The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  “A friend, he was, another friend I couldn’t save.”

  “A proper kiss. She used to say she loved me. What’s changed?”

  “I saw God reflected in his eyes. He looked so scared.”

  “She won’t speak to me, won’t come anywhere near me. I mean, we’ve been busy, but surely she could find some time?”

  “I saw God…”

  Commander David Corwin and Lieutenant Stephen Franklin looked up at each other. Slowly and solemnly they drained their drinks, and then ordered another each.

  * * * * * * *

  T ime to get this over with, Sheridan thought as he entered the rooms in the barracks that had been officially designated as being his. He could have claimed much larger ones, of course. After all, he was humanity’s greatest captain. And the only heavy class captain. Larger quarters were unnecessary, however, especially when he spent so little time there.

  One of the reasons why was already inside.

  “Hello, Anna,” he said, his voice carefully guarded.

  “Oh look,” she whispered, turning to greet him. “It’s John Sheridan. The Starkiller. Well, hello, Johnny. Better late than never. Two days and you finally decide to come and see your wife.”

  “Anna, you’re drunk.”

  “Of course I’m drunk! I’m always drunk, aren’t I? Nothing else to do, not like you. Not like the Starkiller. Always so perfect.”

  Sheridan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at her. Her lovely red hair was a mess, her eyes were tired and she smelled of cheap Narn liquor and sweat. He turned his gaze away, not wanting to look at her like that any longer. “How have you been?”

  “Same as ever,” she replied. “You know me. I never change, do I?”

  But she had changed. Ever since Elizabeth. He had turned hard and cold, alive only in battle. She had turned to the bottle. Who was to say that his way was any better than hers?

  “No,” he whispered, agreeing with her. “Things never change.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She sat down next to him. “How long are you here for?”

  “A few days only.”

  “Oh, I see. Off again. Can’t stand to be by your lousy drunken disgrace of a wife, is that it? Well, fine! Go away! You were a lousy husband and a lousy father. If you’d been better, maybe Liz would still be here. Still be here…”

  He spun around and lifted his fist without even realising what he was doing. Then something caught him. The faint smell of orange blossom. In her more lucid moments Anna sprinkled it around the room, possibly to get rid of the smell of the liquor, but maybe because it reminded them both of his father’s garden, and happier times. It also reminded him of Delenn, who gave off that same sweet scent.

  He realised what he was doing and lowered his fist. She had not even noticed, but he had. He had never once hit Anna. Never even thought about it. He rose and stormed out of the room, disgusted with himself, and silently thanking Delenn’s spirit for bringing him to his senses. When he realised what he was doing, he cursed her instead.

  Anna lay there still, half asleep, half conscious, a fragment of her mind remembering what she had been and hating herself for becoming this… creature, but she no longer had the willpower to resist. She could no longer imagine anything else.

  But someone else could. The door opened and she stirred. “John?” But it wasn’t John. It was a woman. An attractive, brown-haired woman.

  “Hello,” the visitor said. “You must be Anna. I’m Susan. Susan Ivanova.”

  “That supposed to mean something to me?”

  “Perhaps. May I sit down?” Anna nodded and Susan sat down next to her. “John’s told me a lot about you.”

  “Bet he has.”

  “He still loves you, you know. He just can’t accept it like this, but don’t worry. He will.”

  “Hates me.”

  “No… well… maybe. It’s the Minbari, you see. It’s all their fault. They turned him into this, turned you into this. It’s all their fault, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Minbari… killed Lizzy. My daughter.”

  “Kill them all and everything will be fine. There’s one here, you know. A Minbari. A powerful one. She even led them during the war.”

  “Wha’…?”

  “If she were to die, I’m sure everything would be fine again. She’s being kept in a cell not far from here. In the cell block of the Government building. If she died, I’m sure everything would be fine between you and John.”

  “Fine?”

  “Yes.” Susan smiled, and Anna couldn’t help smiling in turn. “Her name’s Delenn.”

