EXCERPTED FROM THE CHRONICLES OF LONDO MOLLARI. Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date) March 18, 2269. I wish there were some way I could have prevented it. Alas, poor Vir. It was inevitable, I suppose. Here he was, the poor fellow, making another return visit to Centauri Prime, in the company of Mariel. And he leaves without her. In a way, it is the most beneficial thing that could have happened to him. What is most remarkable is the brave face that he is putting on it. But I do not believe it. Vir is the type to give his heart fully, and not wisely, and he could not have committed a more grievous error than giving it to Mariel. But to lose her to ... that ... person? Feh. Whatever difficulties I may have with Mariel, no matter how poisonous I consider her, it grieves me to see Vir hurt ... even as I am led to believe that this is probably the best thing that might have happened to him.
chapter 10 Durla leaned forward in his chair, clearly not certain that he had heard Vir properly. "Do I . . . what?" he asked. "Want her," Vir said flatly. He was speaking with a remarkable air of boredom and disdain that Durla would never have thought possible from the ambassador. It was possible that he had underestimated him. But before he made any adjustments in his view of Vir, he had to fully understand what it was that Vir was asking. "Do you want Mariel?"Vir repeated. "Ambassador," Durla said in a slow, measured tone, "putting aside for a moment my personal wants and desires . . . the lady Mariel is a free woman. She cannot be bartered." "Women," Vir said, "do as they're told. Of course," he added ruefully, "they have an annoying way of letting us know what they want so we can tell them to do it, eh?" Minister Durla had trouble believing this was the same person he had met with on Babylon 5, in the Zocalo, a little less than a year ago. Vir seemed so . . . so blasé. So blase. So world- weary. Durla had also believed that, when they had first met, Vir had felt some degree of trepidation toward him. Now, however, the ambassador was speaking as if they were old friends. Durla wasn't entirely certain what was prompting this degree of familiarity, and although he also was not sure that he appreciated it, he wasn't entirely sure that he disliked it, either. He had thought he'd had Vir Cotto fairly well pegged as a harmless buffoon. If he was wrong about that, then it might be entirely possible that Cotto actually posed a threat. On the other hand, he might also prove useful. It was far too soon to make a judgment. 160 "Certainly," Vir continued, "you must have noticed that the lady Mariel is paying an annoying amount of attention to yon* "She seemed . . . quite friendly, yes," said Durla. "But I wasn't attributing it to anything save general sociality." The truth, of course, ran far deeper than that. Durla had known Mariel since they were both young, and he was in love with her, had been for as long as he could remember . She had always aroused a hunger within him as no other woman had, before or since. In order to attract her attention and interest, he had raised her from obscurity--a condition prompted when Londo Mollari had dismissed her--and assigned her to work under Chancellor, and later Minister, Lione. She owed everything about her current return to status to Durla, and he had silently-and foolishly, it seemed- waited for her to notice and appreciate him. Instead she had hooked up with Vir, so that Durla barely made any impression on her. It had been enough to drive him to paroxysms of fury. When he had finally managed to calm down--a process that had required several months-he had decided that he had had enough of subterfuge. Under the guise of desiring the return of Vir Cotto and a reinstatement of his relationship with the emperor, all out of his concern for Londo's well-being, of course, Durla had arranged for Vir and Mariel to be his occasional guests. During that time, he had done everything that he could to attract her notice, to impress her with his power and privilege. That was, after all, what she ultimately sought. However, it had seemed to him that his efforts had remained utterly in vain. Oh, she was polite enough, charming enough . . . but she spoke incessantly of Vir and of how wondrous an individual he was, to the point where Durla was wondering why he had even bothered. He had reached a point where he had resigned himself to never having Mariel, because he couldn't begin to understand how the woman's mind worked. And now, all of a sudden, Vir had simply wandered into his oince, dropped down into a chair opposite Durla's desk, and began chatting. From nowhere, his "offer" in regard to Mariel had been broached. Durla wanted to think it some sort of absurd joke. After everything he had done, after the scheming and involved placement of individuals ... it couldn't be that simple, could it? "It's more