A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 5 : Among the Stars, like Giants. Part 5 : The Three–Edged Sword addm-5 Read online

  Organising the underground haven had taken a lot of work. He had had to take a less active role in the Senate, but that had been no great loss. The less time he spent involved in politics, the more he realised how useless it all was. Mr. Edgars and his coalition ran almost everything, whether openly or not, and behind them, as always, were the Vorlons. s

  His gradual withdrawal from public life had not gone unnoticed. Humanity magazine had come up with several interesting rumours, including that he was planning to marry Captain Bethany Tikopai. As it happened, she was on near–permanent patrol duty at Babylon 5, so he hadn't seen her in weeks anyway. y

  He had had several nightmares about the Hand of the Light, of their horrible, rasping voices and their soul–less bodies. He hated them with a passion he had seldom felt for anything. If nothing else, he would do that. He would wipe them and their Masters out of existence. o

  "So, can this Box tell us who we're meant to be meeting?" he asked Talia. u

  "I don't think so," she said, still staring at the box. "It's not omniscient, although sometimes it seems close. You still think this is a trap, don't you?" w

  "The benefits of a paranoid upbringing." i

  Most of Talia's telepath allies were hidden around Sector 301, parcelled out in various businesses and projects. Bo had acquired a new barman who was, unfortunately, completely hopeless. Dexter had managed to place a couple of them on his research staff. A couple had joined 301 Security. l

  He found himself liking most of them, his 'brothers', as the Hand of the Light would call them. Some of Talia's telepaths were a little stand–offish and introverted, but most were just.... normal people. Chen, the new barman at Bo's, was nice enough, and not a bad poker player, while his girlfriend Lauren smiled a lot and had an opinion on almost everything. l

  He hated the thought of any of them being turned into one of those monstrosities, or fed into a Dark Star, or worse.... o

  It had been Chen and Lauren who had brought them the invitation. A strange man had approached Chen, and spoken telepathically while placing an order for drinks. He had asked for their leaders to come to a specified place at a specified time, and he had known altogether too much for comfort. He was not one of the Hand of the Light, that was sure. b

  Dexter thought it was a trap. Talia pointed out that the Hand of the Light knew where he was, and could just scoop both of them up if they wanted to. Dexter had, in the end, reluctantly given way and come with Talia to this meeting place, but they had brought the box. e

  "Insurance," she had called it. y

  And so they waited. They had grown comfortable with silence over the past three months. Their relationship had never regained the passion of that first night, but they had definitely moved beyond simple friendship. Dexter was still not sure of his feelings for her, but while her Al was still alive, or until there was solid news of his death, he was content to wait. They flirted, and occasionally kissed, and they worked together for a greater goal. u

  "Greetings," said a voice, and Dexter started. A man was standing before them, tall and.... somewhat innocuous–looking. He matched the admittedly vague description Chen and Lauren had provided, but.... "Senator Dexter Smith, and Miss Talia Winters, she of many names." s

  "Usually 'She Who Must be Obeyed'," Dexter observed. "I think you have the advantage of us. For one thing, you got past our sentries without any of them giving a word of warning, and secondly, you know far too much. So who are you?" y

  The man smiled. "Me? Nothing but an emissary, or rather a voice." He pulled off his coat and laid it on a chair. o

  Talia started. "I thought you were a myth," she breathed. "Or long dead." u

  "We prefer to have it thought that we are," the man replied. "But we are very real. We are observers, recorders of history - rarely actors within it, but occasionally it is time to act. We have been asked to lend you our assistance." w

  "And who is 'we'?" Dexter asked. i

  "We.... are the Vindrizi." l

  Dexter looked at him, and then at Talia. Her eyes were still wide with disbelief. l

  "The who?" he said. o

  beyus

  * * *

  On their way home.... y

  "I thought.... I really didn't think this would ever happen again, not to anyone...." o

