"Exactly." There wasn't much light in the cavern, but what there was danced with almost hellish glee in Vir's eyes. "If we are patient... and thorough ... and build up our forces ... we will be triumphant. It is possible to take the long view. Once I met a servant of the Shadows. I told him that I longed to see his head on a pole and that, if it happened, I would wave to him like this." And he demonstrated, waggling his fingers in a manner that almost seemed comical. "It took several years ... but that was exactly what happened."
"But how long can we sustain this?" Renegar asked. "Because if we are not careful, it'll be our heads up on poles, just as happened with poor Lanas."
"We will sustain it as long as is necessary," Vir told him firmly. "Remember, there are more, many more in our little movement. And we will get the job done. We have our connections. We will continue to get information, and use it well. But if we rush into anything, we'll be carried along in the tidal wave of events... and get swamped. We have to ride the crest of it and, in that way, stay above it."
"But we have techno-mages on our side," Renegar pointed out. "The two of you have stayed mostly in the background. Your disposing of this," and he nudged a toe into the body of the Drakh, "is something of a departure. Either you stay away or, when you do show up, you utter a few cryptic comments. But otherwise, for the most part, you keep to yourselves."
"That is because you are not our pawns," Finian told them. "You do as you wish, when and where you wish. We are, however, not averse to watching your backs every now and again." He indicated the fallen Drakh. "Case in point."
"Do not presume that we always will, though," Gwynn warned. "Your boundless enthusiasm is a disincentive. Plus, we have our own affairs to consider. So I suggest you do not try our patience..."
"For you are subtle and quick to anger?" Vir asked. When Gwynn nodded, looking a bit surprised, Vir explained, "Londo once told me that a techno-mage said that to him, many years ago."
"It has not changed," Finian said.
Clearly deciding that the conversation needed to head off in another direction, Vir said firmly, "All right ... here's what we'll do, then. All of you know people at different levels in the Houses. Talk to them. Feel them out. Get eyes and ears into any of the Houses where we don't have contacts. Durla is going to come down on them even more harshly than he has before. He's going to feel the need to either beat them down or eliminate them completely. We have to let them know that there is an alternative. That they do not simply have to roll over.
"In addition, our strikes at key construction points will continue. Siphoning the materials through deliveries at Babylon 5 has been an exercise in caution, but I've been using the station as a clearinghouse for the individual components of the explosives, so no one has been associating it with the completed devices."
The conversation went on for some time, Vir laying out the groundwork for how their resistance movement was going to continue to survive. The techno-mages stopped talking, simply listening and – remarkably – even nodding on occasion. Finally Vir said, "All right... are there any questions?"
"Yes. I have a question," Renegar said.
Vir looked at him expectantly.
"Are we going to win?" he asked.
Without a moment's hesitation, Vir replied, "Yes. And not only are we going to win ... but the Drakh are going to lose. You've seen the face of the enemy," and he pointed at the fallen creature. "It's nothing unbeatable. They can be hurt. They can die. And if that's the case, then we can injure them and we can kill them. And we will. However many it takes in order to rid Centauri Prime of this... this cancer that's eating away our soul. That's what we'll do with our underground movement."
"Considering where we're meeting," Adi said, looking around, "I'd say 'underground' is definitely the right word for it."
This resulted in something very unusual for one of their clandestine meetings: a roar of laughter. For just one moment, they had a feeling of what it would be like to meet, not as coconspirators or desperate freedom fighters, but simply as men enjoying each other's company. Renegar wondered whether they ever would have that opportunity, to live relatively normal and unassuming lives. And he said as much.
Vir looked at Renegar skeptically and responded. "Renegar... if you had a normal and unassuming life ... you wouldn't know what to do with it."
Renegar thought about that, then nodded. "You are very likely correct. But..." he added, "would it not be nice ... to have the opportunity to find out?"
To that notion, Vir had no response.
EXCERPTED FROM
THE CHRONICLES OF LONDO MOLLARI.
Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date)
September 24,2276.
Note to historians: Although naturally the Centauri year is different from an Earth year, we have taken the liberty of adjusting the date and having it reflect a parallel passing of time, vis-a-vis Earth time, due to Londo's passing reference to his anniversary with G'Kar, so as to avoid confusion for our Earth readers. We at the Centauri Historical Society are aware of the late emperor's fondness for inhabitants of Earth, and feel that he would approve of our efforts to minimize anything that might leave those readers in a quandary. For chronological purists among you, we thank you for your indulgence.
G'Kar stood at the door, in the same way that he always did. Straight, tall – looking directly ahead. And I, seated on the other side of the table, gestured for him to enter just as I always did. "One would think," I told him as he walked across the room, "that after all this time, you would see no need to stand on ceremony."
"Ceremony, Highness, is all we have. Without it, you are merely an oddly dressed Centauri in clothing that picks up dirt all too easily."
"You know what I like about you, G'Kar? You make me laugh."
"You did not laugh just now."
"So I didn't like you as much. Sit, sit." He never sits until I tell him to. I think he considers it a sort of odd game. "So... how was your day today, G'Kar?"
"The same as it was yesterday, Londo, and very much – I suspect – the way it will be tomorrow. Unless, of course, you decide to have me executed today."
"Why today?" I asked. I signaled for the wine steward to bring me a new bottle, and he went off to fetch it.
"Why not today?" he countered. "Sooner or later, my amusement value will reach its end, and then..." He shrugged and made a throat-cutting gesture.
"Is that how you think I see you, G'Kar? As only having 'amusement value'?" I shook my head, discouraged. "How very tragic."
"Of all the tragedies in your life, Londo, I truly think that my opinion in this instance rates fairly low on the scale."
"True. True." There was a silence then, the comfortable silence of two old acquaintances. I do not know if, even now, I dare use the word "friend." The new bottle was brought, glasses were placed in front of us, and the wine was poured. G'Kar raised his glass and sniffed its contents with a delicacy that provided an amusing contrast to his rough-hewn exterior. "This," he announced, "is actually a good vintage."
"Is not all my wine of good vintage?"
"Not of this caliber," he said. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"It has been a year," I told him. "A year since you saved my life and came under protection. A year since we began our weekly dinners together. I am surprised. I would have thought the date would be seared into your memory."
"There is a great deal occupying my mind at the moment, Londo," he said. "My apologies. This significant date must have been squeezed out of its proper place of importance. So if we are to celebrate this anniversary, does that mean you will be letting me go?"
"Why would I want to do that?" I asked. "Allow my most excellent friend, G'Kar, to simply depart? No, no... I am afraid I cannot, if for no other reason than that it would reflect poorly in the eyes of those who watch me most carefully."
"Because I am a potential tool that might be used in the event that the current situation deteriorates."
I hated to admit that he was right but, of course, he was. "True enough," I said slowly. "My prime minister and his associates have made it clear to me that you will be allowed to live only if you do so here, under my protection. If I permit you to leave, it will seem as if I am granting you permission to violate the laws of Centauri Prime. Laws that ban visitors, that ban changeling devices. I cannot be seen as being lenient on criminals."
G'Kar had finished his wine. The steward moved toward him to refill the glass, but G'Kar as usual, placed a hand over it to indicate that he wanted no more. "Why can you not?" he asked. "Be lenient, I mean. Certainly a quality such as mercy would be highly valued. Particularly when one considers the brutal actions taken by some of your predecessors. The people of Centauri Prime would likely regard it as a pleasant change of pace."
I laughed curtly at that. "It is a nice theory, G'Kar. But people do not want a change of pace, pleasant or otherwise. They want no more and no less than what they are accustomed to. Believe it or not, there are still those who believe Cartagia was the best emperor we ever had. That he barkened to a day when billions feared the Centauri because we were unpredictable. There are many who believe that I will indeed let you go, and they will eagerly use such a decision to undermine my authority ... to undermine me. As fond as I am of you, G'Kar, I consider your freedom too high a price to pay for a crisis of confidence that could cost me my throne ... and of greater significance,my life.
