by Peter David
chapter 16 It had not been one of Senna's better weeks. Although sections of the capital city had been rebuilt, there were entire areas that still were in desperate need of renovation and recovery. But the money had been slow in coming, for there were only so many directions that the government could go. By startling coincidence-or perhaps not so startling , in truth-it was the areas of the city inhabited by the poorer inhabitants of Centauri Prime that were getting the least attention. And there were fewer sections, it seemed, that were getting less attention than the area known as Ghehana. Ghehana had a reputation that long preceded it, as a place where one could live if one was in extreme financial difficulty . And if one was willing to do whatever it took in order to survive, then one could easily find a home there. Even during the time that she was on her own, Senna had heard horror stories about Ghehana. It was where no decent person truly wished to go, and yet it was where an amazing number of people seemed to wind up. Senna had never thought that she herself would ever seek refuge there. But it had been to Ghehana that she had fled. She had tried to remain in the central parts of the city, but those were for the well-to-do or, at the very least, for those who had money to spend and places to live. She had not wanted to be reduced to begging in the streets, but as it turned out, she hadn't had the opportunity. Soldiers attached to the Office of Development 199 had been instructed to make sure that no one was loitering around because it was felt that seeing homeless or out-of- work people would only reduce the morale of those who really counted on Centauri Prime. This was a city, a world, a race that was on the upswing. Prospects were bright. Employment was up. Destiny was manifest. Everyone knew that-sooner or later-there would be a reckoning between the great Centauri Republic and the supremely arrogant races who comprised the Alliance. Piddling , backward, nowhere species who once wouldn't have been worth the Republic's time to conquer. Oh, yes ... the score would be evened, there was no doubt of that. To that end, however, work, dedication, progress, and a patriotic heart were the orders of the day. Homeless beggars, on the other hand, were just too depressing for words. And so, every effort was made to shunt them elsewhere. Where they went did not matter, so long as they went there. On one or two occasions, as soldiers sent Senna scuttling out of a doorway in which she had taken refuge, or away from a street corner that she was standing on for too long, a soldier would look at her with curiosity, as if he vaguely remembered her from somewhere. But Senna would quickly hustle along, and withdraw from their sight as quickly as possible. So it was that she found herself in Ghehana. The area frightened her. Even after two years, there were still piles of rubble in places where buildings had been. Worse, there were people actually living within the piles, having carved out spaces for themselves. The streets, rarely cleaned, were thick with dirt and grime. Isolated fires flickered in areas where people gathered to warm themselves. Senna had managed to get a small amount of money to tide herself over by selling a few of the fineries that had belonged to her at the palace, objects that she had grabbed up at the last moment. She had used the money sparingly, managed to buy food with it, but she was running extremely low on funds, and the growling of her stomach made her realize that she was once again going to have to spend some of them. She was also tired of sleeping outside, hunkering down in doorways, lying in alleys. Her clothes were filthy, she desperately needed a bath, and she had so much dirt under her fingernails that she was convinced they would never come clean, even if she had the opportunity to cleanse them. She leaned against the corner of a building, trying to decide just what in the world she was going to do, and then she heard someone clear their throat quite loudly. She turned and saw a Centauri male, slender, about medium height, short cut hair, with a generally disreputable look about him. He was grinning widely at her and she could see the glimmer of a gold tooth on the right side of his mouth. "How much?" he asked. She stared at him. "What?" "How much for your time?" He coughed once. There was an ugly rattling sound in his chest. She still didn't comprehend ... but then she got it. "Oh. No. No, I'm not ... I don't do that." "Oh, I think you do. Or would." He seemed to be looking right through her, dissecting her with his eyes. His gaze made her feel filthy down to her soul. She drew her tattered cloak around her, but then he stepped closer and roughly drew it aside. "If you were cleaned up a bit, you'd actually be quite pretty," he allowed. "You're young. How experienced are you? How many have you done at one time? Three? Four?" "Get away from me!" she said hotly, pushing him. He staggered slightly, and then suddenly took a step forward and pushed her back. The movement caught Senna off balance and she fell, hitting the ground hard. Passersby, on their hurried way to this or that activity, most likely illegal, didn't so much as slow down. "Don't stand around out here, my dear, unless you intend to do something with what you've got," the man said to her. And then someone was standing behind him, and the someone said in a calm, measured and controlled voice, "I believe the young lady said she wished you to get away from her. You had best do as she says and move along." Senna gaped in astonishment as she saw who the newcomer was. Her assailant, however, did not bother to turn around. "Oh really. And who died and left you in charge?" "Cartagia. And, after him, the regent." Something about the voice prompted the man to turn slowly and see just who it was that was addressing him. He looked into a very familiar face, and