  Chapter 2

  The grey-clad Security man known only as Mr. Welles waited patiently in the corridor. Welles was always patient, and thorough, two of the reasons why he had come so far, why he had survived the horror that had engulfed Earth, why he was so valuable to the Resistance Government here on Proxima 3, and why he had been given the task of breaking this particular prisoner.

  General Hague had warned him that this would not be easy. The prisoner was… stubborn, to say the least, possessed of an astonishing core of inner strength and an almost tangible willpower and force of personality. The fire and knowledge in her eyes frightened even him. From the first moment he had seen her, Welles had leapt at the chance for this interrogation. He had nearly fallen to his knees and thanked the God he had stopped believing in. Here, at last was his chance to serve his people.

  General Hague had warned him that this would not be easy, but even so, Welles was surprised by his lack of success. For over six days the questioning had continued. The prisoner had been denied food, water and sleep. On three separate occasions Lyta Alexander had entered the her, only to emerge with vague images, unclear thoughts and a fatigue that lasted for days.

  Mr. Welles could wait. Mr. Welles was patient. But Mr. Welles was also practical, and he knew when to hurry an interrogation along – when to wait, and when to push, when to sit in silence, and when to speak.

  The two men he had been waiting for were coming into view, and he took time to study them. Boggs was a former Gropo, insignificant and unimportant, one of millions, at least until he had become trapped behind enemy lines during the assault on Io. He had survived on an occupied moon for months, with little food or water, but he had endured and been rescued, with a long scar, a knowledge of the Minbari language and physiology, and a deep-rooted hatred. Cutter was another story entirely. Born to rich military parents, the old man’s connections had swung him into Earthforce and up the ranks. Those connections had ended with Earth, but Cutter still tried to maintain his claimed superiority. Of average competence and dubious political leanings, he was not especially valuable, but he had two redeeming characteristics: he obeyed orders and he trusted Welles. Both were security guards under Welles’ direct supervision and he now needed their help.

  “You wanted to see us, Chief?” Boggs said.

  “How much do you know about the prisoner I’m questioning?” Welles asked.

  “Everything we need to know,” Cutter replied. “There was a near-riot a few days ago. People wanted to drag her out under the Dome and stone her to death, of all things. We sorted the matter out.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard about that,” Welles said, annoyed with himself for becoming too engrossed in this case. “Does everyone know she’s here?”

  “Pretty much, yes,” Cutter said. “It leaked somehow.”

  “Really? Oh, well. Our prisoner is proving remarkably unco-operative. If force of will could be bottled, she’d have enough to open a plant. Not even telepathic scans are having much effect, which is where you come in. I want you to hurt her. Nothing permanent, nothing serious and nothing where it will show. Just enough to throw off her equilibrium. With any luck, hunger, thirst and loss of sleep will do the rest.” Welles looked at them slowly. “Gentlemen, can you control yourselves? I can’t let you kill her. She has far too much information that we need. If you don’t think you can control yourselves, just let me
know, and I’ll get someone else to do it. I won’t think any the less of you if you can’t do this. I don’t think I could control myself either.”

  “She’s a Minbari,” Boggs said slowly. “We owe her all the hurt in the bloody galaxy.”

  “I know,” Welles replied. “I know.”

  “But you’re the Chief,” Boggs finished. “You say nothing permanent or serious, then fine. Nothing permanent or serious.”

  “Good, thank you. She’s in there.” Welles banged on the door and the security guard who had been keeping an eye on the prisoner opened it. Welles, Boggs and Cutter stepped in. Satai Delenn of the Grey Council looked up.

  “I have been expecting you,” she said softly.

  * * * * * * *

  Sheridan cursed every last Narn to the fires of purgatory for what seemed the hundredth time since he had arrived on this desolate rock they called their homeworld. And then he looked out of the window and repented his silent curse. The Narns had also known what it was like to lose everything they held dear. For over a hundred years the Centauri had dominated their people, and now each and every Narn was consumed with a fury for revenge, for retribution and for blood that not even a recent five-year war could diminish. How different were they from Sheridan himself?

  Fine, so he understood them, but did they have to be so bloody slow about everything? He had been waiting here for three days since his arrival on the Narn homeworld, to report personally on the destruction of the Vega 7 colony to the Kha’Ri – and not at all to find out which one of those reptilian bastards had sold him out to the Minbari. Oh no, not at all.