  "Least of all like this. Do you know what I mean, now?" u

  "Yes.... no.... I don't know. It was supposed to be something beautiful, something safe. The Alliance was meant to protect people. Whatever the Narn Government was doing, whatever they have done.... the people didn't deserve this.... the innocent.... the...." w

  "Do we know anyone who survived? G'Kar?" i

  "Oh, God. Delenn said something.... He was on Narn, I think. Oh God, I hope he got away." l

  "Would he really have left if it meant taking up a place someone else could have used?" l

  "No, of course he wouldn't." o

  "You see, John, there's a darkness at the heart of the Alliance, a cancer even. I was too afraid to confront it before. Now.... I'm still afraid, to be honest. Who wouldn't be?" b

  "But what can we do? Do you want another war? I don't. I'm sick of fighting. That's all I've ever known, and that war cost me my wife, my friends, my daughter, my son, my father, my home.... Do you want to go through all that again? Because I don't." e

  "'We.... in this generation are by destiny rather than choice, the watchmen on the walls of the world's freedom.'" y

  "David, I can't think, and I'm too tired for word games." u

  "You told me that. You gave a speech the night after Mars, the night we fled our solar system for the last time." s

  "I remember now. I was quoting President Kennedy." y

  "We do what we must. We do what we have to do. That's me quoting you. I don't want a war either, but my eyes have opened a little. What good is peace if it's the peace of quiet and darkness and terror? What's to stop the Vorlons doing it again to somewhere else?" o

  "If there's another way...." u

  "And if there isn't?" w

  The tall, dark–eyed Minbari woman turned to look at them. "You are dreamers," she spat, in harshly–accented English. "You are fools. There will be war." i

  "You sound just like Sinoval." l

  "Never mention that name to me again!" l

  She turned back, resuming her grim pacing up and down. o

  "I wonder if there's even any point to this now. I was going to speak to Delenn, but.... what good is it even to try? Why bother trying to build when something big and all–powerful can just reach out and bring it all crashing down?" b

  "That's the only reason to build anything. If we hold back because we're afraid it might go wrong, we'll never do anything." e

  "Well, you would know." y

  "Hey! I've been scared ever since the last war ended, and I'm more tired of fear than I am of war. I don't want to fight, but I will if I have to. It's better to light a candle than to sit and curse the darkness." u

  "Enough with the quotations. I don't know. I just.... s

  ".... don't know...." y

  ouwillobeyus

  * * *

  Somewhere in this galaxy a world died screaming, a reservoir for so many memories. Every rock, every leaf, every blade of grass had a memory, and all were now gone forever. y

  Susan Ivanova folded her arms angrily as she watched Sinoval walk through the dead place that had, according to her hosts, once been a city. Now it was a silent, black jungle of houses and streets and towers. The Tuchanq were an elegant race, who had built with slender, fragile beauty. Their buildings were slight, and the few that still stood looked ready to collapse in the faintest breeze, but somehow they had endured, their fragility concealing enormous strength. o

  Until the Narns had bombarded their world from orbit and made slaves of their people. u

  And now the Narns themselves knew fear, knew what it meant to lose their home. w

  But they had known that before, hadn't they? They had been enslaved and tortur
ed by the Centauri. i

  Christ, circles everywhere. What becomes of us? Do we all end up becoming our parents? Do we fight monsters for so long that we end up becoming them? l

  She closed her eyes to fight back the tears. She was briefly ashamed of crying, but at least it showed she was still human. At least it showed she cared. At least she could cry for the dead. Which was more than Sinoval was doing. l

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, blinking. He was kneeling, holding a piece of metal in his hand. She was not sure what it was, and judging from the expression on his face, neither was he. He suddenly dropped it and continued his walk, moving in slow, careful, precise circles. o

  Did he not even care? All those deaths and.... No, what could he care about death? Did he even know how to cry? Did he even know what it meant? He probably thought of it all as a great journey or something, some nice, philosophical way to get around the fact that billions of people had just been murdered. She tried to imagine that many people, and could not. One person, two, five, ten, a hundred, yes, easily. A thousand, yes. But billions? The mind had no comprehension of it. b

