Armies of Light and Dark (19 page)

Out loud, however, Vir said mildly, "I suppose `subterfuge' isn't the right word. I suppose what I'm asking is, why didn't you just come right out and say so."

Londo nodded ever so slightly in mute approval. Without saying a word, they had said everything. The rest was simply for the benefit of whomever else might be listening.

"It is not simply for me to say," Londo answered him. "There are many considerations that must be made these days. For all the power that I wield, there are others whose feelings must be considered."

"Others such as Durla," Vir said hollowly.

Londo inclined his head slightly.

"Durla is minister of security. You, Vir, seemed on quite friendly terms with Timov. We know what happened with her."

"But that's–"

Londo didn't let him finish.

"And let us not forget that you are stationed on Babylon 5."

Vir wasn't following.

"So?"

"So you spend a good deal of time associating with members of the Alliance. They are rather pervasive on Babylon 5, after all. I think – and this is purely my speculation, mind you – I think Durla does not entirely know where your loyalties lie."

"My loyalties?" Vir actually laughed bitterly at that. "Londo, the people on Babylon 5 regard me with suspicion because I'm Centauri. If it weren't for Mariel charming all of them, none of them would even be speaking to me. As it is, even with their speaking to me, I know they still don't trust me. Perhaps I should tell Durla that..."

"Oh yesss. Yes, you do that," Londo said with heavy sarcasm in his voice. "You go right to Durla and tell him that the Centauri ambassador to Babylon 5 garners no respect and is not trusted. That is certain to elevate your stature here at court."

He knew Londo was right about that, but wasn't entirely sure where to take it from there.

"So ... so what do you suggest?"

"You are here, Vir. For now ... that is enough. Durla seems inclined to tolerate your presence here, and that should be enough to keep the situation stable for the time being. From what I understand, Mariel is working the same magic here that she was able to perform on Babylon 5. We have a new court, you see. The stigma attached to her, as a discard of the great Londo Mollari, seems far less problematic for all the new faces presently inhabiting the court. We should not be surprised over that, Vir."

"We shouldn't."

"No. Because, you see, the Centauri have no sense of history. There was a Human who once said `Those who do not listen to history are doomed to repeat it.' You know," and he chuckled softly, "for a backward race, those Humans certainly know what they're about."

"Did a Human say those words scribbled on Cartagia's statue?" They had passed the statue only moments before, and Londo cast a glance behind him, even though the statue was out of sight. His eyebrows knit a moment in confusion, and then he remembered and smiled, showing his pointed canines.

"Ahhhh yes. Yes, they did. I wrote them."

"You?" Vir couldn't help letting his surprise be in evidence. "You did?"

"Yes. I wrote them in honor of you ... our answer to Earth's Abraham Lincoln. Oh, wipe off that innocent look upon you, Vir. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Helping to save the Narns. Do you think me entirely without my own resources, Vir?" He made a scolding, clucking noise with his tongue. "You must think me the greatest fool on Centauri Prime."

"Oh, no, Londo!" Vir protested. "I don't!"

"It's all right, it's all right," Londo told him. "In all likelihood, it's an accurate enough assessment. The point is, Cartagia died at your hand. And part of you ... " His voice softened. "Part of you died that day, too. Yes?"

"Yes," Vir said softly.

"Well ... when Abraham Lincoln died, his assassin called out, `Sic semper tyrannis.' It is an old Earth tongue called Latin. It means `So is it always with tyrants.' Anyone who is a tyrant can look forward to similar unhappy endings. Words for us both to live by. For me ... and for you ... when you are, eventually, emperor."

"The prophecy," Vir sighed. "Sometimes I wonder whether to believe it. Sometimes I wonder whether to believe in anything."

"I stopped wondering about that a long time ago."

"And what was the answer you came up with?"

"Believe in nothing," Londo told him. "But accept everything."

Vir laughed bitterly at that.

"And if you do that ... what? You'll live longer?"

"Oh, Great Maker, I hope not," sighed Londo. "But it will make the time you are here that much more tolerable."

