by Peter David
EXCERPTED FROM THE CHRONICLES OF LONDO MOLLARI. Excerpt dated (approximate Earth date) June 17, 2268. Would that 1 could keep this journal on a regular basis. But I only feet safe making notations such as this one when my "associate" has lapsed into an alcoholic haze. Since I must consume the alcohol needed to accomplish this, it becomes that much more difficult for me to focus on what I am writing. I hope that future generations will be able to translate my handwriting. And I hope the reader will understand, sometimes I have to cover several months at a sitting, to the best that my occasionally strained memory will allow. Senna. I am so proud of her. It did not take her long at all to understand that which I could only hint at. Nor did she ever come back to me, after that veiled conversation , and outright say "You want me to spy on them! You want me to garner information where I can, through whatever means are necessary, and convey it to you! After all, I am 'only' a young girl, presumably looking for a man to whom I could attach myself. And men tend to speak liberally to those females whom they would like to impress." No, she never questioned, but I knew. The way she looked at me at breakfast the next morning, there actually was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. An excitement that bespoke an almost conspiratorial air, as it there was some great secret the two of us shared that neither of us dared speak. I could not guide her, of course. Clever girl, though ... she figured it out all by herself. Even more clever, she waited--took no immediate action. After all, it would have seemed curious if, after treating Throk so coldly, she had abruptly changed her attitude toward him. Throk may have been many things, but fool ish he most definitely was not. Instead she began slowly. It wasn't difficult; Senna and I habitually dined together several times in the course of any week, and naturally Throk was always there. One evening, when Throk deftly refilled a glass of wine for me, Senna said as if Throk was not there-"He's very attentive, isn't he." The remark came out of nowhere. I had a spoonful of food lifted to my lips, but did not consume it. "'He?' " I said. Then I saw her gaze flicker significantly to Throk, and naturally I understood. "Ah. You mean Throk." Throk visibly perked up at that. He quickly covered it-I will credit him that. He was really somewhat masterful at internalizing anything that might betray his thoughts to an observer. "Yet you would think," Senna continued smoothly, "that he would notice I, myself, have no wine at all." "You do not customarily askfor it, Lady Senna," Throk said. "A lady need not ask," she told him primly. "A lady is asked by others." He nodded in acknowledgment of the point and held up the bottle. "Lady, would you care for-" "I thought you would never ask," she said, and laughed very liltingly. And I thought to myself, Great Maker, she was born for this. Then I remembered who her father was-the late Lord Reta-and I realized that, yes indeed, she truly was born for it. Considering her family tree, it was impressive that I had not yet wound up with a dagger between my ribs. Then again, the day was young. Having received her wine, wise girl, brilliant girl ... she paid Throk no more mind. This no doubt convinced the young man that her comment had merely been a passing observation, a slight jest at his expense. The next time we ate together, she actually engaged him in conversation. I was surprised-or perhaps not all that surprised, I suppose-that Throk was a bit more outspoken with Senna than he was with me. After all, any inquiry I made as to his background simply got me a respectfully terse reply. But for Senna, he proceeded to put forward what seemed to be his entire lineage. He boasted of his parents, both of them names that I instantly recognized. Throk was of the House Milita. Milita was a member of Durlab circle of acquaintances , a group who had come to refer to themselves as the New Guard. I knew them, and their type, all too well. They had opposed Emperor Cartagia. . . but always from hiding. Whenever anyone had spoken of actually overthrowing Cartagia, or trying to do something about his insane rule that was destroying all of Centauri Prime, the House Milita-along with any number of others-were the first to be the last. They were eager for a change, but even more eager to allow someone else to do what was needed to implement it. Yes, I knew the type all too well. They only acted when they felt there was no risk of harm to themselves. Which meant that if Throk of the House Milita was being put into position, and others of his ilk were coming in, then they considered the path to be a fairly obstacle-free one. Since I was on that path, I was obviously not considered much of an obstacle. Great Maker help me, they may very well be right. I could, of