  His probably did. e

  She wondered why she even bothered. Her task had been to make sure he understood the stakes he was fighting for. He was meant to be fighting to protect the innocent, not just to wage some personal and private war. He should be getting angry, he should be raging and screaming and.... y

  .... hating? u

  She had tried to prevent him from hating them, but how could she when she hated them so much herself? s

  She lowered her head, still crying. Lorien, she called out. I can't make sense of this. y

  Sometimes she wished she was back there again, in that warm, black womb where they had spent a year together, undoing and healing all her wounds. The scars on her flesh did not matter, but she thought all the scars on her soul had been healed. o

  Nothing of value ever comes easily, came his infinitely wise voice. She hated him as well. Sanctimonious little.... What could he know? Had he seen his home die in fire? Hell, Sinoval and he were probably used to this. u

  Go away, she sighed. She wished there was someone she could talk to, someone who could understand. David's memory opened up inside her heart like a knife wound, and she found herself wishing he were here. They had spent so many nights together, talking and crying and commiserating and dreaming. That had been before her first trip to Z'ha'dum, before she had been broken down and re–made the first time around. w

  She hated the quiet. It just gave her more time to think about what she was. She did not know any more. She remembered all those whom she had used without success to try to fill the void in her heart, all those who had left her. i

  She looked up. There was someone who would never die. That was his curse. Immortality. She would be with him until the end of the universe, and perhaps beyond. She would not be able to look at anyone else without realising how near to death they all were. l

  That was her curse. l

  He walked back to her side, completing his circle. nuViel Roon and a few others were there as well. It was taking all the resources the Tuchanq could muster to hold back the rising tide of madmen. There were so many insane, and as nuViel Roon had sadly remarked, they grew exponentially, spreading insanity with each contact. It had taken noMir Ru only a handful of years to conquer the entire planet. o

  "I am ready," Sinoval said. b

  nuViel Roon bowed her head. "We await you, Saviour." e

  Sinoval looked at Susan. She had to turn her head to avoid his gaze. The last thing she wanted now was to lock eyes with that dark infinity. She did not even want to look at him. y

  Then he turned away and walked to the centre of the circle. He threw his arms wide and, looking wholly out of place in this time - like a prophet of doom, or a messiah, or an ancient king - Sinoval, Primarch Majestus et Conclavus, began to sing. u

  s

  * * *

  The shard of the necklace was both warm and cold in her hand; warm with memories of love and happiness and cold with the realisation of present grief. Kats wore it always, but the comfort it provided was never consistent. y

  Tirivail was still pacing up and down. David and General Sheridan were talking quietly. Tirivail suddenly stopped to look at Kats. o

  "There will be war," she said flatly. "Do you think it can be avoided?" u

  Kats gripped the necklace more tightly. "I hope so," she breathed. "But.... I do not know. I do not want a war." w

  "I do. It is what I live for." i

  "Have you not had enough of war?" l

  "Never. I am still alive." l

  Kats sighed. There was no way to reason with her, and she did not see why she should. Tirivail was a warrior, and however much time she spent with warriors she would never be able to adjust her philosophy to theirs. It could take generations to build a work of great beauty, and only moments to destroy it. o

  When she was younger, that was all she had thought warriors to be: destroyers. That belief had been changed by her experiences. She had seen the compassion and courage and infinite gentleness in the eyes of some warriors. They were like everyone else: each one different. b

  Kozorr had tried to explain it to her more than once, and she had started to see. There was an ancient code, from simpler days, one of honour and nobility and a tight bond between warriors. Trust was a necessity, to place your life and your honour and your fane so completely in the hands of another and know that they were doing the same to you. e