"But you know, G'Kar ... all of this is very much beside the point. We should ponder other matters. A new topic!" I announced, and I tapped my spoon repeatedly on my goblet as if I were addressing a crowded room of reverlers.
While we had talked, food had been laid out foor us, and it smelled excellent. I started to eat hungrily, having had very little over the course of the day. G'Kar, as always, ate little to nothing. It was completely beyond me how he managed to maintain the energy to function, considering the small quantities he consumed.
"What new topic would that be, Londo?" he inquired.
I allowed a moment to finish chewing my food. It would hardly have been dignified to send vegetables spewing out of my mouth like a multicolored fountain. "I think you should choose this time, G'Kar. I have done so the last few times, they have been stimulating chats, to be sure, but I think it time that you seize bull by the reins."
"The what?"
I waved dismissively. "An Earth saying. It is of no importance."
"No, that might be an interesting topic," G'Kar said. "Your fascination with all things pertaining to Earth. I have never quite understood it. You research them, you quote from them. Their achievements pale compared to those – laudable or otherwise – of the Centauri Republic. They are a relatively minor species. At least they started out that way.
"Yet the Centauri saw something in them. Some spark, some potential must have. If not for the Centauri, after all, the Humans would not have acquired the jumpgate technology. Or at the very least, they would have lagged far behind in acquiring it. It might have taken them decades, even centuries more, to become a true power in the galaxy."
Interest glittered in his one normal eye. "What was it about them, Londo? I have to admit, I didn't see it, nor did any of my people. What was the fascination?"
I chuckled. "It was a little before my time... a hundred years or so, you understand. So I cannot exactly tell you firsthand. But... I have been doing reading. Comments, letters, correspondence from the emperor and the ministers the time, that sort of thing."
"And what have you discovered?"
I leaned forward and gestured to G'Kar that he should do likewise, as if I was concerned that someone would overhear. He leaned closer.
"They thought," I said, "that the Humans would annihilate themselves."
"Really."
I nodded. "They saw the humans as a opportunity for quick profit. And they thought that the Humans, once they had acquired the advanced technology, would move to quickly for their own good. My predecessors anticipated that there would be struggles and wars within the then-primitive Earth Alliance. Centauri Prime would secretly fund both sides, benefit from all concerned and – once the humans had more or less obliterated themselves – the Great Centauri Republic would step in and pick the pieces. It was a simple way to expand our control with no risk to ourselves, and nothing but profit to be had. It seemed the perfect arrangement."
"But it did not work out that way."
"Not exactly. They didn't wind up destroying themselves. Instead they managed to hang on long enough to offend the Minbari, and wound up almost being wiped off the face of existence. We predicted a war, yes... but the wrong war. They tripped themselves up, as we thought they would, but what a foe to do it with!"
I laughed softly at the thought. "They wanted our help, you know. Wanted us to help them against the Minbari. If we had, the Minbari would have turned on us just as quickly. We knew we would not have had a chance against them. What would have been gained?"
"Did you not feel you owed it to them, as a race? If not for your giving them the technology,they would not have encountered the Minbari and gotten themselves embroiled in a war."
"Nonsense," I said firmly. "Responsibility only goes so far."
"Does it?"
He was watching me. I hated it when he watched me like that. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You do something to set events into motion, you owe something to those whom you have affected. You gave them the flame. They then burned themselves. you had a responsibility to try to tend to the wound..."
But I shook my head. "No. We gave them the match. It was they who chose to light the flame. It was purely their responsibility, wasn't it."
"Was it?"
"Bah!" I said in disgust. "We always get to this at some point or other. 'Yes, it is. No, it isn't.' No debate or discussion. Just rephrasing my question as another question. And then we go no further."