than being sociable, I assure you," said Vir. For a moment he looked uncomfortable and fidgeted slightly in his chair. He lowered his voice slightly, and asked, "Can I trust your discretion, Minister?" "Of course! Absolutely," Durla said. "Because I have my pride, the same as any man. And this, well ... this situation ... is not one that I am exceedingly pleased over." "It never leaves this room," Durla assured him. Vir leaned forward, his fingers interlaced, and in a low voice-as if concerned that they were being overheard-he said, "The fact is, the woman doesn't stop talking about you. Whenever we are alone, and even in the company of others back on Babylon 5, she speaks of nothing but you." "When she is with me, she speaks only of you." Vir waved dismissively. "A cover, nothing more. She is a subtle creature, the lady Mariel, and it wouldn't be in character for her to speak so effusively of you when you're near her. But she hasn't been covering as well lately as she had been. You must have noticed." Durla thought about it, and realized that Vir was right. She had been looking at Durla differently. Her hand, lighting upon his shoulder, had remained a bit longer than would have been normal. She had definitely been more flirtatious. He had been afraid to hope, though ... hadn't dared allow himself... "But what she says to me in private, well. . ." Vir shook his head. "She's made her sentiments quite clear. The simple fact is that she wants you, Durla. She's dying to be with you. And, to be blunt, I'm getting tired of listening to it. Listening to her pining away. And as for our sex life, well," and he snorted ruefully. "How do you think I felt when she cried out, `Oh yes, yes, Durla, yes!' at exactly the time you wouldn't want to hear another man's name mentioned. I mean, honestly!" "How ... how embarrassing that must have been for you. And to admit it now ... But. . ." He shook his head. "I don't understand. If she desires to be with me, why doesn't she just ... I mean, she is not your chattel, your property. . ." Vir looked even more uncomfortable than before. "Well, to be honest ... in a way, she is." His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" "I mean," Vir said with a great sigh, as if unspooling a deep secret, "that the Lady Mariel is not ... how shall I put it ... not with me completely of her own free will." At first Durla had no idea at all what Vir could possibly mean. But then he did. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "You're ... blackmailing her?" Vir looked taken aback. "Blackmail? You accuse me of blackmailing my own paramour for the purpose of getting her to be with me?" "My apologies, Ambassador, I didn't mean-" "Don't apologize. That's pretty much it." Durla had no idea what to say. On the one hand, he found it repulsive. On the other hand, he almost admired Cotto for the sheer audacity-to say nothing of the almost jovial way in which he admitted to it. "What are you, uhm ... how do ... that is to say. . ." "What am I blackmailing her with?" He shrugged. "It really wouldn't be honorable of me to say, now, would it." "Perhaps. But then again, it isn't exactly honorable of you to have blackmailed her in the first place." "A good point," admitted Vir. "But then again, a man who lusts after a female will do just about anything. Besides ... she served a very specific purpose. She made me look good" "Look good?" Then he understood almost immediately. "To others on Babylon 5." "Exactly. You know, Durla, you've seen her. A man with a woman like that on his arm, fawning over him... it can't help but raise him in the estimation of other men. But let's be honest, okay?" He leaned forward. "Look at me. Seriously, look at me. Do I look like the kind of man that a woman like Mariel would be drawn to? I have my moments, certainly, but let's face it: I'm not her type. You see, though, why I wouldn't want this information to leave the room." "Of course, of course. For others to think that she stayed with you simply out of fear that you would expose her via some ... extortionist threat. Still ...
you are essentially saying you want to be free of her, for all intents and purposes. To `give her' to me, as you put it." He leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced. "Why? If there is one thing that I have learned, Ambassador, it is that people rarely act out of the goodness of their hearts. Generally speaking, they want something. What do you want?" Vir let out a long, unsteady breath. Some element of his polished demeanor seemed to be slipping, and it might well be that his genuine emotions were beginning to slip through. Without looking at Durla, he said, "Believe it or not, Minister-I was once a decent man. A man who never would have dreamt of forcing a woman to be with him. I . . . used to be someone else. Someone I liked better." His gaze flickered back to Durla. "I have been