  For three days they had been debating and arguing about his report. What was there to argue about? Vega 7 was neither important nor valuable, but it still housed a lot of humans and Narns. And then the Minbari had swept in, and massacred everyone there. Marcus Cole was the only surviving inhabitant, and Sheridan hoped his evidence would convince the Kha’Ri. Assuming either of them ever got to see them.

  His link bleeped and he activated it sullenly. “Yes?”

  “Captain?” It was Corwin. “Daily report for you, sir.”

  Sheridan groaned softly, then hoped Corwin hadn’t picked up the noise. Was it that time of day already? Was he going to be stuck here forever? “Proceed, Mr. Cor…” His communications console suddenly bleeped, and he turned to it. “Excuse me, David. On.”

  The face of a Narn appeared on the screen. It was Councillor Na’Toth. “Captain, the Kha’Ri will see you now, in their personal hall.”

  “About bloody time,” he muttered under his breath. “Will you want to see Marcus as well?”

  “Who? Oh yes, the… witness you mentioned in your report. That will not be necessary, Captain. Please be prompt. We are very busy, after all.” The viewscreen went blank again.

  “I’ll bet you are,” Sheridan said. He touched his link again. “Sorry, David. The Kha’Ri have finally woken up and they want to see me. The report will have to wait, I’m afraid.” He switched off his link without giving David a chance to reply, and opened the door. The sooner he could see the Kha’Ri, the sooner he would be off this barren rock.

  Unsurprisingly, Marcus was there waiting for him. Sheridan glared at him. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do that.” Sheridan didn’t need a bodyguard, least of all one with the sort of death wish Marcus seemed to possess, and the man was annoying the hell out of him.

  “You agreed, Captain. Please respect my wishes on this.” Sheridan did, but they were no less annoying for all that. Had Marcus been alone, he would probably have muttered something about respect and then let Marcus accompany him, but Marcus was not alone.

  “Have the Kha’Ri decided to see you at last then, John?”

  Susan Ivanova was one of the most confusing people Sheridan had ever met. She was breathtakingly – almost heartstoppingly – beautiful, and she was possessed of a deep, wry sense of humour. She reminded him – personality-wise – of Anna before they had been married. But instead of taking away his tensions simply with her presence, as Anna had done, Susan added to them. There was nothing he could put his finger on, but he did not like to be around her. Maybe it was the power of her unnamed ’friends’ who could blow away two Minbari cruisers in ten seconds, or maybe it was the fact that she reminded him so much of Anna as she had been, which reminded him only too well of what Anna was now, or maybe it was the fact that she kept coming to his bed at night, and he lacked the willpower to resist her.

  Or maybe it was all of the above.

  Sheridan had insisted she come along, and she had not seemed to mind. He did not like to be around her, but he didn’t trust her, and he wanted her to be where he could see her. He had hoped she would stay on the Babylon, where David could watch her, but… she was here instead.

  “About time too. They want to see me alone, but I suppose the two of you can come along.”

  Marcus merely nodded, but Susan batted her eyelashes and put on an infuriating display of childish ingenuousness. “Why thank you, Captain. I’m so glad.”

  Sheridan was not a happy man, and he doubted that this meeting with the Kha’Ri would make him any happier.

  * * * * * * *

  “Well, Satai Delenn,” said Mr. Welles as he sat down and sipped his cup of artificial coffee. It was dreadful stuff, but old habits died hard. “And how do you feel now?”

  “You do not care how I feel,” she replied, spitting fury with every syllable. “You only care about the knowledge I have that you want. You are concerned with nothing more than acquiring that.”

  “True,” he conceded, looking at her. Boggs and Cutter had done their work well. The only visible sign of injury on her was a fading bruise on her cheek that had been there for over a week. She was sitting in the same posture she had adopted for the last six days. Only the hint of a sob in her breath, or the slight twitch of her left arm, attested to Boggs and Cutter’s work. Hopefully it would be enough to break her. If not, he could always call them back. “But look at it this way, Satai Delenn. At least I want you alive.”

