The Other Half of my Soul addm-1

by Gareth D. Williams

  There was one other result of Sheridan’s journey to Narn. A few days after his return, he sought out Satai Delenn in her interrogation room. Mr. Welles was not present – Sheridan having waited until that would be the case – and he found Satai Delenn alone with only a security guard and her own nightmares for company.

  “Mr. Boggs?” Sheridan said.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Take a walk.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Boggs did not like him, Sheridan knew that, but he did not care. He did not expect to be liked.

  Delenn raised her head, and he was shocked by just how ill she looked. There was enormous fatigue in her eyes, and despair in her posture. She gasped and spasmed, and he knew what was causing her pain.

  He switched off the electric shock device and turned to her.

  “How long have you been here?” he asked. “Since I brought you here?” She nodded. “Oh my God, what have they been doing to you?”

  “Questions,” she replied. “Scans. More questions.”

  Sheridan studied her closely. “How long has it been since you last had something to eat?”

  “Minbari can fast for periods of up to twelve days with no ill effects,” she got out. “We do so in times of grief or loss.”

  “How long has it been since you last had something to eat?” he repeated.

  “Aboard your ship,” she whispered. “Before I arrived here.”

  “Eighteen days,” he spat, horrified with himself. He activated his link. “This is Captain Sheridan to Quartermaster Chase.”

  “Chase here,” the quartermaster replied. His voice was quiet as ever. Did the man never speak up?

  “Bring one full ration pack to cell… oh, what cell is this? Cell nineteen.”

  “But Captain, that’s…”

  “Just do it.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  The ration pack was soon brought, and Sheridan presented it to Delenn. “It’s supposed to contain all the necessary nutrients for humans for several days,” he said. “I’m not sure what it will do for a Minbari… and it tastes horrible by the way…”

  “I am sure it will be fine,” she replied. “Thank you, Captain. But… why?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “I do.”

  And he had watched her eat and drink, and afterwards she had rested her head on her arms and slept, and he had watched her.

  And no harm came to her, not here in his great house.

  And no dreams came to her either.

  * * * * * * *

  G’Kar’s preparations to leave his shrine were long. There was much to be done – checking in with his agents, receiving reports, the long, slow process of healing.

  Because of all this, he was still there several months later, watched by the Vorlon and by Neroon and Ta’Lon, his trusted guardians.

  And yet his trusted guardians did not stop a mysterious alien visiting him late one night.

  “Come,” the alien said. “You G’Kar, yes. You must come, yes. Must come.”

  “Who are you?” G’Kar asked.

  “No no no, never ask that question, never never ask that question. But, I is being called Zathras, and I is being very honoured to be meeting with you, yes.”

  “What do you want?”

  “No no no, never be asking that question either.”

  “Of course not.” G’Kar was surfacing to some degree of wakefulness now. “Well, what can I do for you?”

  “You must come with Zathras, yes. Varn send us all to look, yes. Varn tell Zathras to find G’Kar. Zathras look, Zathras travel, and now Zathras is finding G’Kar. Yes. Zathras did well, yes, and now G’Kar must come with Zathras, yes. Is being very important.”

  “Go with you? Where?”

  “The Great Machine, of course. Yes yes. The Great Machine.”

  Part III: Warrior Souls

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Delenn.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Who are you?”

  “That is the only answer I can give you. I was a Satai of the Grey Council. I was a member of the clan of Mir, of the religious caste. I was many things. Now, I am just Delenn.”

  Captain John J. Sheridan looked directly at her and bowed his head, thumping the table angrily. Nothing made sense to him any more. It hadn’t since his return from the Narn homeworld. He had… seen things there which had forced him to re-evaluate so much of his life. He had learned about the Enemy, about a network of agents being set up to combat this mysterious Enemy, led by a man he had every reason to respect and trust. And he had learned that he might be directly responsible for bringing this Enemy into an alliance with what remained of the human race. Everything John Sheridan held dear was collapsing around him, and this woman was at the centre.