viewing some of Minister Vallko's prayer meetings lately. Got them via vid delay on Babylon 5. Even went to one in person this morning. And he was talking about what Centauri Prime should be, and what we should be. Of what we should be living up to, and how we should be aspiring to what we once were." "The minister is a very inspirational speaker," agreed Durla. His chest swelled slightly with pride. "1 chose him, you know. As our spiritual minister." "Did you. I'm not surprised." He let out his breath in a slow, steady stream. "In any event ... I was thinking about what he said ... about being what we once were. And I found I was getting ... nostalgic, I guess is the right word. Nostalgic for the kind of man who would never have done what I was doing. I suppose that sounds ridiculous." "No. Not at all." "Of course, there's the question of whether you are interested in her?" His eyebrows arched in curiosity. "Are you?" It was everything that Durla could do, all the control he could muster, not to shout Yes! Yes! For as long as I can remember ! For as long as I have felt passion for any woman, I have wanted her! Instead he was the picture of calm as he said, "She is not . . . unattractive. Indeed, some might even term her vivacious. I admit, I have not been particularly aggressive in the pursuit of women as of late. There have been so many things on my mind. It is difficult to attend to affairs of the heart when one is weighed down by affairs of the state." "Oh, absolutely ... absolutely. Still . . . we have a problem here. Perception is everything, as I'm sure you know. I am trying to do the right thing, but I do not need people to believe that I was tossed aside by the lady Mariel in favor of you. I don't have to tell you how that will make me look." Durla nodded, and Vir continued, "Nor do I desire that people know the circumstances under which Mariel stayed with me. You, on the other hand, don't want people thinking that you are getting a woman who was tossed aside by not only the emperor , but by the ambassador of Babylon 5. That, likewise, would not reflect well on you." "All valid points." Vir leaned forward intently. "How much do you like her? Really like her, I mean?" Durla looked at him askance. "What," he said slowly, "are you suggesting?" Vir smiled. "Are you a gambling man?" he asked. "Under the right circumstances," said Durla. "Tell me what you have in mind." Ever since the bombing, there had been a systematic eradication of anything remotely related to Humans, Earth, or the Interstellar Alliance in general. For a while Humans and their assorted absurd influences had been stylistically quite popular on Centauri Prime, but ever since Earth had become the mortal enemy, Vallko had been calling for an aggressive return to the Centauri roots. Naturally, the Centauri had been happy to accommodate him in all things. Or nearly all things. With one notable exception that proved particularly convenient in Vir's current plan. Poker. The insidiously addictive card game had worked its way so thoroughly into Centauri culture that, no matter what Vallko might demand in terms of isolationist activities, no one- especially the upper classes, with whom it was so popular- was inclined to give up what had become a preferred pastime. So a rumor was begun that poker had actually been invented by an early Centauri ambassador, who had in turn introduced it to Humans, and so the game continued in its popularity. This particular evening, a fairly brisk game was underway. Londo knew that it was happening, and as he sat in the throne room, he thought of how-once upon a time-he would have joined them. Now, of course, he was emperor. It would be considered unseemly, inappropriate. What would people think? "I am the emperor," he said out loud with a sudden start of realization. "Who cares what people think?" He rose from his throne and headed for the door. Throk was immediately at his elbow, saying, "Highness, I thought you said you were staying in for the evening . . ." "As I do every ev ening. I tire of repetition. Life is too short, Throk. We go." "Where do we go, Highness?" Londo turned to him, and said, "In my day, I was quite the poker player. I understand there is a game going on right now. Take me to it." "Highness, I don't know that " "I don't believe I asked for your opinion on the matter, Throk," Londo told him flatly. "Now . . . will you do as I instruct , or must I attend to this on my own . . . and find a way to make my displeasure clear to you at a later date?" Moments later, an uneasy Throk was leading Londo down a long corridor. From the far end of the hall they actually heard laughter. It seemed to Londo he could not recall the last time he had heard anything approaching genuine merriment in the palace. Instead the place seemed to be sui%cating in intrigue, backroom politics, and deals that usually did not bode well for