course, endeavor to change their thinking, make them work harder to achieve their goals. But for the moment, I am content to let matters unfold as I watch. Let them bluster about, those who speak of how Centauri Prime must return to its destiny of greatness. In their hearts, they are bullies, who will only strike against their enemies once they are convinced that they can crush them completely, without any fear of retaliation. Now that I think of it, this might be considered a fairly accurate description of me. Perhaps there is less difference between the new guard and the old guard than any of us would care to admit. So Senna began paying more attention to Throk, and Throk was clearly rather pleased. Not only was Senna an attractive and vivacious individual, but Throk attained a bit more status with his fellow Prime Candidates when he appeared with the "young lady" on his arm. Senna was masterful, managing to keep him at army length while all the time making him think that he was worming his way into her affections. And then periodically she would find ways to convey to me whatever it was she had learned. She would do it in the most casual of ways, saying, "Oh, you will never guess the latest gossip," and tell me in a lighthearted manner all sorts of information that was of varying degrees of use to me. Most of it was of little utility of course. Senna, being young and inexperienced, wasn't really capable of distinguishing what might be truly important. She could not cull the most pertinent information; it simply spilled out, and was left to me to sort it out This kept up for several months, and 1 took it all in. I began to feel like a spider in the middle of a web, watching insects flutter about and trying to determine what might be the tastiest morsel. Recently, for example, she told me something that may be of tremendous use. Something that might very well enable me to manipulate Durla without his realizing it, and might actually enable me to bring Vir back herewith a degree of impunity. I have come to realize just how important Vir is to all of this. I remain surrounded , watched from all sides. With the addition of Throk to my retinue, and Shiv'kala hovering in the shadows, and the keeper attached to me at all times, I am the single most watched individual on all Centauri Prime ... possibly in all the universe. Even for dear Senna, there is only so much that she can do. I need someone from outside, someone who can move about, someone who can provide a lifeline to the outside world. A lifeline. Interesting choice of words, since oftentimes I feel as if I am drowning in silence. No matter. Vir shall come back, be free to come and go as need be ... with Durla's blessing, more's the irony, if I manage this correctly. In a way ... a very small way ... I regret pulling Senna into this morass of subtle espionage. For all her lineage and her teaching, she is still young and naive. But these are fearsome times in which we live, and perhaps I am doing her a favor after all. The sooner she learns to manipulate and deceive, the better chance she'll have of surviving. In fact, if she becomes truly skilled at such things, I might marry her myself. Marry her and then, of course, divorce her. That way she will fit in nicely with my other ex-wives.
Chapter 6 Vir customarily came to the Zen garden on Babylon 5 for thoughtful contemplation. He did not normally stop by for the purpose of having a coronary. Yet, as it so happened, that was nearly what occurred. It used to be that various individuals gave him a wide berth whenever they saw him. He was, after all, Centauri, and that was not a race that had a particularly positive profile with most others. It was, Vir supposed, understandable. After all, when one bombards another race's world into rubble, there's bound to be some fallout. But Galen had been right; Centauri Prime had not replaced him as ambassador. Whether they were throwing him a bone or further punishing him, he could not say. The thing was, Vir had almost become accustomed to his status as an outcast. H
e had grown used to the fact that, although he was supposed to be the Centauri ambassador, he was in fact unwelcome at almost any diplomatic gathering. But then Mariel had entered his life, and things had turned around. Charming, vivacious, Mariel had gathered men to her with greater ease than a sun draws space debris into its orbit. And for a time, Vir had basked in her reflected light. Suddenly it had seemed to him that people looked at him differently, with a new sort of respect . When he passed people in the hall, they smiled, waved, clapped him on the back, and chuckled. Yes, they always chuckled, or laughed, and Vir took this as a sign of pleasure and happiness to see him. They still chuckled and laughed. But now it galled him, for now he knew the truth. Now he knew that Mariel had been making a laughingstock