Peter David - Out of the Darkness

He waited until the room was empty, and then he turned and went into the adjoining chamber. Mariel was sitting there, looking very concerned, and when Durla entered she immediately stood. “What happened?” she asked breathlessly.

“The emperor,” Durla said evenly, “tried to attack me. In this instance, I did not have to hurt him. He was most fortunate. And it was your appearance, I think, that set him off. That was not appreciated, Mariel.”

“I did not know he was there, my lord Durla.” She bowed slightly. “My… hearing is not what it once was. I sustained an injury… in my clumsiness… that has reduced my hearing acuity. It is being treated, however, and a full recovery is expected.” The words were very carefully chosen and he knew it. He did not smile, merely nodded slightly. “For the duration, you will have to listen more closely,” he told her.

“Yes, my lord husband.” When she saw that he was heading out, she said, “Where are you going, my lord… if I may ask.” she added quickly.

“I am going to visit an old friend with whom I have had some disagreements,” Durla told her. He smiled. “I’m going to see if there’s not some way we can’t see eye to eye.”

“That’s very considerate, my lord.”

“Yes. It is,” he agreed. And just as the door closed behind him, Mariel let fly a spit of contempt. It landed on the door and ran noiselessly to the floor.

“Leave me,” Londo managed to say.

Dunseny looked at him uncertainly. They had brought him back to his inner sanctum and helped settle him into a leaning couch. The manservant had been fussing over him for some time now trying to make him comfortable and all the time wheedling him about having a physician brought in. Londo would not hear of it.

“Are you certain, Highness?” Dunseny asked solicitously. “Might it not be wiser to—”

“It might be wiser to do as I say,” Londo told them. “Now go.”

Seeing no other real options, Dunseny and the guards departed as they were instructed to do. Caso, the last one out, cast a glance over his shoulder in obvious worry. Then the door closed behind him.

“Well?” Londo asked, once everyone was gone. “What are you waiting for?”

The shadows moved, as he knew they would. In a moment, an all—too—familiar form was standing several feet away from him.

“How dare you,” Shiv’kala said.

“How dare I?” Londo seemed amused. “How dare I know you would be there? I am so sorry. Did I ruin your surprise? Your flair for the dramatic?”

“You know what Durla is to us. You know what we have invested in him. He is our future, Londo.” After his initial anger, Shiv’kala seemed relatively calm. “Not just ours… but yours as well.”

“Is that so?” Londo was about to say something more, but suddenly he was seized by a racking cough. Shiv’kala waited | patiently for the hacking to subside. I. “Yes, that is so. I must admit to you, Londo… I am some — what disappointed in you.”

“I shall try to hide my extreme dismay over letting you down.”

“I have spent many years with you now, Londo. I have explained to you the Drakh philosophies, the Drakh teaching. Tried to make you understand why we do what we do. Yet at every turn, you seem unwilling to embrace all we can do for you, bring to you…”

“You mean in the way Durla has.”

“We have approached Durla differently than we did you. But yes, he shares our vision.”

“He has the vision you implanted within him.”

“No,” Shiv’kala said, sounding almost sad. “Londo, how little you understand your own people. We have simply worked with that which already existed. We have unleashed the greatness that was within him, just as we have tried to do with you. Not just you, but your people as well. The Centauri Republic will be great, Londo—with you or without you.”

“I had been hoping it would be both.” Londo seemed rather amused by the comment.

Shiv’kala circled him. “Believe it or not, Londo, throughout the years, I have been your greatest ally. When others felt you simply were not worth the effort, I stood up for you. I spoke on your behalf. I argued that you could be brought around. That the time and effort being spent on you was not in vain. Then an incident such as this one occurs, and it leads me to wonder if the other Drakh were not correct.”

“Meaning that I have let you down, and so you will kill me for it?” He seemed to consider this. “I do not see the threat. Death holds fewer and fewer terrors for me with each passing day.”

“You say that now, when your life is not threatened,” Shiv’kala commented. “It is always simple to laugh in the face of death when it is not facing you. In time, you may change your mind. This much, however, is certain, Londo. You will never lay hands upon Durla again. You will not threaten him, nor assault him. Nor will you attempt to dispatch any agents or cat’s—paws to do likewise, because we will find out. And the pain that was inflicted upon you via the keeper today… will seem as nothing. If you do not trust my word in any other matter, I suggest you trust it in this: You will not survive.”

“No one ever survives,” Londo observed. “One just gets progressively worse opportunities to die.”

There was a respectful knock at the door. Londo glanced at Shiv’kala, but the Drakh had already blended in with the shadows of the room. “Come,” he called.

The door opened, and two members of the Prime Candidates entered. They carried between them a silver tray, covered with a cloth, which they placed on the table next to Londo. He looked at it with bleary curiosity. “Yes? What is it?”

“Compliments of Ministers Lione and Durla,” one of the boys said. Then they turned and departed while Londo leaned forward and looked with curiosity at the covered tray.

A bomb, possibly. Or some sort of trap. At that moment, however, Londo didn’t particularly care. He pulled off the cloth and gasped.

An eye was sitting on it, looking up at him.

Except it was no normal eye. It appeared to be solid, with a red tint to it…

“G’Kar,” Londo whispered. There was a note on the tray next to it. With hands trembling, he picked it up and read it.

“The noble Citizen G’Kar is being forced to send his regrets. He is feeling somewhat put out at the moment, and will not be able to join you for dinner in the foreseeable future. Instead he will be undergoing an intensive, rigorous ‘training program’ to make certain he remains in good shape. We trust our meaning has been made clear, and will not be forgotten.”

Londo started to stand, as if to go charging to G’Kar’s aid. “Where do you think you are going?” Shiv’kala asked calmly. That was not unusual. He was calm most of the time. Icy, like a frozen planet, and with about as much chance of displaying pity or mercy. “Certainly you are not considering helping your pet Narn, are you?” Londo pointed in fury at the eye. “This was your idea, I take it?”

“No, actually. We probably would have thought of it… but the truth is that Durla conceived of it all on his own. It will not go well for the Narn, I fear. But he will not die. Durla would not want that to happen, for if he dies, then he cannot be a source of ongoing torment for you.”

“Bastards!” Londo spat out, and he started for the door. Then the pain came again. Londo got only a few steps before it overwhelmed him, like an ocean wave batters a sand castle to bits. Londo staggered back and sank into the cushions.

“Some quiet time for you now, Londo, I think,” Shiv’kala told him, as if addressing an angry child. “A day or so to contemplate your actions, and why it would be most unwise to repeat those actions.”