the good people of Centauri Prime. The laughter approached a truly high-decibel level, and he could make out people speaking in a scoffing tone, apparently not believing something that one of them was saying. Londo could make out a few words here and there: "He's not serious." "A bold move." "You would not dare." And then there was a sudden silence. At first Londo thought that the abrupt cessation of noise might be due to his arrival on the scene, but as he entered he saw that all attention was focused away from the door and instead on two players at the table. His blood froze when he saw who they were. One of them was Vir. The other was Durla. Each was peering at the other over fans of cards that they were clutching in their respective hands. Also seated around the table were Kuto, Castig Lione, and Munphis, the newly appointed minister of education and one of the most singularly stupid men that Londo had ever met. Their cards were down; clearly they were not part of this confrontation. Londo wasn't sure whether he was happy or distressed that Vir was among them. The more acceptance that Vir had among the ministers, the easier it would be for him to come and go, and therefore the more likely it would be that Londo could have him around to chat with whenever he desired. On the other hand, the last thing he wanted was for Vir to become like those power-grubbing predators. "Did I come at a bad time?" inquired Londo. They looked at him then, and started automatically to rise. "No, no, don't get up," he said, gesturing for them to remain where they were. "I was thinking of joining you. . . but matters seem a bit intense at the moment. I assume there are some elevated stakes before us?" "You could say that," Vir commented. Kuto stirred his bulk around on his chair to face the emperor , and said, "The ambassador has wagered his paramour." "What?" The words didn't entirely make sense to Londo at first, but then he understood. He looked at Vir incredulously. "You are ... not serious." Vir nodded. As much antipathy as Londo felt for Mariel, something about this made his stomach turn. "Vir, she is a free woman. You cannot `wager' her . . ." "Actually, I can. She will respect a debt of honor, should it come to that," Vir told him. "But how can you use her as you would a ... a marker!" demanded Londo. "Because I was out of money," Vir said reasonably. "And besides. . ." Vir gestured for him to come over and, when he did so, held up his cards. Londo looked at them. Four kings. "Oh. That's how," said Londo. "The ambassador is seeking to cause me to rethink the wager," Durla said thoughtfully. "And the emperor is aiding him in this. Hmm. Whether to take the bet or not. A considerable amount of money and a woman on the line. The woman has no true monetary value, for her own resources are limited, but there is a certain ... nostalgia value to her. What to do, what to do." He looked at his own hand, and then said, "Very well. The bet is called." Vir placed his cards down triumphantly, a smile splitting his face. Durla blinked in obvious surprise. "That," he said, "I was not expecting." "Thank you," said Vir, reaching for the chips that represented his winnings. But without taking a breath, Durla continued, "Just as, I am sure, you were not exp
ecting ... this." And, one by one, he placed four aces upon the table. There was a stunned hush around the table. Londo looked from one to the other, waiting for some sort of word, some type of reaction. And then Vir laughed. He laughed long and loud, and then reached over and gripped Durla's hand firmly. "Well played!" he said. "Very well played! I will inform Mariel at once." "You are an honorable man, Vir Cotto," Durla said for- mally, "and a most formidable opponent. I have nothing but the greatest respect for you." Vir bowed graciously, and stepped back from the table. 'Thir A moment of your time," Londo said, falling into step beside him, and they walked out of the room together. Londo opened his mouth to speak, then became aware of the footsteps behind them. Without even looking back, he said, "Throk, some privacy if you would not mind." Throk, by this point in their relationship, knew better than to argue, and he faded back from the scene. "Vir," Londo said briskly, "what do you think you have done? Might not Mariel have something to say in this matter?" "Not really," said Vir coolly. "She won't mind. To be honest, I think she was getting bored with Babylon 5, and nostalgic for the halls of home. What's the matter, Highness? Don't want to have to deal with her hanging about the palace? Worried?" "No, I am not worried. . ." "You should be," Vir's voice suddenly grew harsh. "She tried to kill you, Londo. We both know that. Oh, she claimed it was an accident. She said she had no idea that the statue was rigged. But it's not true." All the words came out in a rush. "She knew before she set foot on