his spine stiffened and his legs began to tremble slightly. Londo Mollari, dressed in rather ordinary garb that was attracting no attention from anyone, continued "And if you wish to be the next to die, I can certainly oblige you." He snapped his fingers and there were two men on either side of him. Although they were likewise clad in unmemorable clothing, from their look and bearing it was clear that they were guards. In synch, they opened their coats slightly to reveal gun butts tucked just inside. Furthermore, each of them had fairly vicious blades dangling from their belts. The man who had been harassing Senna immediately backed up, and now his legs were shaking so violently that he could hardly stand. "Muh ... muh ... muh. . ." " `Majesty,' I believe, is the word you are seeking," Londo said drily. "I believe it would be best for you if you went on about your business now, yes?" "Yes. Yes ... absolutely," said the man, and he bolted from there so quickly that he practically left a vapor trail behind him. Londo watched him go with a vague look of satisfaction on his face, and then he turned to Senna. Senna, for her part, couldn't quite believe it. Londo extended a hand to her and it was only then that she remembered she was still on the ground. "Well," he asked. "Are you going to let me help you up? Or are you, perhaps, going to bounce a rock off my head?" She took the hand and stood dusting herself off. "How ... how did you know where I was?" He shrugged as if it were a trivial matter. "An emperor has ways, my dear. Come," and he gestured in front of her. "Let us walk for a bit." "Majesty," one of the guards said in a low voice, looking around with clear suspicion. "Perhaps it would be wise not to remain. From a security point of view. . ." "Is the most powerful individual on this planet to be the most helpless, as well?" Londo asked. "Any other Centauri, from greatest to least, can move about with confidence. Is that to exclude me? These are my people. I will deal with them as such. Come, Senna." And he began to walk. She hesitated, and Londo turned to her, indicating once more that she should follow. This time she did as he specified , falling into step beside him. As they walked, various passersby recognized him and reacted with assorted degrees of amazement. Some bowed. Others looked confused. One or two exhibited airs of scorn. Londo serenely ignored them all, acting as one of them but apart from them. "I ... did not expect to see you again, Majesty," Senna told him. "After the ... after. . ." "After you invaded my privacy?" 'I ... did not mean to=' He wagged a finger at her. "Do not say that. Do not think you can fool me. I've had experience with enough wives to know how the female mind works. You did precisely what you set out to do." "But I thought you were writing a history book. One that would be publicly available anyway. It didn't occur to me that you were writing so private, so personal. . ." "It is a history nonetheless. However, it is one that I assume will
be published posthumously. Once I am gone," and he shrugged "what do I care of what people know of my innermost feelings and concerns." "If people knew those, though, Majesty, they . . ." Her voice trailed off. He looked at her with interest. "They what?" "They would feel better about the future of Centauri Prime," she said. "Perhaps even about themselves. I ... Majesty, lately I don't feel as if I even know you. And I have been living in the palace for some time, so if I don't know you ... who does?" "Timov," Londo said ruefully. "If anyone knows me, it is she. She is my first wife. My shortest wife. My loudest wife. Not my most dangerous ... that would be Mariel. But Timov, she was. . ." "Is she dead?" "No. She has sworn to outlast me. She would not give me the satisfaction of having her precede me to the presence of the Great Maker." He waved it off. "It is pointless to speak of her. Why did you run off?" "Because you frightened me, Majesty." He took her by the elbow and turned her to face him. "I was angry with you. I shouted at you. That was the extent of what you faced ... and that frightened you? My child, if you accomplish only one thing in the time that you spend with me, it has to be to raise your tolerance level in terms of what does and does not frighten you. There are terrifying things in this galaxy, Senna. Things so monstrous, so evil, so dark, that it takes tremendous courage simply to look them in the eye ... eyes," he quickly amended, although she wasn't sure why. "If you are to make your way in life, you must not be so easily daunted by something as relatively trivial as an old man shouting at you." "You are not old, Majesty." "Aging, then, if that preserves your delicate concerns. An aging man shouting at you." He paused and then said, looking as if a great deal hinged on her answer, "How far ... did you get in the narrative? Where did you start, for that matter?" "At the beginning and end of your dinner and time with President Sheridan and Delenn." "And no farther?" She shook her head, looking so earnest that no reasonable person could possibly doubt her. "No, Majesty. No farther. Why? Is there something there I should not read?" "You should not read any of it," he told her flatly, but it seemed to her as if his body was sagging in visible relief. "It is ... first draft, if nothing else. It is not ready to be read by someone else. What I write in those pages are my initial thoughts, but as I prepare the history for publication, I will craft it into something that is more ... appropriate to an emperor , and less politically charged, if you understand my meaning." "I ... I think so, Majesty. It's just that. . :' "What?" "Nothing." "No," he said firmly. "You are not to do that with me, Senna. Not ever. You do not start a thought out loud, and then seek to pluck it back as if it was never released. Finish the thought." "I ... just did not want to hurt your feelings, Emperor." Londo made a dismissive noise. "My feelings, Senna, are beyond your ability to hurt, I assure you. So . . ." And he waited for her to continue. "Well, it is just that ... when you grabbed the book from me, you not only seemed angry ... but you were also . . . well ... afraid. At least, that was how it looked to me. Afraid that I had read something that I should not have read." "It was simply the timing," he said easily. "I had been having-shall we say `unpleasant'-dreams, and then I awoke, confused and disoriented, and found you there. Was there fear in my eyes? Perhaps. All manner of notions were tumbling around in my head. But you should not read too much into what you saw at that moment." The way he said it and explained it, it almost all sounded reasonable. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to be able to return to the palace because, truth to tell, she had become comfortable there. She had come to think of it as her home. Yes, there were people there she found distasteful, even somewhat frightful. But that would certainly be the case wherever she resided, wouldn't it? And she also felt that Londo ... needed her somehow. Not on any sort of romantic level, no. She didn't think for a moment that that was entering into the picture, and she was quite certain that he would never even try to take advantage of her in that way, because of her youth and out of respect to her late father. She was certain Londo would think such a thing utterly inappropriate. "Was there anything else in there," Londo said slowly, "that caused you any confusion or concern? Now is the time to speak of these things, Senna." "Well," she admitted, "the things that you wrote in that book ... they made it sound as if you have some great secret that you keep hidden within you. There was such curious phrasing, and it seemed as if you felt you were being watched all the time." He nodded. "A fair comment. And understandable, since you did not read earlier parts of the narrative. The secrets are-" He was cut off as a man bumped into them at that moment. He wore grey, enveloping robes with a hood drawn up, and he seemed quite intent on hurrying on his way. His hurried movement actually brought him into contact with Londo for a moment. The guards immediately stepped forward, alert, and Senna didn't blame them, since such an incident could easily cover a knife thrust. But the hooded man moved right on past, and Londo seemed barely to have noticed him. For one moment , though, the man glanced in Senna's direction and smiled. She couldn't help but notice that he was quite handsome , and then he vanished into the crowd ... a crowd that was slowly becoming more dense as word of the emperor's presence began to spread throughout Ghehana. The guards relaxed their defensive posture only slightly, and still kept a wary eye on the crowd. "The secrets," continued Londo, "involve that which you must already know. Sooner or later, it is the destiny of the Centauri Republic to try and reclaim its place in the power structure of the galaxy. When, and if, I encounter Sheridan again, we will be enemies. There was a time. . . I have not felt like that since. . ." His voice had trailed off. "Since when, Majesty?" "I had coordinated a military assault against the Nam," Londo told her. "The details are not important; suffice to say that it was the first strike by the Centauri Republic in our endeavor to obliterate the Nam. When the assault was already in progress, before word of it had become public ... the Narn ambassador to Babylon 5, a fellow known as G'Kar, bought me a drink, shook my hand in friendship, and spoke of a bright future. He did not know-though I did-what was about to happen. It was not a pleasant feeling for me. It still is not. Sometimes, Senna, you look upon an enemy and wonder what it would have been like in another life, if you and he were friends. "Well, I genuinely was friends with them. I look back upon those days as if I am watching someone else's life, rather than my own. I did not realize ... how very fortunate I was at the time. All I felt was the discontent. Discontent that rose within me until it pushed out every other attribute I had. In those days, when I spoke in anger of what Centauri Prime had once been, I breathed fire. Here is the interesting thing, Senna: when you breathe fire, you are usually left with ashes in your mouth." "But then ... then why go down that same path again? If it brought you nothing but unhappiness. . ." "Because the people need it, Senna. The people need something to believe in. That might not have been the case even as recently as a generation ago, when the memories of what it was like to be feared throughout the galaxy had grown faded and dim. But the current generation of Centauri know what it was like to be world beaters. They have tasted blood, Senna. They have tasted meat. They cannot be expected to go back to grazing on plants. Besides ... this time it will be different." "How? How will it be different?" "Because," he said with conviction, "those who were running Centauri Prime were power mad or insane or both. They lost sight of what was truly the important thing: the people. The people must always come first, Senna. Always, without exception, yes?" "Yes, absolutely." "I will not ever forget that. My goal is simply to obtain for the Centauri people the respect that they so richly deserve. But we will not mindlessly destroy, we will not endeavor to lay waste to all that we encounter. Before, we overreached ourselves, became greedy and overconfident, and we paid a price for that ... a terrible price," he said, glancing at a fallen building. "But having paid that price, having learned from our mistakes, we will proceed down a path that will bring glory to the Centauri Republic without taking us to ruination." "That ... does not sound all that unreasonable," Senna said slowly. "You ... might have put it that way to President Sheridan. . ." "No," was the firm reply. "He cannot be trusted, Senna. For the time being, we cannot afford to t