  Kats had tried to imagine that, in the warm days on the balcony of their home looking out over Yedor, resting against him. Could she trust anyone that much? Could she place so much trust in one person knowing they were doing the same to her? y

  Then she had wrapped her arms around him and understood the answer. u

  As she looked up at Tirivail, she realised she had found another person to trust like that. Tirivail was difficult and awkward and fiery, but she was a friend. s

  It was hard to hate someone who loved the same person as you. y

  Kats rose from her seat and walked over to her friend, taking her hand. Tirivail jumped back. o

  "Sit," Kats said. "And tell me what you fear." u

  "I fear nothing!" Tirivail said, a little too defensively, but she did not protest as Kats sat down, and joined her a moment later. "There will be war," she said again. Kats nodded. "I am scared," she whispered. "No, I am a warrior. I do not know fear." w

  "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of." i

  "It is not shame! Do you know nothing of our ways? I am not afraid because I might die. I am afraid because I do not have a cause to die for. I do not want everything to end in quiet and silence. What is there for me to die for? I do not have a lord, I do not...." She reached out with surprising gentleness and touched Kats' necklace. "I would have died for him. I would have died for Sonovar. I might even have died for Sinoval. l

  "But they all abandoned me. Where am I? Whom do I serve? For what cause do I fight? My father has made it very clear that I will never be worthy in his eyes. I do not want to die for no reason." l

  "You can fight for your people, for your home.... for me. You are my friend, Tirivail." o

  The warrior turned her head away. "At least he loved you," she whispered. b

  "Maybe you will not have to die after all." e

  "You know nothing." y

  "Maybe." Kats took her hand again. "And he did care for you. He admired you greatly." u

  "But he did not love me." s

  "No." y

  "No." o

  Babylon 5 grew nearer. u

  willobeyus

  * * *

  "I don't care what he says, I've never heard of them." y

  "Dex, dear...." o

  "What?" u

  Talia leaned in and kissed him once, gently, on the cheek. "Never mind. A bit of healthy paranoia is.... well, healthy." w

  They were gathered in one of the safe houses, one of many abandoned buildings scattered
throughout Sector 301. Talia had sent out a call in their dreams that night, and slowly, one by one, they had arrived. She had insisted on bringing the Box, and the Vindrizi. i

  She had tried to explain to him who the Vindrizi were, but her explanations had been a little.... well, vague. An ancient race of parasites created to observe events and, just.... remember them. They possessed living beings and saw through their eyes, using their senses. And they'd existed all this time without anyone noticing. Five hundred millennia was the time–span Talia had mentioned. l

  But when he tried asking sensible questions like who had created them and why and where were they now, did he get any answers? Yeah, right! l

  He leaned back, looking at the telepaths gathered in a circle around them, acutely aware of just how unalike them he was. They were.... different. Whatever powers or talents he had - or others claimed he had - he still thought of himself as human. These were not. Even Talia. She could do things he could not even dream about. o

  At heart, all he was was a poor poker player and a failed soldier. And the man who had murdered the saviour of mankind. b

  The Vindrizi was there as well. Whatever his human name had been he was not inclined to say. e

  "Are they all here?" he asked. y

  "Everyone who's going to be here," Talia replied. u

  Dexter looked around. This place should be safe enough. There were enough members of Sector 301 Security outside maintaining irregular patrols that were just a little bit more regular than usual. And everyone here would be aware of any Hand of the Light who came within a mile of the place, but.... s

  The Vindrizi stepped up, and looked around at the circle of telepaths. y

  "You do not know me," he said. His voice was strange, with emphases on the wrong words, the wrong sounds, as if he were having to concentrate to sound human. "My name does not matter. We are ancient, my people. We were created to be observers and recorders of the images of the galaxy. o

  "We are called the Vindrizi. We are sworn to peace and neutrality. We take no part in the wars of mortals, younger race or First One. But we will defend ourselves. We have debated amongst ourselves, and a path has been chosen. There is a war, and we will fight. u