John Vornholt - Voices

Garibaldi glanced at Ivanova, but the commander’s lips were clamped tight. He knew that she had decided to withhold comment about Psi Corps for the moment.

He gingerly held up his finger. “Sir, it’s just that, in the short time we’ve been open, Psi Corps has shown unusual interest in us.”

“Nonsense,” snapped Sheridan. “Psi Corps shows unusual interest in everybody. But what are we going to do about it? Make them mad, so they show even more interest? The next time the Senate considers our appropriations, it would be very nice to have Psi Corps in our corner. Besides, all telepaths are not cut from the same cloth as Bester. Our own Ms. Winters is highly respected, and so are hundreds of other private telepaths. And, Chief, unless you lied in your report, Harriman Gray saved your life.”

“Yes, he did,” admitted Garibaldi. He appealed to Ivanova. “Are you going to say anything here, or do you want Bester and four hundred of his friends to show up tomorrow?”

The second-in-command sat up in her chair. “Captain,” she began, “if I may speak freely.”

Sheridan sighed. “Mr. Garibaldi has no problem speaking freely, so why should you?”

“I have a revulsion to Psi Corps,” she declared. “It’s personal. I have never let this interfere with my duty, except for the fact that I will not submit to a scan, for any reason. I’m sure this will hamper my career advancement at some point, but I will not let it interfere with my duty.”

Ivanova took a deep breath and concluded, “I will get all of their ships in safely and assist in the Psi Corps conference however I can. I will do my best to put the station in a good light. However, if one of those buggers tries to scan me, I will rip his lungs out.”

Garibaldi nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and it’ll take five guys to pull her off. And another five guys to arrest her, then all those doctors in medlab. Do we really want to risk it, sir?”

Sheridan rubbed his eyes. “I have sympathy for your feelings, but they can’t stand in the way of this opportunity. Therefore, Commander, you will be restricted to quarters during the duration of the conference, except for your normal hours of duty. In fact, Commander, you are under orders not to talk to the attendees. If they don’t like that, you can talk to them just long enough to tell them to come see me.”

“Uh, sir,” asked Garibaldi hopefully, “could we arrange it so that I don’t have to talk to them either?”

“I’m afraid not, Chief. They’re going to be paranoid about security, especially after this Mars thing. To put it bluntly, it’s going to be a nightmare for you. I could requisition some outside security to help you, but I don’t want to risk it. We don’t know who they might send.”

“No, that’s okay,” said Garibaldi, his shoulders drooping. “Hundreds of paranoid Psi Cops, just what I always wanted. I don’t suppose there’s any way you could be talked out of hosting this shindig?”

“Well,” said the captain, “if you had offered reasoned arguments against it, I might have listened. If your only objection is that you hate Psi Corps, that’s not unusual enough.”

Sheridan tapped the link on the table console. “Captain Sheridan to Ms. Talia Winters.”

“Captain!” said her startled voice a moment later. “I was just about to call you! Did you hear about the conference? Isn’t it wonderful!”

The captain surveyed the long faces of Ivanova and Garibaldi. “Oh, yes, we’re jumping up and down here. You are supposed to make an official request, I believe, on behalf of Psi Corps.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved to hear you say you will accept! I had the silly notion there might be some problem.”

“Of course not,” said Sheridan magnanimously. “We’re down in the briefing room now, and perhaps you’d like to join us and get the ball rolling. Oh, Mr. Garibaldi wonders how many of the attendees will be actual Psi Cops, like Mr. Bester.”

“About a hundred or so.”

Garibaldi buried his head in his hands.

“The theme is commercial applications,” Talia added. “I’ll be right down to tell you all about it!”

“I look forward to it,” answered Sheridan. “Out.”

The captain looked grim as his gaze traveled from Ivanova to Garibaldi. “An advance team from Psi Corps is already on its way to help coordinate, and the rest will follow in the next day or two. Listen, people, for the next six days, you love Psi Corps. And your mission in life is to make sure they have the best conference they ever had. Do you understand?”

Garibaldi and Ivanova just looked at each other and sighed. “Yes, sir,” they muttered.

“Well,” said Garibaldi, leaning over a stack of diagrams, “we’ve got the Blue recreation room. You can have that. Unless our work crews fall asleep, a couple of Blue meeting rooms will be ready. The cafe in Blue Sector is under private contract, but the proprietor says he’ll have it open in time for the reception.”

“We’ll want to run a security check on the proprietor,” said Talia Winters. “And we’ll need more than a couple of meeting rooms. The idea of this conference is to break off into smaller discussion groups. Intimate gatherings.”

Garibaldi cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll bet.”

Talia pursed her lips, but she let it pass. “What about the meeting rooms on Red and Yellow?”

The security chief scowled. “I’m trying to keep all of your people in the Blue Sector, and pretty much seal it off. For their own safety.”

Talia smiled even while she shook her head. “No way, Mr. Garibaldi. These people don’t like to be told that certain places are off limits. No place is off limits for them.”

“Wait a minute,” he protested, “I can’t give them complete run of the station! You don’t want them Down Below, do you? With that element. Or in the Alien Sector. What if they meet up with the carrion-eaters? I can’t protect them on every square centimeter of every cargo bay of B5.”

“I think you will find, Mr. Garibaldi, that most telepaths are capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, most of them have never been to Babylon 5. They’ll be disappointed if they don’t receive the full experience.”

“Is that so,” grumbled Garibaldi. “You know, Ms. Winters, we’ve had our share of murders and disappearances here, and a couple of the other Babylon stations were blown to bits. The full B5 experience is not what I really want them to have. I want them to have a safe, boring experience. I want them to go back to their slimepits and say, ‘Gosh, that B5 was the most boring place I’ve ever been. There is certainly no reason to go back there again.”

Talia’s icy-blue eyes burned into him. “This is only our first day of planning, Mr. Garibaldi, and I will not allow you to start insulting the Corps. If we have a problem we can’t resolve, I suggest we get Captain Sheridan to arbitrate it.”

“I’m doing exactly what the captain wants,” the chief countered. “He wants us to look like grown-ups, no more Wild Frontier stuff. He wants B5 to look like a proper place to hold a high-level tкte-а-tкte, and I don’t blame him. The more money we can bring in by ourselves means the less we have to rely on our allies and the Senate.”

Now Garibaldi looked into Talia’s eyes, something he did not mind doing whatsoever. “Look, Talia, B5 is not a swank resort, and that was their first choice. Security is going to be stretched like we’ve never been stretched before, just dealing with the arrivals. We haven’t had time to get the word out, so all of our regular traffic will be piling up at the docks. I’m not saying we can’t do it, but have a heart!”

“All right,” conceded Talia, “we will label certain areas, such as Down Below, cargo bays, and the Alien Sector as ‘Travel at Your Own Risk.’ In the handouts, we’ll advise the attendees not to go there. Satisfied?”