Armies of Light and Dark (23 page)

"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 of 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," Mariel 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 Vir, 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 Vir needs me to be. Vir, I love you, I love you so much, come for me soon, Vir, 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 Homeworld – although 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 to 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.

EXCERPTED FROM THE CHRONICLES OF LONDO MOLLARI.
Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date) May 5, 2270.

The idiots. The blind idiots. Did they truly think that they could continue along this path without someone noticing? Did they believe that Sheridan and his associates would continue to be blissfully unaware of what is happening here?

I knew perfectly well that there were scans being done from orbit, every so often. We have had no privacy here on Centauri Prime. They watch over us as if we are children, making certain we do not scamper about in a woodpile with a lit flame. They worry that we will hurt ourselves ... hurt ourselves by developing weaponry or militarization that will be used against them, thereby forcing them to try and annihilate us.

Apparently Durla and his brilliant associates had the beginnings of a war machine being created on the continent of Xonos, the former stronghold of the Xon – the other race on Centauri Prime, which we wiped out many years ago. There was machinery being created there, which Durla claimed was to be used for agriculture. Agriculture! As if Sheridan was going to believe that. And the next thing I knew, I was left attempting to smooth over the ruffled feathers of the Alliance, assuring them that no, no, we Centauri are a peaceful people who harbor no hostility toward anyone.

Sheridan did not buy it for an Earth second, I'm sure. He said he wanted the Xonosian buildup dismantled. That there was concern the devices being developed there could be used for war. Durla is having fits. Vallko is getting the people stirred up and angry over this new Alliance oppression. Kuto is endeavoring to put a positive face on all of it, but is not coming close to succeeding – and I suspect that lack of success is by design.

And today ... Today I almost killed Throk. He has shown increased designs upon Sienna, and although she has been polite and receptive – even teasingly flirtatious – she has tended to keep him at arm's length. I have noticed that for some months now, and if I had noticed it, then certainly Throk did as well. He was becoming increasingly frustrated that their relationship was going just so far, and no further.

Last week, he approached me about arranging a marriage with her. When he walked into my throne room, I assumed that he was approaching me simply in his capacity as my aide. Imagine my surprise when he said, "Highness ... I wish to discuss the prospect of marriage." I stared at him in confusion for a moment, and then said, "Throk, I admit that I have gotten used to you as my valet, but I hardly see the need to formalize our association in that way." Ah, Throk. No sense of humor. "No, Highness. Between myself and your ward, Senna."

Now I admit my inclination was to think of Senna as little more than a child, and about Throk the same way. I realized, though, upon his inquiry, that not only is she of marriageable age, but that Throk would very likely be only the first of many ... presuming that I did not agree to the match. Throk spoke very properly, very formally. "I desire to arrange a match with Sienna. I come from the respectable house of Milifa, my father is–"

"I know who your house is, Throk," I said impatiently. "I know your lineage. You wish to be husband to Senna? You are aware of what that entails? You are prepared for the responsibility?"

"Yes, Highness. I think she will make a superb first wife."

"Indeed." Why did I not consider that a ringing endorsement?

"And how does Senna feel about the concept?"

He looked extremely puzzled.

"Does that matter?"

"Not always," I admitted. "But it does to me, in this case."

I turned to one of the guards and requested that he bring Senna to me. Within minutes she entered, quite the grown woman. I felt bad for her; she had spent most of her time in recent months socializing with the Prime Candidates who were inhabiting virtually every corner of the palace these days. There were almost no women in the palace aside from serving women. I could have done better on her behalf, in finding her females to associate with. But I suppose it was a bit late to start worrying about such considerations.

"Senna," I said, "Throk here has asked that I arrange a marriage."

Her eyes sparking with slightly evil amusement, Senna said, "I hope you two will be very happy together, Highness."