rust any except each other. We must proceed with caution. Who knows, after all, how Sheridan might misinterpret or inaccurately repeat anything that I say to him. So I speak of friendship and stick with generalities. That is the way such encounters must be handled, at least for now. Do you understand?" "I ... think I do, yes. I just wish that you didn't have to be, well ... so lonely." "Lonely?" A smile played on his lips. "Is that how I come across to you?" "Yes. In the journal, and even to person sometimes, yes. Very lonely." "Believe me, Senna ... there are many times I feel as if I am never alone." "I know exactly what you're talking about." "You do?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. " `Exactly' how?" "The guards all the time. and Durla, and Lione, and Kuto, and all the others ... they hover around you. . ." "You are a very perceptive girl," he said, letting out what seemed to Senna to be another sigh of relief. "But that's not the same as having companionship. It's just not the same at all." "I suppose you are right." "1 am ... at least I could be ... company for you, Majesty. As ... you see fit, that is." "Senna ... what you can do for me is return to the palace and live safely and happily there. To be honest, that is all that I require of you. Will you do this for me?" "If... it will make you happy, Majesty. Sometimes I think few enough things do. So if my presence would help in that regard . . ." "It would," Londo said confidently. "Very well. Although I just want you to know ... I could have survived out here, on my own, if it was necessary. I just want us both to know that." "I understand fully," Londo said. "I appreciate you clarifying that for me." One of the guards stepped in close and said with some urgency , "Majesty, I really think it is time for us to go." Senna looked around and saw that it was becoming more and more crowded with each passing moment. People seemed to be assembling from everywhere. Within a short time it would become impossible to move. Londo surveyed the situation a moment, and then said softly to the guard, "Step back, please." The guard did so, a puzzled and concerned look on his face, and then Londo turned to face the crowd. He said nothing, absolutely nothing. Instead he stretched his arms out in front of himself, held them level for a moment ... and then spread them wide, making his desires known simply by a gesture. To Senna's utter astonishment, the crowd parted for him, creating a clear avenue down which he could proceed. That was precisely what he then did, walking down the avenue, nodding to people, and as he did he worked the lines that were on either side of him. He would nod to this person, touch another's hand, speak a few words of encouragement to yet another. It was one of the most amazing things Senna had ever seen. Just like that, with no apparent effort, Londo had created an impromptu parade, with himself, Senna, and the guards as the entirety of the procession. And as they moved through Ghehana, someone called out Londo's name. "Mollari." And then someone else followed suit, and another ... entirety of the and still another, until they were chanting it over and over. "Mollari. Mollari. Mollari. . ." Londo basked in their adulation, smiling and nodding, and Senna realized that there had been a great deal of truth to what Londo had said. The people needed something to believe in, something to elevate them above themselves. And for the time being, that "something" was going to be Londo Mollari himself. Londo the Emperor, Londo the Rebuilder, Londo the Lover of the People, who was going to bring prosperity to Centauri Prime and rebuild the Republic into something that every Centauri could be proud of. But he still seemed lonely. And that was something that Senna decided she was going to do something about. The Centauri worker wished that he were anywhere else but here. He had wandered off from the main dig site, feeling tired and thirsty and fairly fed up with the company of his fellows. All of them seemed hideously happy to have some kind of employment , however marginal, and they were laboring under some sort of bizarre delusion that somehow the needs and interests of the great Centauri Republic were going to be served by working at a useless archaeological dig on some damned backwater planet, using antiquated tools and having no clear idea of what it was that they were actually looking for. "Idiots," he said, not for the first time. It was at that point that he decided he had had it. He took his dirt cruncher aimed it just below his feet, and fired it straight down. By all rights, by all instructions, there shouldn't be anything there in particular . He was determined to take out his ire by burning the cruncher out completely, operating it at high speed for longer than it was meant to operate. The cruncher pounded about ten feet straight down, and then something came back up. The worker never really had the opportunity to figure out what it might be. All he knew was that one moment he was happily pushing his cruncher to the maximum, and the next some sort of black energy was enveloping him and he heard a scream, which he thought was his own except he realized it was inside his head, and not quite like anything he had ever heard before. Then he heard nothing else, ever again, as his body was blasted apart in a shower ofgelatinous body parts that spattered over a radius of about ffty feet. Since he was spread so wide and far, no one who subsequently stumbled upon any part of his remains truly understood what it was they were looking at. When he didn't show up for sign-out that evening, he was marked down as absent without leave, and his pay was docked accordingly. Meantime, eighty feet below, something went back to standby mode, and waited for a less abusive summons.