Babylon 5 that you were planning to divorce two of your wives, and she wasn't going to take any chances. She'd had past dealings with Stoner, and arranged with him to bring the artifact to Babylon 5 for 'resale .' When Stoner sold it to a merchant, he slipped the merchant a note that a certain elegant Centauri woman would come by and express interest in it ... and that she would simply point rather than pick it up, since the touch of any Centauri would trigger it. So if you have any sympathy for her, Londo, I wouldn't if I were you." Londo was stunned by the outpouring of information. "How do you know all this?" "She told me." "And she told you ... why?" "Because I asked her. Recently, in fact. Oh, but don't worry, Londo ... she's no threat to you anymore. She has . . . other considerations." "Vir, putting aside what you have told me-and I admit, it is a good deal to put aside-I was not concerned about Mariel so much as I was about you." "Me? Why? I would think you'd be happy I'm quit of her." "Because," Londo gestured helplessly, "she seemed to make you happy. I thought she had, perhaps, changed. Yet now I see," and his gaze searched Vir's face for some sign of the naive young Centauri he had once known, "that she has not changed half as much as you." "I grew up, Londo. That's all," Vir told him. "It happens to all of us. Well ... all of us except Peter Pan." "What?" Londo blinked in confusion. "Who?" Vir waved him off. "It doesn't matter. Londo, look ... with all respect to you and your position and everything ... just stay out of it, okay? This simply isn't your concern." And with that he picked up the pace and hurried off to his quarters, leaving an extremely perplexed emperor in his wake. Mariel had almost finished gathering her things when there came a chime at the door. "Yes?" she called as the door slid open, and then she blinked in surprise. "Well. To what do I owe the honor?" Londo entered, his hands draped behind his back, and he said, "Hello, Mariel. You are looking well." "Greetings, Highness. Should I bow?" She made a formal curtsy. "Oh, I think there is little need for such formalities between us, my dear." He approached her slowly and carefully, as if she were an explosive. "So tell me, Mariel ... what is your game this time, eh?" "My game?* "You have switched allegiances, I hear. From Vir to Durla. Decided that he represents your best hope at getting up in the world?" "In case you had not heard, Londo," she said evenly, "I was not present at the game where I was bartered away. No one asked me my opinion. But Vir has made it quite clear to me that his honor is on the line. I have been given no choice in the matter. Besides-"she shrugged "-Durla is a pretty enough man. He seems to fancy me. He is well positioned within the government. Vir had charm and humor, but that will only go so far. This is a fairly practical happenstance for me. And I have long ago lost any illusions as to what my purpose in life is." "And what would that purpose be?" "Why, Londo ... to make men happy, of course. Did I not do that for you?" She smiled sweetly and traced the line of his chin with one slim finger. "There are some things in which I have always excelled." "Including manipulation of events when they suit your fancy. Answer me truthfully, Mariel, if such a concept is not entirely foreign to you: Did you arrange that card game somehow? Did you mastermind this entire business?" "Why on Earth would I need to `mastermind' anything, Londo?" she demanded, a bit of the carefully held sweetness slipping away. "If I decided I preferred Durla to Vir, what was to stop me from simply approaching Durla ... especially if, as you likely suspect, I care nothing for Vir save how he suits my purposes. Why would I feel the need to resort to some sort of convoluted business with a card game?" "I do not know," Londo said thoughtfully. "But if I find out..." "If you find out, then what, Londo? All parties are satisfied with the outcome of what transpired this evening around that table. The only one who seems to have difficulties with it is you, and you are not involved." He took a step toward her, and in a flat voice said, "It occurred on Centauri Prime. I, th e emperor, am Centauri Prime. That makes me involved. Something in this business is not right." "Something on this planet is not right, Londo. Perhaps you'd better serve the interests of Centauri Prime if you concentrated on that, rather than the outcome of a hand of poker." The door opened once more and a member of the Prime Candidates was standing there. "Lady Mariel," he said with a sweeping bow, "I was sent by Minister Durla . . " "Yes, of course. That bag, and that one there," she pointed to several packed suitcases. "I have arranged for my belongings from Babylon 5 to be sent to me as soon as possible." She turned to Londo and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Is