Minister Castig Lione threaded his way through the courtiers and got to Mariel's side. She was deep in pleasant conversation with several others when he placed a hand on her arm and said, "Lady Mariel ... if I might have a minute of your time?"

"For you, Minister?" She smiled that dazzling smile that could bring most mere mortals to their knees. "Two minutes." She draped an arm through his elbow and together they moved off from the crowd. Castig Lione guided her, gently but firmly, to his office in another wing. Because of his great height he had to bend somewhat to do so, but he managed to accomplish the task and still look less than foolish. The moment his office door was sealed behind them, he turned to face her with a grim expression on his face.

"Would you mind telling me," he said briskly, "what you are playing at, milady?"

"Playing at?" She looked genuinely puzzled "I do not understand, Minister."

"You, Lady Mariel," and he stabbed a finger at her, "are supposed to be working for this office. You are supposed to be reporting to me. Instead," he said with arch sarcasm, "you appear to be spending most of your time under Ambassador Cotto."

She didn't come close to losing her composure.

"Are you implying I am not doing my job, Minister?"

"No, I am not implying it. I am coming right out and saying it. The amount of valuable information you have been turning in regarding the Alliance has dwindled. Need I remind you, milady, that this office is serving to keep your account at a healthy level. You would do well to remember that, unless you believe that Ambassador Cotto's personal fortune will be enough to sustain you."

"Vir is not a rich man, Minister, and furthermore I resent–'

"I resent this game you are playing, Lady Mariel," Lione told her flatly. "Cotto was simply supposed to be a cover, a means to an end. Yet you seem to have lost sight of that and become genuinely enamored of him. That is not tolerable."

"A woman's heart cannot be regulated by memos and mandates, Minister. It's high time you remembered that."

"And it is high time you remembered, milady, that Vir Cotto is–"

"Is not up for discussion, Minister. That aspect of my life is personal."

"A personal life is a luxury you cannot afford to have, milady," Lione shot back.

"As long as I am associated with you."

"Correct."

"Very well," she said with a small shrug. "Then I will resign, effective immediately."

"It is not that simple, milady," Lione said.

"It is for me."

"No. Not for anyone." His voice became low and – most frighteningly – friendly. "You are a spy, Lady Mariel. There are those who would not be pleased to know that their confidences have been leaked to this office. I assure you that I can make certain, with no hint of connection to this office, that some of those individuals find out just what you have been up to."

Mariel glared at him, her jaw steely and twitching.

"You would not dare."

"Yes. I would. Tell me, milady ... how long do you think you would survive then, eh? You and your beloved Vir Cotto. I would not care to take those odds."

She was silent for a long moment.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

"What you do in your own time is of little interest to me, milady. But I want more of your time devoted to me. I want it to be as it was. If it is not," and he smiled, "then it will not be anything. And neither will you. Is that clear ... Lady Mariel?"

"Perfectly." Her grimness of expression was a marked contrast to Lione's.

"Good. Enjoy the rest of the party, then. And I shall look forward to hearing from you... on other matters."

It was the laughter that followed her out that most angered Mariel, and she resolved to make certain that Lione paid for his arrogance at the earliest opportunity.

C
HAPTER 9

It was early the following morning, and few were stirring within the palace, when Vir quietly made his way out. The one thing that had made the evening slightly bearable was the fact that, when Vir had gotten to the quarters assigned to Mariel and him, Mariel was already asleep. There was something different about her, he noticed. Usually she appeared utterly relaxed, sleeping the slumber of those who are content with their lives and all the decisions therein. But there was something about her this night that seemed ... taut. Something was on her mind, and Vir wished that there were a way of climbing into her head and seeing what was in there. Perhaps Galen could– No. He pushed that notion straight out of his head, even as he worked his way down to Ghehana.

Despite the ungodliness of the hour, the streets and sidewalks of the seamier side of Centauri Prime were bustling with a variety of individuals with whom Vir would be very happy to have no association whatsoever. Some of them glanced his way, but Vir took care not to make eye contact with anyone. It was a childish notion, he knew, the thought that as long as he didn't actually look at someone, they couldn't harm him. The very idea was enough to make him laugh over the absurdity of it. Except he didn't feel like laughing. He knew exactly where he was supposed to go, the address having been whispered in his ear.