  A Minbari. A Satai no less. She had been part of the destruction of his home planet. She had watched while he had been brought, chained and bloodied, before the Grey Council. She had fallen during his escape, and had been brought here, to Proxima 3. Sheridan had known what would be done to her. She was the first source of accurate, reliable information about the Minbari that the Resistance Government had had since the war began fourteen years ago. Humanity would do anything to gain that information.

  But still… Sheridan had been shocked by the sight of her upon his return. Moaning, delirious, starving, weakened… He had performed a single act of mercy – food, drink and sleep. And why? What was she to him? An enemy? A monster? A woman all alone in the night?

  “Who are you?” he whispered, speaking not to her, but to himself. A question to which he did not know the answer.

  “Captain,” she said cautiously, and he looked up. “You are not alone in your pain. No one ever is.”

  “You are.”

  She paused. “No. I have my memories, and my purpose. I have my meditations. I am not alone.”

  Sheridan begged to differ. The only one of her kind in a world where she had no friends at all. He had even heard that there had been riots while he was gone, as people struggled to have her brought forward for execution. Her only home now was a grey room, with walls, two chairs and a table. Her only company, the harshly ironic, coldly brutal Mr. Welles, able to tear her apart mentally and emotionally without laying a finger on her; or the silent guards who simply stared with eyes of hatred; or Sheridan himself…

  “On Narn I met someone called Neroon,” he said. “He… seemed to know you.”

  “Neroon,” she said his name softly, as if he had always been foremost in her mind, but she had never been able to admit it until now. “I miss him, but… he has his path and I have mine. Who would have thought mine would lead me here?”

  “Not him, certainly. Did you have many… friends on Minbar?”

  “A few. Many were lost. The war. The Enemy. Branmer’s was a sad death.”

  “Ah yes. I’ve heard of him. He led in the Line, didn’t he?”

  “And the Rangers after that. He was a great man.”

  “I… I was just wondering… did you have any family at all? A brother or a sister?”

  “No,” she said softly. “My mother entered the Daughters of Valeria just after I was born, and I have seen her only a few times since. My father… he went to the sea many years ago. I miss him. He was a good man, wise and gentle. I have… cousins, but no close family left. Except for Draal.”

  Sheridan wasn’t catching some of what she had said. The Daughters of Valeria? Some sort of religious order? Went to the sea? “Draal?” he said softly. It was not a name he recognised.

  “My father’s greatest friend. He was my teacher when I was a child, and my conscience as an adult. He… was an old and dear friend.”

  “Was?”

  “He is still alive… I hope. But… I am lost to him now. I am lost to everyone.” She looked up and met his gaze. Sheridan was aware of how he must look. He hadn’t shaved in days, and fatigue and bitterness never seemed to leave his eyes
. Anna had complained about his appearance often enough. “And you, Captain? Do you have any family here?”

  Coming from anyone else, Sheridan would have lashed out after a question like that, but not here. He had hit Delenn once and had felt sick afterwards. “My parents and sister died on Earth,” he said, trying to keep all emotion and tone from his voice. He saw Delenn’s eyes widen and she breathed in sharply, a soft gasp of contrition. “My daughter died a few years ago. My wife is still here but… she’s not the same woman I married.”

  “I… I am sorry, Captain. I… Oh, Valen…” She looked as though she were about to cry. He met her gaze for a moment and he saw, reflected in her eyes, the light of a dying Earth, and a dying dream with it. “He was right,” she breathed. “Mr. Welles was right. I… I have destroyed so much. So much gone never to be reclaimed. So much gone forever. Valen forgive me.”

  Sheridan listened silently to her litany, and then, without wholly realising what he was doing, he knelt down beside her chair and touched her hand, covering it with his own.

  The room was silent, save for the rhythmic thud of her heartbeat and the quiet, peaceful motions of their breathing, which seemed in tune with each other.