there anything else, Highness? Or am I dismissed?" His jaw shifted several times as if he were cracking walnuts with his teeth. "Go," he said finally. "By your leave," she said with another elaborate curtsy, and she headed off down the hall, leaving Londo scowling furiously and wondering what in the world had just happened. She had haunted his dreams. The dream image of Mariel had come to him, years ago, and told him to begin the dig upon K0643. And in later months, the dreams of Mariel had made repeat visits, and told him to do other things. She had been his dream guide, the means by which his mind had worked and planned and plotted the destiny that Centauri Prime was to follow. At first when she had come to him in his dreams, he had not remembered it upon waking. But in later weeks and months, the fragments had coalesced. The connection, the bond between them-spiritually, only, of course-had become more firm, more intertwined, with every bit of guidance that his subconscious mind had given him. He had even taken to sleeping with a recording device next to him, so that if he happened to wake up during one of his dream sessions, he would be able to grab the device and make a record of whatever thought had occurred to him. That way nothing would ever be lost. And in many of those dreams, she had promised that, sooner or later, she would be his. All it would take was patience and dedication, and she would eventually come to him of her own volition. Now it had happened He could scarcely believe it. She stood there in his room, clad in a gown so sheer that at certain angles of light it was practically invisible. "Hello, Minister," she said. He entered the room on legs that suddenly felt leaden. "Greetings, Lady," he replied, and he realized that his voice sounded rather hoarse. He cleared it forcefully. "I think you should know that ... if you desire no part of this. . ." She came slowly toward him. To Durla, it seemed as if she were gliding across to him on ice, so minimal were her movements , so gracefully did she walk. She faced him ... exactly who I wish to be." "This is ... so abrupt," he said. But she shook her head. "To you, perhaps. But for me, it has been long in coming. I have admired you from afar, Durla ... Certainly you must have realized that when you came to Babylon 5." "You spoke mostly of Vir." She laughed, her voice chiming like a hundred tiny bells. "That was to make you jealous, my dear Durla. Certainly a man o
f the world such as yourself must have seen through it. A man who has accomplished all that you have accomplished , done all the things that you have done. Why you," and she began to undo the top of his shirt, "are the single greatest leader on this planet. Everyone knows that." "Everyone does, eh?" His pride was swelling, and that wasn't the only thing. "Of course! Who is it who conceives of, and oversees, all the reconstruction projects? Who is the power behind the emperor , developing programs, picking the key people for the right positions? Who has a true vision of what this world should be? Who stirs the people's hearts and souls? Did you not conceive of the Tower of Power? Did you not handpick Vallko to uplift the spirits of all Centauri Prime? And who knows what other grand plans you have!" "They are grand, yes." He paused. "Do you want me to tell you about them? Are you interested?" "I am interested only in that they are reflections of your greatness," Martel said, and her warm breath was in his ear. He thought his legs were going to give way, and it was all he could do to remain standing. "But we need not hear of such matters now. We have other things to do ... things of much greater interest," and she took his face in her hands, "and you have been waiting for them ... for quite some time. Haven't you. " He nodded. His throat was seized up; he couldn't get a word out. "Well, you don't have to wait any longer," she said, and she kissed him slowly, languorously. Their lips parted, and he whispered, "You knew ... somehow you knew, all this time, didn't you." "Of course I knew." "About the dreams ... how you've been in them. . ." Her gaze flickered for just the briefest of moments, and he took it to be confirmation of all his beliefs. Then he was entirely caught up in the moment, as she said quickly, "Yes, all about the dreams. All about all of it. And this is where we are meant to be now, Durla ... our time and our place." She was undoing something at her shoulders, and the gown slid from her. And then he was upon her, like a ravening creature, unleashing something that had been pent up all this time ... And as they came together, she took herself out of her mind. Vir's image filled her mind, filled her body, and she thought of how it had all come to this. I have been bad, she thought, and led a bad life, and have done terrible things and used people, and this is my punishment . Because Vir told me