of him, behind his back. When people looked at him, they saw only a fool. Mariel had been around a good deal less lately, which suited Vir just fine. He knew that simply th rowing her out, severing the relationship, would attract not only her attention but the attention of whomever it was she was reporting to ... an unknown "chancellor," he had learned, although he didn't know which one. The thing was, he had been so besotted with her that if he suddenly dispensed with the relationship, she would know something was up. He didn't want to take any chances, so he had settled for arranging to be elsewhere whenever she was around. Naturally, since she simply regarded him as a means to an end, she didn't really care that they kept missing each other. She did keep leaving video messages, clucking about how much she hated that lately they were little more than two ships passing in the night. She's quite the little actress, thought Vir. Still, after months of playing the dodging game, Vir had tired of it. On this particular day, she was scheduled to return from wherever it was she had gone off to, and Vir had no desire to depart Babylon 5, to find somewhere where he could kill time. He was sick of killing time. It was more than that, though. A cold, burning anger was being fueled within him every time another person on Babylon 5 smiled at him and asked how Mariel was. Even people back on Centauri Prime were interested in her. Senna, of all people, had sent him a message just the other day. It had been a chatty, gossipy message, which was odd considering that he couldn't remember the last time she had contacted him. It hadn't even been sent from within the palace; he could tell by the return frequency. It was from some independent, public communications outfit that anyone could walk in and use. "I heard from a friend of a friend that you and Mariel are together," she had said. "How interesting. This friend of a friend told me that Minister Durla rather fancies Mariel himself . So you are quite the lucky fellow, actually getting the better of Minister Durla, because you know, no one ever does." So even on Centauri Prime, where he was persona non grata, they knew of the damnable association. Little did they suspect that Vir's supposed romantic coup had actually cost him terribly. Whatever small bit of standing he might have had remaining to him had been damaged, probably beyond repair. This knowledge made him want to get back at Martel somehow. His upbringing told him that, given the circumstances , disposing of her wouldn't be out of line. Any number of dandy little poisons would suit the occasion perfectly. But he couldn't bring himself to pursue that avenue. It simply wasn't his style. Then again, risking life and limb to destroy a mysterious Shadow base wasn't exactly his style either. Nor was assassinating an emperor, as he had inadvertently done with Cartagia. His style was changing so rapidly that he was having trouble keeping up with it. It was as if another Vir were running on ahead, leaving the original one to gesture helplessly and beg not to be left behind. He wondered what he was becoming, and further wondered if it was anyone, or anything, he was going to like. The Vir Cotto who had first come to Babylon 5 had been, in so many ways, a child. "And all children grow up," he said tonelessly as he sat in the Zen garden, staring down at the sand beneath his feet. "All children save one," came a voice, so close at his shoulder that he yelped. He jumped from the bench and turned to see who had entered so silently that Vir hadn't even heard him. "Galen!" The techno-mage inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment . "The same." "What are you doing here?" "Speaking to you. Your time is drawing near, Vir Cotto. And when it comes, you must be prepared for it." "Prepared for it? Prepared for what?" Vir shook his head with obvious incredulity. "Since techno-mages started advising me, I've had a woman come into my life, embolden me, love me-or pretend she loves me-just to put herself into a position to spy on others. What could I possibly do to prepare myself for that?" "She used you. Everyone uses everyone, Vir Cotto. When you grow up, you will understand that, and be the greatest user of all" "There's something to look forward to," Vir said dourly. Then he frowned. "Who doesn't grow up? You said-" "Peter Pan. A Human boy who refused to grow up, and resided instead in a place called Never-never land ... which you got to by going to the second star on the right, and straight on until morning." "I don't have time for stories," Vir said impatiently. "You must want something. What is it?" Galen rose and began to walk. Automatically, Vir got up and fell into step beside him. "You must return," Galen told him. Vir didn't even have to guess at what he was referring to. "To Centauri Prime." "Yes. There are forces bringing