  “You use my title in mockery,” she replied, “not understanding its significance. I would rather you did not. Its meaning is sullied in a mouth like yours.”

  So there it was. The anger that had been brimming beneath the surface for six days was now out in force. Welles removed his PPG from his holster and placed the weapon on the table in front of him. Just in case. Looking at her eyes, he understood how dangerous this woman was. “So then, Satai Delenn, explain to me its significance. Tell me about the Grey Council, about Valen and the Nine, about the darkness and the light. I will be a most attentive listener.”

  “I pity you,” she replied. Another person might have laughed, but Welles did not. He merely raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. She did so. “Amongst Minbari, one individual leads, but we move together. When our leader was killed by your people, we went mad together, and we stayed mad for a very long time. We are only now beginning to wake up… together. But you… you are alone. All of your people are alone, with no one to wake you from your madness.”

  “Madness? Really? Oh, well let me see if I understand this, Satai Delenn. You went mad because of the death of one man – your leader. His name was…?”

  Softly: “Dukhat.”

  “Ah, thank you. Dukhat, yes. You went mad from one death, one loss, and under that madness you destroyed seven colonies, two moons, most of our fleet, twenty thousand ships at the Battle of the Line, most of our leaders, most of our population in fact… and our homeworld. So tell me, Satai Delenn, if you went mad from just one death, why can we not go mad from all those deaths, from all those losses? You may pretend otherwise, but you are no better than us, are you?”

  A silent stare was his only reply, but a stare with a hint of sadness. Ah, a beginning. “In fact, you destroyed more than just our homeworld. You destroyed our dreams with it. Do you have any… oh, how should I put it? Any point of focus? Something for your whole people to believe in –
to worship, if you will? Anything at all?”

  Equally softly: “Valen, and the Nine, and the purpose ahead.”

  The purpose? He chalked a mental note to remember that one. “Well, we had a point of focus too. A centre for all our hopes and dreams as a people. It was called Earth. Here, look at this.” He pointed out the badge on his uniform. She looked at it, but said nothing. “Earthforce, you see. As in – Earth. When I first put on this uniform, I felt ten feet tall, as though I could take on anything the universe could throw at me. I had a calling, you see, and that calling was to serve Earth – the planet, the people, the ideals that gave it form. You took all of that away from me. From me, and from countless others. I have endured. I still have a purpose here. A small one, I grant you, but a purpose still. I still desire to serve, to do all I can. But others… others do not. They have fallen, grieving for their losses. Suicide. Dust or Storm, or alcohol. Sad, pitiful figures, without purpose, without calling, without a reason for living.”

  Was that a burgeoning tear in her eye? A hint of remorse? “Now, I am a rational man, Satai Delenn, or I would like to think that I am. You see, I am aware that there are Nine in the Grey Council and that you doubtless do not speak for all Nine. You may not even have been in the Council during the war. I am aware that Captain Sheridan killed a few of your number during his attack above Mars just after the fall of Earth. You may be a replacement for one killed then. Or you may have spoken out against the war, voted against it, called for an end for all of it. The destruction of my dreams… of our dreams, may have been done at another’s instigation, not yours. I am a rational and fair man, Satai Delenn, and I cannot punish one person for actions committed by another. But they are not here, and you are, Satai Delenn.

  “Mere words cannot express what I would like to do to you in return for all those lost lives, for all those severed dreams, for all those broken spirits. I would rip out your eyes, crush your bones, rip that crest from your head and smash it into powder, tear out your organs, rip you to shreds. The people elsewhere on this colony desire something similar. They would have you stoned to death, or crucified, or beheaded, or burned at the stake, as if you were a witch or something. I want all those things as well, Satai Delenn, but I know that I cannot have them. I know that you are needed alive, for the knowledge that you have, knowledge which may well serve to undo all the wrongs committed against my people. There are very, very few of us with the conviction to think that way. I do not blame the others. They have every reason to want you dead, but I… I want you alive. That makes me, Satai Delenn, the only friend you have on this planet.”