  * * * * * * *

  Lyta Alexander was a woman with a mission, and that mission was to track down the man who was always hanging around with Captain Sheridan. Marcus, she understood his name to be. She had run into him a number of times since his return to Proxima 3 with Captain Sheridan, and he had tried to avoid her, on one occasion actively running away. Lyta had been on Proxima 3 long enough to realise that Captain Sheridan never liked hanging around on planet when he could possibly avoid it, and it was a fair bet that he would be off again soon. That would mean Marcus would be going off with him, and she had to get hold of him first.

  That was however, easier said than done. Points to bear in mind:

  1. Sheridan was on the planet, not aboard the Babylon.

  2. Marcus was as close to Sheridan as his shadow, so it made sense that Marcus would be on the planet as well.

  3. Find Sheridan, and therefore, find Marcus.

  Unfortunately Sheridan was a master at not being found. It was one of the reasons why he was still alive. Lyta had precious few hours left before her next attempt at scanning the mind of that Minbari for Mr. Welles, and she wanted to make sure she found Marcus before that.

  (And every moment she spent looking for – and thinking about – Marcus was a moment she did not spend remembering her dreams.)

  Easier said than done. General Hague had no idea where he was, and Sheridan was definitely not meeting with the Resistance Government, who were batting heads with each other all afternoon. Sheridan was also not with his wife, who had probably passed out in some bar somewhere.

  There was only one place left to check, and she had made sure to leave it until last. Delenn’s cell was not exactly the most pleasant place on the planet, and there was a possibility that Welles would be there. Lyta did not like Welles, not at all. She didn’t like having to invade Delenn’s mind, and she definitely didn’t like having Welles watch her while she was doing it.

  Welles… it was as if he were a simple automaton. Whatever humanity was inside of him had been destroyed with Earth. She had tried a casual scan of him once, just out of curiosity, and she had been repelled by the cold, precise purpose of the man. To him, everything was a set of problems to be solved, and steps to be taken in the reclamation of humanity’s legacy. There was no humanity in him.

  Still, despite the risk of running into Welles, she decided that she had to check the area out. Marcus might well be worth the risk.

  The security guard on duty at the entrance to the prison block looked up sharply. Lyta recognised him. A cool, precise, dedicated man named Morishi. He at least had some sort of soul to him, even if that soul was blackened to extreme violence whenever anybody mentioned Minbari.

  “Miss Alexander,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you for another three hours.”

  “I was looking for someone,” she said breezily. “Tell me, is Captain Sheridan in here?”

  “You know I’m not allowed to give out information like that, Miss Alexander.”

  “Of course,” she said smiling. She sat up on his desk and crossed her legs, still smiling as she stared at him. Why couldn’t it have been Cutter? He would have been so busy staring at her legs – or maybe her chest – that he wouldn’t have noticed any attempt to scan his mind. Morishi was too professional by far. Still, Lyta was very good at what she did. “Mr. Welles then? I have something I should just talk over with him.”

  “Mr. Welles is resting,” Morishi said, not taking his eyes away from hers. Never loosing her smile, she slowly took off one black glove and touched his cheek. “You… should… come… back… at… fifteen… Yes, of course, Miss Alexander. Just go straight in.”

  Lyta jumped down from the desk and breezed straight past him, replacing her glove as she did so. Morishi would get into trouble for that when Welles came back, but that could be dealt with later. She had at least discovered that Sheridan was in Delenn’s cell, and therefore Marcus would be with him.

  She made her way along the tortuous corridors swiftly, smiling and nodding at the various guards as she did so. Cutter was one of them, and to him she did not smile. She had no need of telepathy to pick up what he was thinking.

  The nearer she got to Delenn’s cell, the slower her walk became. She could practically sense the fear and the hatred that came from inside the room, ingrained in there over long weeks of questions and pain. She had been inside Delenn’s mind a total of six times now, and she did not like the experience. She had no reason to love the Minbari, but she felt the fear and grief and anguish in Delenn’s mind, and it unnerved her.