the world forward to a destiny it truly desires. For every action, however, there is an equal and opposite reaction. That is an immutable rule of the universe. You are to be the opposite reaction." "Well, here's another immutable rule: I can't return there," Vir said flatly. "I have contacts there, yes, and I've been getting messages to them, and they to me. But you need someone who can walk about freely, who can move in high circles. I'm not that person" "Yes. You are," said Galen. His eyes sparked with a flintlike precision. "You need to figure out how you can be." "You figure it out. You have all the answers, after all." "No," Galen said softly. "No techno-mage has all the answers." "Really." "Really." Then his lips thinned in what might have been a smile, although Vir couldn't be sure. "We do, however, have all the questions." Vir rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know what you expect of me," he said finally. "You're acting as if I have some real influence. At this point, the only influence I have is through Mariel." "Is she not enamored of you? Would she not aid you?" Vir laughed bitterly at that. "Mariel aids herself. She wouldn't ... she.. . sh. . ." His voice trailed off. An idea was beginning to trickle through him. "Vir Cotto ... T' inquired Galen. "Quiet! " If anyone had told Vir some years back that he would be telling a techno-mage to silence himself, Vir would have thought they were out of their mind. What was even more astounding was that the techno-mage did, in fact, shut up. He cocked his head with slight curiosity, but otherwise seemed more than content to let Vir's train of thought head down the track. Vir was walking slowly, but his mind was leaps and bounds away: A flood of notions rolled over him. He turned quickly, half expecting to find that Galen had disappeared in the same way that his associates did. But Galen was still standing there, cradling his staff, watching Vir with what seemed to be cold amusement. "Can you make her love me?" Galen blinked in a vaguely owlish fashion. "Love." "Yes." "You." "Yes." The techno-mage said nothing at first. He didn't even move. He was so immobile that he might have had some sort of paralysis spell cast upon him, for all Vir knew. "You want to control her," he said at last. Vir nodded. "You want me ... to make her so enamored of you that she will do whatever you ask, whenever and wherever you ask, rather than take the slightest risk of upsetting you." "Exactly," said Vir with grim eagerness. "And you desire this ... why?" "You want me to be able to return to Centauri Prime. I've come to realize that she's the key to it. Londo knew it ... Londo always knows,"Vir said, shaking his head in grudging admiration. "And he got Senna to get word to me, probably because everything he says and does is carefully monitored. That's why she sent it from outside the palace. You would think that that alone would have tipped me off" "You are a fool, Vir Cotto," Galen said softly. "Maybe. But I'm a fool that you need." Vir was not about to let himself be intimidated, even by a techno-mage. "You ask me to make this woman love you. I can do this thing. It is within my power. I can make her love you with such intensity that she will shatter every bone in her body rathe
r than fail you." "I think we can, you know ... avoid anything that will call for self-mutilation." "Indeed." Galen was thoughtful for a moment. "And will you admit to yourself why you have asked me to do this?" "I already told you." "No. No." Galen shook his head. He walked toward Vir then, and Vir was sure it was his imagination, but it seemed to him as if Galen was getting taller, wider, more impressive with every step. "That is what you have told me. The truth of it is, though, that you wish to punish her, and you see me as the instrument of that punishment. You do not wish simply to use her. You wish to humiliate her for your own personal satisfaction . It is unworthy of you, Vir Cotto." "You're wrong," Vir said tightly. "And I don't understand you. You people, you techno-wages ... you always talk in vague, prophetic, mystical, oblique ways. You don't stand there and psychoanalyze people right down to exactly why you think they do things." "I save obliqueness for matters of galactic import," retorted Galen. "When I speak of foolish actions and foolish individuals, I tend not to talk in subtext. What is the matter, Vir Cotto? Was I too on-point for you?" "You were wrong, that's all." "So you say. And so you will keep saying, probably to your grave." Galen sighed softly. "Very well, since it is the end we desire, I shall provide you with the means that you desire. But when you do return to Centauri Prime ... it will be with this." He held out his hand barely an inch from Vir's face, and there was a flash of light that made Vir jump back. At that, he saw Galen's face register grim satisfaction. Then