Peter David - Out of the Darkness

The split troops of the Drakh were cut off from one another. In what could only be considered the height of irony, they were lost in the dark.

And then there was much screaming. Amazingly, little of it involved Centauri voices.

Mariel watched in amazement from the balcony. She had heard the explosions, the same as everyone else. She gaped in astonishment, watched the Tower of Power disintegrate. She saw distant, non—Centauri bodies falling through the air in assorted bits and pieces. Something smacked against the wall just to her left. It was a single small piece of grey flesh. She stared at it in wonderment as it hung there.

And then she heard the voice—that magnificent voice, that powerful voice—and the image, like a vision from the Great Maker himself. Vir—her Vir—speaking to the people of Centauri Prime, telling them what was happening, stepping forward into the position of leadership that she had always known he rightly deserved.

Then she saw the dark ship descending, and terror descended upon her, as well. Instinctively she knew who and what they were, and what they intended for Vir. She saw them stream down into the blast point.

There was no way to help Vir. Nothing she could do.

Then she realized that there was. She ran quickly into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, dropped to her knees.

“Please, Great Maker,” she whispered, “I will give anything, do anything, sacrifice anything, but please let Vir be all right. Save him. And save Londo. I tried to do him ill and, in so doing, upset Vir, and I repent of that. I repent of it all, please…”

That, and similar sentiments were all she voiced for some minutes, until she heard shouting from the main room. First and foremost came Durla’s voice, and then she heard others, as well. She heard the voices of Castig Lione, and Kuto, and there was Vallko, and Munphis, the minister of education. They were all talking at once, and it was difficult to make them out, until Durla shouted them down.

“This cannot be!” he bellowed. “It is a trick! A hideous trick!”

“You saw!” Lione shouted back. “We all saw! The Drakh. Great Maker, Durla, the Drakh!”

“You will address me as prime minister!”

“How can it be a trick?” It was Vallko, and he sounded like a broken man, someone whose faith had been shattered. “We saw… that ship, the Drakh, here in the heart of the city…”

“A trick, I tell you, put together by Cotto!”

“Prime Minister, it makes no sense!“That was Kuto speaking. “We saw them! We saw the Drakh attack! Drakh bodies falling from the Tower, Drakh warriors from the skies… it’s…”

“Face it, Prime Minister… you’ve been used. We all have,” Lione said.

Durla’s voice was trembling with fury. “You will not stand there and tell me that my vision for Centauri Prime was something manufactured by an alien race!”

“Great Maker take your visions!” Lione snapped. “I’m telling you, we’ve been used!” There were mutters of agreement.

“I have trouble believing that you are my cabinet. My ministers, those I trusted.” Durla’s voice sounded like a mixture of disgust and sorrow. “That you would turn on me now, at our moment of greatest triumph…”

“Triumph! A war on the entire Alliance that was planned by a race who were servants of the Shadows!” That was the normally reticent Munphis speaking up. “Who knows what their long—term plans are! It could very well be that they’re looking to us to smash the Alliance for them… and they, in turn, will conquer us!”

“We are Centauri Prime! We will never be conquered again! And I will not allow the trickery of the ‘Legions of Fire,’ and Cotto, and these imaginary Drakh to dissuade me from my course! I have planned this for far too long, done too much, to let it end here and now!”

She heard footsteps then, quick movements. “Durla, what are you doing?” It was Vallko’s voice. He sounded as if he was starting to come out of his shock.

“This is my backup transmitter. We had to shut down the world web to take Cotto’s rants off—line, but this will still get me directly to the ships. The attack will go on as planned.”

“You’re insane! We can’t! We have to wait, to get this sorted out—”

“That’s what they want us to do, Lione! Wait! Because time is on the side of the Alliance! Cotto has convinced them, just as he has you, that we are the tools of a malevolent race! They will erect defenses against us! Be ready for us!” There was a tone of mounting desperation. “Besides, if the gocodes are not given within the next seventy—two hours, the fleet will stand down! They will think that something is wrong—”

“Something is wrong!” Vallko was getting more strident. “It may well be that nothing is what it has seemed! I have spent years, Durla, telling the people that the future of the Centauri people is in our own hands. We have seen evidence today that that may not be the case!”

“And how much of that did you know, eh?” Lione demanded. Their voices were moving around, making it clear that they were circling each other. “Why did you instruct that the upper floors of the Tower remain off limits? ‘Reserved for future expansion.’ You knew, didn’t you. You knew that our symbol of destiny was… infested with those creatures!”

“I knew no such thing! It was part of my vision, I tell you—”

“A vision given you by the Drakh! Open your eyes and see the truth, Durla!” Lione shouted. “You’ve been used! Your power stems, not from any divine vision, but from notions planted in your skull by the Drakh! It’s the only answer!”

And suddenly there was a deathly quiet. When Durla spoke again, it was with a soft and frightening conviction. “There is,” he said, “another answer.”

“Durla, put that down,” Kuto said warningly, although Mariel had no idea what he was referring to.

“And that answer is that you’re all in league with Cotto. I should have seen it earlier. All of you, trying to tear me down Jealous of me. Planting those fake bodies, getting in league with those… ‘Drakh’… to discredit me. Yes… jealous of me. And traitors, all of you.”

As one, the ministers shouted out, and then Mariel heard the blasts. She clapped her hands to her ears, crying out, as the death screams and the sounds of weapon fire filled the air. It seemed to go on forever, although, in truth, it lasted only a few seconds. And then there was silence once more.

Very tentatively, afraid of what she would see, Mariel opened the door.

Durla was standing there, and contrary to what she had expected, he looked exceedingly calm. His hand was at his side, holding a plasma charge blaster. The floor was light red, thick with blood, and the bodies of the ministers were strewn about. Several of them had their eyes open, and they all seemed quite surprised, yet for all their astonishment they were no less dead.

Slowly Durla turned and saw Mariel standing there. Without a word he raised his weapon and aimed it at her. “Do you,” he said steadily, “stand against me, too?”

She shook her head.

He smiled. “That’s good. That’s very good, my love. I would have hated if you had.” He looked around at the carnage with a sort of distant sadness. “I was afraid this would happen. That’s why I sent the guards away. I had hoped it would turn out differently but… not everything can. They didn’t understand. None of them did.”

She saw the transmitting equipment nearby. She stepped delicately over the fallen body of Lione, and said softly, “I understand. I didn’t used to but… now I do.” She was within six feet of him… five… walking slowly, almost slinking…