Shortly after Londo had walked with him back to another section of the palace, Galen's whispering had started up within his ear once more. He thought it might be his imagination, but Galen sounded ever so slightly rattled, and even a bit relieved. This actually wasn't a pleasant impression to have. If something had occurred that was enough to disconcert a techno-mage, Vir was rather daunted to think that he might very well have been in the middle of it.

He tried to ignore the steady smell of the area around him. There had been rain earlier, and there were still thick globs of dirt and mud on the streets, which Vir had to do his best to step around. He realized that, if he was going to make any sort of habit of coming down to Ghehana, he was going to need special shoes ... or, at the very least, shoes he didn't particularly care about. Someone broke off from the darkness as Vir approached his goal, and for a moment he assumed it to be one of the techno-mages. But instead, it was a surly individual, who eyed Vir balefully. He said in a low, wine-soaked voice, "Give me money."

Vir stopped in his path.

"I ... don't have any money," he said cautiously. The next thing he knew, there was an object in the man's hand, and he was advancing on Vir.

"Find some," he rasped.

Vir's instinct was to run. And then, for no reason that he could readily discern, he suddenly realized that he wasn't afraid. All he felt at that moment was annoyed. The thought of everything that he had been through, all the emotional turmoil that he'd sustained, steeled him. He stopped backing up and instead stood his ground.

"Get out of here," he said sharply. The somewhat drunk and belligerent Centauri who had been advancing on Vir paused, looking confused. Vir realized that he must have looked like fairly easy pickings, and the would-be assailant couldn't understand the abrupt change in Vir's attitude.

"What?" he said, sounding rather stupid.

"I said get out of here. I have better things to do than waste time with you."

There was the unmistakable sound of metal sliding from a container, and a sharp blade emerged from the handle in the man's hand. He said nothing more, but came straight at Vir. Vir backpedaled, but not from fear. Instead, he crouched and scooped up a large handful of dirt and mud. He threw it with a strong sidearm toss, and the thick sludge landed in his attacker's face. The man coughed, blinded, and waved his hands around as if he were capable of gripping handholds floating in the air. Vir, meantime, did not hesitate. He stepped quickly forward and swung his right fist as hard as he could. His knuckles collided with the man's chin and Vir immediately realized that bone striking bone was an extraordinarily stupid idea. His fist seized up and convulsed in pain, and he let out an agonized yelp. His attacker, however, wasn't in a position to hear it, for he went down, apparently unconscious before he even hit the ground. The knife that he had been wielding clattered to the cracked pavement. A full thirty seconds passed, Vir rooted to the spot. Then he began to tremble as he just stared at the man lying senseless a few feet away. The anxiety of the moment caught up with him, and it was frightening, but it was also exhilarating.

"Nothing like fighting for your life to make you appreciative of it, eh?" He turned and found Fiman standing nearby. The knife was in Finian's hand. He was looking at it, apparently studying his reflection in the blade, which was long and straight. "Nice weapon. Do you want it?"

Vir automatically started to say no except he heard the word "Yes" come out of his mouth.

"Ah. Vir Cotto, hero. Play the role ... to the hilt," he said dramatically, and he handed the weapon over to Vir, handle first. Vir moaned softly at the pun, but nevertheless retracted the blade and slipped the knife into the inside pocket of his coat. "Come," Finian continued "This way." With a small smile, he added, "I am pleased that you are here. I feel so much safer now."

Vir let the remark pass. Instead, he followed Finian toward a building, briefly affording a glance at his erstwhile attacker.

Odd. His assailant had seemed so big before, somehow. Now he appeared pathetic. And Vir ... Vir felt tall. He followed Finian into the nearby structure, and up the narrow steps to a landing where Galen was waiting for him. Galen was simply standing there, holding securely onto his staff and watching Vir with glittering eyes. Gwynn was nearby, her gaze flickering from Vir to Galen and back again.