible," he whispered. He seemed overwhelmed by the idea. "You were responsible for the Earth-Minbari War." "Not solely. But. . . yes. Had I counseled differently ... had I not been caught up in the moment ... it would not have
happened. Then again-" she shrugged "-perhaps had I voted differently, others of the Grey Council might have changed their vote. Or the military might have staged a holy war, unapproved by the Council, out of vengeance. It is possible that it might have occurred anyway. But... in this reality ... yes. The stain is on my soul. I have spent much of my life endeavoring to cleanse it. I do not know, even now, how successful I have been." "You did what you thought was right for your people . . . and millions died because of it." "Yes." To her surprise, he laughed softly. "It may very well be, De-lenn . . . that we have more in common than either of us has thought... or is ready to admit." And suddenly an explosion from overhead nearly deafened them. Delenn looked up in the general direction of the sound, and the screams that were accompanying them. "In Valen's name," she whispered, "what's happening?" Displaying remarkable sangfroid, as if nothing was capable of surprising him anymore, Londo speculated, "I would guess that we are under attack. This may be your lucky day, Delenn," he said grimly. "The punishment you desired may well be upon us. You could wind up getting all three of your wishes sooner than you anticipated." chapter 20 Durla stood next to Vallko, amazed and impressed that the minister of spirituality was able to work up the crowd to this degree of ardor. Vallko, Durla, and other ministers were standing on the steps that led into the temple. The courtyard and the streets nearby were absolutely packed. It might very well have been that every Centauri in the capital city was there,
for word had spread that this was not going to be just another spiritual rally. Oh, those were exciting and uplifting enough, of course, but the rumors flying throughout the city implied that some special announcement would be made, one that was to be a culmination of years of effort. Probably the only Centauri who were not present were the permanent guards stationed around the Tower of Power, so me of the palace staff... and, of course, the emperor himself. Durla had informed him of the plans for the day, and incredibly, the emperor had elected not to come. "It is your performance, Durla," he had said. "I would rather not be seen as simply your assistant." That was fine with Durla. The more the focus was on him, the more he liked it. Durla could not have asked for a better day. The sky was pure blue, not a cloud disturbing the vista. In the near distance, the Tower of Power stretched toward the sky, proud and unbending, as if pointing the way to greatness. He knew that in hyperspace, even as Vallko spoke of the proud destiny that awaited Centauri Prime, the ships were waiting. By this time, they were at their stations, awaiting only the go-ahead from Durla to start their assault. But Durla had time. Standing on the edge of history, he wanted to savor the moment a while longer, as one studies a particularly succulent meal and appreciates it before carving into it. A worldwide communications web