Vir frowned as he saw a triangular, black device in Galen's palm. He couldn't be sure, but the way the light played across it, it seemed to be shimmering. "What is that?" he asked. "Shadow technology," Galen told him. "Defies detection by any and all sensory devices you would care to name. Once you have returned to Centauri Prime, as you walk around the palace , o r anywhere on the planet, this will supply readings that will inform me of Shadow technology on your Homeworld. The detection range is, unfortunately, limited-Shadows hide themselves quite well. So you will have to be on top of the Shadow tech for this device to work." "And how will I tell you what I find?" "You will not. The device will. Wear it anywhere on your person, and it will do the rest. And this," his hand flashed again, this time revealing a cylinder inside a small case no larger than Vir's thumbnail, "will enable me to contact you during the hunt. Insert it into your ear before you arrive on Centauri Prime. It will be undetectable. You won't be able to communicate with me, but I will be able to tell you where to explore if there are any readings that elicit further inspection." Vir took the cylinder, tucked it into his pocket, then turned the triangle over in his hands. "You're looking for hard evidence that there are Drakh on Centauri Prime." "We know they are there, Vir Cotto. What we do not know is how pervasive their presence is." "Why can't you look for yourselves?" "We have our reasons." "How did I know you were going to say that," Vir said sourly. "So tell me if there are Drakh and they find me with this thing on me ... what will they do?" "Almost certainly, they will kill you." Vir sighed heavily. "How did I know you were going to say that, too?" "If they do kill you, Vir Cotto ... you can take solace in one thing." "Oh, really? What would that be?" Galen smiled mirthlessly. "Mariel will mourn for you quite spectacularly." And with that, he turned and left, his long coat sweeping across the floor and yet, oddly, stirring up none of the gravel that lay about. Vir had consumed half a bottle of liquor when she arrived. The damning thing about looking at Mariel was that, every time he did so, he desperately wanted to put aside all that he knew about her. He wanted to believe once again that, when she looked at him, he was all that mattered in her mind and hearts. That he wasn't simply some tool, a buffoon she was manipulating as adroitly as she manipulated everyone. He couldn't do so, however, and he fancied that-despite all her skill in covering what was going through that scheming mind of hers-he could now see the duplicity in her eyes. "Vir!" she said quite cheerily as she placed her bags in the quarters that they had been sharing for nearly a year. "Vir, you're here!" "Vir, Vir, Vir is here," he echoed, sounding more drunk than he had realized. Some of the words were slurred. "It has been ages, darling," she said, and she reached down, took his chin in her hands and kissed him lightly. Vir wondered when Galen was going to put the spell on her. Then he looked into her eyes, really looked ... and she was looking back at him in a most curious manner. It seemed to him, as paradoxical as it sounded, that her eyes were misting over and clearing at the same time. As if ... as if she was seeing him for the first time . . . but seeing him only under very specific circumstances. Great Maker, Vir thought, he already got to her- And then she lay down on the bed beside him, began to do things to him. Extraordinary things, and he felt as if he was having an out-of-body experience. Sensations pounded through him that he lad only experienced in the vaguest of ways, in the most nebulous of dreams, and never did he think that there was anything like that in real life. Mariel was everywhere, and he twisted and turned, actually trying to get away from her, but it was impossible. There was no holding her back, no holding himself back. His entire body pounded as ifthere were too much blood in his limbs. "I love you,"she whispered in his ear, over and over again- "My dear, my sweet. . " He tried to push her away, but he couldn't muster any strength. He felt as if his mind was overloading, and finally desperation gave him power He shoved Mariel off before it could go any fihrther, and rolled off the bed. Scrambling backward to the nearest chair, he hauled himself onto it and looked at her, still curled up on the bed, now half naked. Her luminous eyes were full of love, and she started to move toward him once more. "That's enough," he said. "Just... stay right there. Okay?" She looked up at him, stricken. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I'm sure" He stood and tried to pull his disheveled clothes together into some semblance of orderliness. It was everything he could do to focus on what was right and proper, given the situation. And part of his mind sneered at him and said, Right and proper? You asked a techno-mage to brainwash the woman into loving you, justtifying a petty revenge by claiming that it will end up benefiting Centauri Prime. You might as well take adwantgge of what she 's of fering you. You deserve it, and she'll delight in it. But as quickly as that suggestion echoed through his mind, he blocked it out. Was she truly brainwashed? She didn't have a vacant, thought-expmged expression. That had been a concern ... that she would become vapid, mindless. He could see, though, that it wasn't the case. All the canniness, all the intelligence, all the craftiness that he had come to see and understand was still part of her-all of that was still intact. That came as something of a relief, because otherwise she would be useless to him... ... useless ... to him ... He pushed that thought from his mind, as well, for he didn't like what it said about him. Yes, the intelligence was there, but the overwhelming emotion that radiated from her was pure adoration. He hadn't planned for what had happened earlier. Some part of him had found it hard to believe that the techno-mage could actually do as he said he would. When Mariel first went for him, a part of him still thought it might be some sort ofprank. But the intensity of her fervor had swiftly disabused him of that notion. He felt dirty. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't. That, of the two of them, Mariel was by far the one with far filthier hands. This was a woman who had used sex and raw emotion as weapons, mere tools in her arsenal. She wasn't deserving of the slightest dreg of pity for having those tools turned back against her. Indeed, she had gotten off lightly, for she didn't know that that was what had happened to her. Then again, it might be that it was her very lack of understanding that made the whole business so repellant to Vir. He had had no intention of bedding her, no matter how tempting the prospect seemed. He had instead planned to keep her at arm's length, make her feel some of the agony, the unrequited emotion he had experienced. Certainly the notion had seemed most attractive when he'd first conceived it. Yet now he was repulsed by its very essence. He had to seek out Galen, get him to remove the spell. Restore her to normal so that she could. .. So that she could tear him down again. Lampoon him, spread rumors about him, and make him even more ineffective than he already was. He stared at her. It was exactly a
s Galen had said; clearly the woman was ready to destroy herself lest she disappoint him. A far cry, certainly, from what the conniving bitch had been mere hours before. His hearts hardened against her, and if he didn't like the way he felt at the moment ... Well . . . he would feel differently tomorrow. "Do you not want to enjoy me, Vir, my love?" she whispered. "Shall I not show you how much I love you?" The answer to both questions was yes, but with a determination and strength of will he did not even know he possessed , he managed not to answer truthfully. Instead he said, "I'm sure it would be a really okay experience . . ." "Just okay?" Her disappointment was palpable. "Let me show you. Let me erase whatever doubts you might have and provide you with boundless-" "What I want you to do . . . is not touch me for a while." "Not . . . touch you?" "That's right." She looked stricken. "Not caress you? Not feel your firm flesh beneath my fingers? Not take your wiggling-" "None of that," Vir told her. "There's, uhm . . . there's a lot of things I have to take care of for a while. I need to focus, and I can't be distracted by, uhm . . . romantic liaisons. So I need you to keep your distance" "My distance? My . . ." He shot her a look and she seemed to wilt. Very quietly, she said, "All right, Vir. If that is what will make you happy, then it will make me happy. I live for your happiness" She paused, and then said, "Shall I stay away from you at the party tomorrow?" " Party.?ff "The reception. For the Delgashi ambassador . . ." "Ohhhh, right. Right" He hadn't paid attention to the social calendar, since he had been planning, until fairly recently, to be gone from Babylon 5 for a while. "No, you should not stay away from me at the party. In fact . . ." He started warming to the topic. This was the reason, he remembered, that he had Galen perform his little miracle. ". . . in fact, you'll in fact, you'll show up on my arm . . . and be openly adoring and when you work the room and talk to other ambassadors, you're going to tell them how great I am. How intelligent, how . . . how . . ." His mind raced, and then he said, ". . . how . . . everything I am. All my positive attributes." "All of them? That could take a very long time, my love. We might be at the party much later than you had previously anticipated." "That'll be fine," Vir replied, settling into the chair. "With