Peter David - Out of the Darkness

“Must… stop him…”

“You cannot,” Shiv’kala said. “You cannot stop any of this. It has gone too far. Within days now, the fleet will be launched. Durla will see to it. He has prepared for it extremely well. And you cannot—will not—do anything to stop it, Londo. Otherwise I will make certain that Durla does indeed go too far in his… what was the phrase… ‘training program’ for G’Kar. And that will be the least of the recriminations that await you… all in retaliation for anything you might try to do, none of which could hope to succeed.

“The only thing you will succeed in doing is injuring yourself… and others. G’Kar, Senna, even that absurd Vir Cotto, for whom you continue to have foolish affection. All of them will know the punishments attendant in your failed attempts to stop the unstoppable. “Have we made ourselves clear, Londo?”

“Painfully so, yes.” He managed to nod his head.

“As I told you, Londo… believe it or not, we have been merciful until now. Do not, at any time, mistake mercy for weakness We are not weak. We are Drakh. We are of the Shadows. Is that also clear, Londo?”

This time he didn’t even bother to speak. He just nodded.

“I am pleased we had this opportunity to chat, Londo.”

And then, rather unexpectedly, Londo managed to get out “The boy… the Sheridan boy…”

“What about him?” If the Drakh had had an eyebrow, he would have cocked it in curiosity.

“Bringing him here… is insanity. Crossing his father, crossing Delenn… the Earth fleet, the Minbari fleet will be brought down upon us. Even you cannot possibly think that we can withstand such an assault. The Minbari fleet alone coukl level this world.”

“Very likely. But such an action would only result in the boy’s death, and Sheridan and Delenn will not risk that. They will come here, alone and unattended. We know this for a certainty. And when they come here, you, Londo, will oversee their execution.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that they are responsible for sending tin Shadows away. They will pay for that with their lives.”

“And the boy?”

“We have plans for the boy. With his parents gone, he will ‘escape,’ and live to serve our interests.”

“Your interests?” Then he laughed bitterly. “Oh. Of course. The keeper.”

“In the vase that you left, yes. Had you forgotten about that?”

“I tried to. Unfortunately, I seem to remember all the things I would rather forget, and forget that which I really should remember. When I brought the keeper in the urn… I hoped… ii was for the purpose of spying. That was all. Influencing his father and mother on Minbar, perhaps. I never thought that this…”

The Drakh leaned in close to him. “Never forget,” he said, “who is in charge. It will go badly for you if you do.” And with that, he left Londo sitting alone in his room—in a pain—filled silence enforced by the keeper—trying to determine just how things could possibly go more badly than they already were.

I had to call her.

I sat here, stewing for days, thinking about what I had seen… thinking about what that bastard Durla had done to Mariel, even knowing my protection extended to her after her return to the Palace. And I kept thinking to myself, At least your hands are clean. For all your crimes, for all that can be laid at your feet… at least you have never treated a woman in such a manner.

And then I thought about that some more, really thought.

I thought of Adira… my beautiful Adira. The dancer who elevated my past, haunted my present, and would never be a part of my future. When she died, I took certain… steps… which drove me down the dark road I currently tread.

I thought of Mariel, an appendage to that man, that monstrosity of a man. If I had never divorced her, she would not be in this position. I know, I know… to ensure tier own future, she tried to kill me. But in a way… should I be entirely surprised? She observed the men in the society in which she was raised. My gender taught her the lessons to which she subscribed. If she was raised to be devious, to hold little regard for life… who am I now to condemn her? One who has led a stainless life myself? If I were not subject to coughing fits, I would laugh heartily at that.

I thought of Daggair, another wife of mine… eh. Well… I did not think of her too much. There is only so much guilt even I will feel.

And then there is Timov. Timov, whom I shunted away, for her own good. Making her believe that I do not, did not ever, truly love her. The thing is, she was a woman of boundless integrity and sharp wit. Had we ever truly been a team—Great Maker, the things we could have accomplished.

I felt the need to say this to her. To make her realize that I did truly value her. And—I have to admit it—to cleanse my own guilt, for in my own way I had abused her just as thoroughly as Durla had done Mariel. Abused her trust, abused her affection. I owed it to her, somehow, to make reparations for this.

Foolish. Foolish old man.

When my—small associate—freed me after a time of enforced “meditation,” I resolved that I had delayed long enough. Too long, in fact. Years too long. I knew that she no longer resided on Centauri Prime but instead had relocated to one of the outlying worlds. It was not difficult for me to establish a real—time link with her. A woman whom I recognized as a longtime retainer to Timov answered my communique and looked most surprised indeed to see that she was being contacted by the emperor himself. She told me that her mistress would be right there.

Long minutes passed. I surmised that Timov was making me wait out of spite.

I was wrong.

When a wan and drawn woman appeared on the screen, for a moment I did not recognize her. There was none of the fiery robustness I had come to associate with the razor-sharp spitfire called Timov, but then I realized that yes, indeed, it was she.

She sat there, staring at me. Not saying a word. The only part of her that seemed to be truly alive was her eyes, and those blazed with the fire of inner vision.

“Timov,” I said, surprised at the huskiness of my voice. I started to say, “You are looking well,” but nothing could have been further from the truth, and we both knew it. So instead I cleared my throat and started to say her name again.

She cut me off curtly. “It’s true. Are you satisfied? Obviously you’re calling to see for yourself if whatever you’ve heard is correct. So… you’re seeing. Good enough?”

“I have heard nothing,” I said quite honestly. It may have been the most honest thing I’d said to her in years… if not ever.

“You haven’t heard that I’m dying,” she said with such contempt in her tone that it was clear she didn’t believe it for a moment.

I have never taken quite as long to say a single, onesyllable word as I did at that moment. “No,” I finally managed to get out.

“Mm-hmm.” Still she did not believe. I could not blame her. “All right, then. Why, after all this time, have you called?”

“I…”

Everything I wanted to say to her flooded through my mind.

But nothing came out.

She scowled in that way she had. “Londo… you chased me off Centauri Prime. You have treated me with disrespect that you would not show to your greatest enemy. You have exhibited contempt for me, you have—”

“I know, I know. I have done all these things. I know.”

“I am the empress and have been dealt with as if I were the lowliest of slaves. And now, after all this time, what could you possibly have to say?”