  (Besides, there was something else there, something that knew Lyta was there too.)

  But not all the fear and the grief and the anguish came from Delenn. Rounding the corner, she ran almost smack into Marcus. He had clearly been pacing up and down, and she could sense the concern in his mind. He stepped back from her and nodded his head in what she supposed was an apology. He then stepped aside. She looked at him and smiled. She’d spent a long time perfecting that smile.

  “Satai Delenn is in her normal room,” Marcus said. “Captain Sheridan is with her.”

  “I didn’t come here for Satai Delenn, or for Captain Sheridan.”

  “Oh?”

  “I came here for you. How would you like dinner tonight? I’m not much of a cook, but I’m sure I could manage something.”

  He simply stared. “Miss Alexander…”

  “That makes me feel like a schoolteacher. My name is Lyta, and you are Marcus.”

  “You hardly know me.”

  “Then dinner will be a good chance to get to know you. My quarters at… say… eight o’clock tonight.”

  “I don’t know where your quarters are.”

  She smiled again, and touched his forehead lightly. “Now you do.” She was very unprepared for his reaction. He lunged forward and threw her against the wall, pressing her against it tightly.

  “Never do that to me again!” he snapped. “Never!”

  She looked up into his eyes and her smile faded. A subtle telepathic sting and he recoiled, rubbing at his forehead. It was a momentary burst of pain, and nothing more. “And never do that to me again,” she said. “Unless I ask you to.”

  He looked at her, and there was pain and confusion and querying in his eyes. “Why?” he whispered.

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you ask me to dinner?”

  She smiled again. “You’ll find out when you get there.”

  “Eight o’clock,” he whispered and she nodded. “I’ll be there. And… thank you.”

  She looked at him and caught again the sheer pain that lay behind his eyes. He was almost screaming there. Behind the façade, behind the bodyguard or the warrior, there was an existence simply of pain. Slowly, gently, she reached out to him. He ma
de no gesture, no sound, but instead, seemed to welcome her touch, both physical and mental. She slowly removed her glove and touched his cheek…

  “Ah, Miss Alexander. It is good to see you here early. Your commitment is welcome.” Lyta jumped back as if hit by PPG fire. Starting, she turned around to see Welles standing there. He was simply looking at her, his arms crossed, his expression… patient. “I had not expected you for another three hours, and I would be most interested to learn how you got past Mr. Morishi. But never mind, it is good that you are showing such enthusiasm. Follow me.”

  He swept past her and she looked up at Marcus. Slowly, she replaced her glove, never losing his gaze. The pain and confusion were still there. He looked away sharply. “I’ll be there,” he said again.

  Lyta’s smile as she followed Welles into Delenn’s cell was a very different smile from her usual one. This time there was genuine happiness in it.

  * * * * * * *

  “We cannot ignore the possibility, William,” barked President Crane. “The danger is very real, believe me.”

  “But Madame President,” General Hague replied, knowing that he was doomed even as he began the sentence, “the Narns have proved trustworthy allies in the past. To abandon them now…”

  “Trustworthy, he says!” scoffed Vice President Clark. “They lend us no military assistance, in spite of our aid to them in the war with the Centauri. They sell us weapons at vastly extortionate prices, and only when it suits them to do so. They rule over our people on our colonies, and tax them almost to death. And then they expect our automatic aid whenever they get into a skirmish with the Centauri, or the Tuchanq or the T’llin. If that is your idea of a trustworthy ally, General Hague, I would hate to see your idea of an enemy.”

  “The enemy is the Minbari, as you well know, Vice President, and given a choice between the Minbari or the Narns, I would take the Narns. If it weren’t for their intervention, the odds are we wouldn’t even be here.”

  “That’s as it may be, William,” Crane replied, “but the Centauri may well prove to be better allies. They ask little, and they promise a great deal.”