Durla is the key to it all. That Durla will have information that we need. That I must be by Durlas side, always, for that is the only way I can get information to Vir as he needs it. Being with Durla is what will make Vir happy, and I must make Vir happy. IfI do not make him happy, I will die. So I must leave him to be with Durla, to be where my beloved Vir most needs me. But whenever Durlas arms are around me, whenever he loves me, it will be my Vir that I am feeling and thinking of. And someday, someday, my Vir will come for me, and we will be together forever and ever, through death and beyond. And this... this means nothing in the meantime. Nothing at all. I will smile and gasp and whisper small names and say all the things that are meaningless unless I say them to Fir, but they will keep Durla, and I will be able to learn from him what I need. I will be the spy that Castig Lione calls me, and I will cooperate , and be everything Durla wants me to be so that I can be what Mr needs me to be. Hir, I love you, I love you so much, come for me soon, Fir, I will wait... wait forever and ever.. . And when Durla saw the tears running down her face, she told him that they were merely tears of joy, and he believed her because it felt so good to believe ... Vir stood on the balcony that overlooked the wonders of Centauri Prime. He thought about what was going to be needed to keep the people safe, and the sacrifices that had to be made. He thought of how Durla adored him now, for he had given Durla that which the minister most desired while, at the same time, maintaining both their dignities. For that, Durla would be eternally grateful. He knew Durla's type all too well. Creatures who operated with a sense of manifest destiny, and a certainty that fate was going to play things their way and ultimately give them everything that they wanted, if they simply persevered. He might have some initial trepidation, but Vir knew that Durla would not question Mariel's willing defection too much, for the last thing he would want to do under the circumstance is look too closely at what had been handed him. It all had to be handled internally. All the darkness, all the lies, all of the frightening presence lurking just out of sight it was up to Vir to have to deal with it. Vir and whomever else he could gain as an ally, willing or otherwise. Because if the Alliance or Sheridan or any of them caught wind of anything that was going on, then Centauri Prime would end in flames. Vir was certain of that much. He could not see that again, could not go through that horror one more time. He would do whatever was necessary to stave off such a horrible happenstance. Because it was going to get worse. He had made some initial inquiries. He had gone to men such as Rem Lanas and Renegar, men who had barely survived the horror of K0643. They knew that Vir had tried to warn them, and had come to realize that when Vir Cotto spoke of warnings, then those warnings were ignored at one's extreme peril. And they were hearing things, distant things, stories from friends of friends of friends. Stories of parts of Centauri Prime being harnessed for very, very secretive work, but they weren't bringing in just any Centauri worker, oh no. No, apparently the ministry wasn't happy with the outcome of K0643, and because scapegoats were needed, the workers were targeted. It must have been that the workers, in their ham-handed way, had mismanaged and mishandled that dig. So now there was new work being done, work of a secret nature, and it appeared that the workforce was being culled entirely from the Prime Candidates. The youth of Centauri Prime, the hope of the future, being employed for some sort of dark and fearsome business that Vir could not even begin to guess at. He needed to know more, but Lanas and Renegar were nervous, at least to start out. He knew that they would come around, that they could and would provide him with more. They, and others like them who were becoming aware that something was terribly wrong on their beloved Homeworldalthough just how wrong, Vir was not prepared to tell them. Not yet. Vir needed someone inside, and quickly. There had been only one likely person. He had told himself it was the only thing to do. And when the morality of it got to him, he thought of wicked women and of how the punishments they received were certainly due t o their wickedness. And of how those who administered those punishments were pure of motive, without any stain upon their souls. He thought of all that, and then felt a cold wind cut through him, unseasonably chilly. He drew his robe tight and gazed up into the cloudless night sky, and he clung to that rationalization until he could sustain it no longer. Finally, he spoke the truth that he and only he knew. "I am damned," he said to the emptiness around him, and there was no one within earshot to tell him otherwise.