Out of the Darkness (38 page)

Delenn and Sheridan moved instantly to their son's side. Delenn was running her fingers over the area where the keeper had been, shaking her head in wonderment.

"Lemme guess," David said, in a voice that was hoarse and croaking. "Uncle Mikey?"

"I suspect so," Sheridan told him. "He volunteered to go on 'stakeout,' as he called it, on Centauri Prime. Something tells me he hit pay dirt far more quickly than we could have hoped."

"Oh, David," Delenn said, stroking his face repeatedly as if unable to believe it was him.

"It's okay, Ma ... really. I just ... I'd like to know one thing..."

"Anything, son. Just name it," Sheridan said. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Can I have that second piece of birthday cake now?"

Sheridan and Delenn looked at each other, then burst into joyous laughter, holding their son tight.

"More than that, David," Sheridan said fiercely. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that hiding you here can't protect you from the galaxy. So we might as well go out there and take it on. When you recover, I'm taking a break from the presidency ... Michael goes on vacation from his business ... and Michael and I are going to take you on a tour of known space. Hitch some rides, grab some freighters, go down and dirty – the real worm's-eye view. Just us guys."

"Really?" David looked in amazement at Delenn. "Mom ... that's ... that's okay with you? You won't feel left out or–"

She laughed. "Someone has to run things while your father and godfather are gallivanting about in the throes of their second childhood."

He embraced both of them, and as he did, Delenn breathed silent prayers of thanks to Vir, to Garibaldi, to Valen, to Lorien. To whoever and whatever beings, real, spiritual, or imagined, had given her back her son. She would never again bewail the dwindling amount of time she had left with her husband, because at least they would all be able to enjoy it.

EXCERPTED FROM
THE CHRONICLES OF VIR COTTO.

Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date)
January 21,2278.

"So ... Vir... well done," Londo's voice growled in my ear. "Look where you've come, eh? Who would have thought?"

We sat drinking together on a beach, the wave washing up along the shore. The sun shone down upon us, bathing me in a pleasant warmth. I had read in his final memoirs how he would have given anything to walk upon a beach for a brief time... and here it appeared he was going to have an eternity of time to do so. He looked just as I remembered him when we first met. I never realized how young he was. Great Maker, how young we all were.

"Who would have thought," I echoed.

"Look at you. Remember the days when you would get drunk on one glass alone?" He chortled at the thought. "I'll be honest with you, Vir. When you first came to Babylon 5, I gave you three months. Six months at the outside. I didn't think you'd last. Who could know that you would last... and I wouldn't?"

"You lasted a good long time, Londo," I assured him. "You had a good run."

"Did I?" He laughed softly. "I suppose I did. A low-level ambassador assigned to a space station that was considered a joke. They called it 'Sinclair's Folly,' you know. It wasn't exactly a stepping-stone to greatness. It was considered more a dead end. Who knew that it would lead to the throne."

"It didn't lead there, Londo. The path was very crooked, and you cut it yourself."

"I was led," Londo said firmly. "The Shadows and their agents, and their agents' agents, led me. But make no mistake. I'm not tossing aside responsibility. It was I who walked that path, and walked it willingly. Perhaps... perhaps at the end, that was what mattered. I took that final responsibility... and preserved a future that didn't include me. Does that make sense?"

"I suppose it does." I looked around. "Too bad G'Kar couldn't join us."

"He had another engagement in NaToth's dream. Even he can't be everywhere. On the other hand, there are always unwelcome visitors. Hold on a moment, please..."

Suddenly there was a sword in his hand. I flinched automatically, but he turned away from me and, in one smooth motion, threw the blade with unerring accuracy. It thudded into a grove of bushes nearby. There was a grunt, and then the impaled body of a Drakh fell from darkness into the red-tinted sunlight that was just filtering through from the sun on the horizon. The moment the rays struck it, it evaporated into dust.

"If he had been expecting that," Londo said mildly, "he could have stopped it. That's what you always have to do with forces of darkness, Vir. You have to catch them by surprise. Emissaries of evil tend to think very far, and very deep, but not very fast. Are you writing this down, Vir? That was a good one. You should remember that."

"I will."

"And never stop watching the shadows. You never know."

"But the Drakh are gone from Centauri Prime, Londo. In full retreat. Our people are safe, they–"

"Vir," he said patiently. "You started out as an aide to a low-level ambassador and you wound up emperor. What does that say to you?"

"You never know."

"Exactly."

"I'll watch the shadows, Londo, just in case they decide to watch me back."

"That is good. That is very good." He took a deep, final drink. "I think, Vir, it is time for deep, thoughtful, and profound words of wisdom that will explain the entire purpose of the universe and guarantee a life of accomplishment and prosperity."

"And they would be...?"

Londo rose and walked across the sands. Standing there was Adira, smiling, her arms open to meet him.

Then I heard a steady, measured tread, a "splish splish." And there came Timov... walking across the surface of the water. "Londo!" she called sternly with a smile. "It's getting late."

Londo saw her, rolled his eyes, and, inclining his head, said, "She always has to show off."

She stepped out of the surf and they regarded me warmly, although Timov was watching Londo with the patient air of someone who had evaluated all of Londo's flaws and simply decided to find them charming.

"The words of wisdom, Londo?" I prompted.

"Oh, yes. Of course." And in a booming voice, Londo said, "Make love as often as possible." And with that, Londo and his women, one of passion, one of conscience, walked away, leaving no prints on the sand. His deep laughter echoed down the palace halls and carried me into wakefulness.

The sunlight of the new morning beamed through the window at me. I glanced at the corners of the room, but the light was thorough and revealed nothing of any threat hiding there.

I shrugged on my robe and left my quarters to find Senna and heed Londo's advice. I think he would have wanted it that way.