any luck, we'll have all night and into the next morning. I can trust you to do this, Mariel? Because it's very important." Mariel looked as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Her reaction was so extreme that Vir wondered for a moment if she were being seized by some sort of fit. When she managed to pull some air back into her lungs, she said, "I will be worthy of it, Vir. Worthy of it. . . and you." "That would be fine." "Would you like me to ... T' She raised herself from the bed and motioned significantly for him. "No. No, that's quite all right," he said quickly, ba cking up and nearly toppling the chair as a result. "Just stay right where you are." "Very well, my love." She arranged the blanket delicately around herself and sat there, perfectly still. Her eyes still large, she regarded him with open curiosity. "Would you not be more comfortable over here, my love?" She patted the bed next to her. "No. Nooooo, no. No, I'm fine right here," Vir replied. "Comfy COZY." "All right, Vir." She lay back down, but that adoring stare remained fixed upon him, and he watched until the lateness of the hour got the better of her. Her eyes closed slowly, but inexorably , in slumber. Vir was left alone in the room, and told himself that he had achieved some measure of revenge this night. That he had managed to take back some of that which had been taken from him. By morning, the pain in his lower back also had something to say about it from a night spent upright in the chair. Mariel, however, was still asleep, and he watched the steady rising and falling of her breasts with a sense of wonder. "What have I done?" he whispered, and for a moment he half hoped that Galen would magically appear, to answer the question. But instead there was simply her slow inhaling and exhaling, and the sound of his hearts pounding against his rib cage. The reception could not have gone better, even in Vir's wildest dreams. Mariel was her usual, animated self. No living soul could have detected any change in her demeanor and deportment ... right up until she slapped the Drazi ambassador's aide. Vir didn't see it happen, because his back was to the incident . He was standing at the bar, pouring another healthy draught. He was amazed, not for the first time, at how his alcoholic intake had jumped ever since he had taken over Londo's position as ambassador. Only a few years ago one drink alone would have been enough to reduce Vir to near incoherence . Two would have knocked him cold and left him with a roaring hangover the next morning. Now it seemed he had to drink several times his old levels just to feel any sort of pleasant numbness. Behind him, he heard a fairly constant stream of chatter, which was customary for such gatherings. And then, with the suddenness of a blast from a PPG, he heard the unmistakable sound of palm across flesh. He turned, partly out of sheer curiosity and partly out of boredom, for no one had been going out of his way to strike up a conversation with him. He'd even been considering just calling it an early evening. He almost dropped his glass when he realized that the origin of the strike had been none other than Marie]. She was facing the aide to the Drazi ambassador, and her cheeks were brightly flushed with anger. The aide was gaping at her with undisguised astonishment. "How dare you!" Mariel said, and she was making no effort to keep her voice down. There wouldn't have been much point, really. The sound of the slap had been more than enough to capture the immediate attention of everyone in the room. "How dare you speak so insultingly!" "But you ... he ... Drazi not understand!" babbled the hapless aide, and Vir immediately knew what the problem was. This was unquestionably one of the many individuals to whom Mariel had spoken so disparagingly of Vir in times very recently past. Yet now she must have been singing his praises, as ordered, and the sudden change in her attitude had caught the Drazi-and no doubt whoever else was nearby him-completely off guard. Immediately, trying to head off any kind of major confrontation , Captain Elizabeth Lochley stepped subtly but firmly between Mariel and the Drazi. "Is there a problem here?"the B5 station commander asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned to Mariel, and added, "I don't take kindly to physical assaults upon diplomats. Well, on anyone, actually , but diplomats in particular," she amended. "Diplomatic incidents and little things like wars tend to develop from such unfortunate encounters. Care to tell me what provoked this?" "He did," Mariel said immediately. "With his snide comments about Vir." "You yourself said-" the confused Drazi started to protest. "I myself? What does it matter what stupid things I may have said in the past?" she asked rhetorically. "What matters is the here and the now. And the simple fact is that Vir Cotto is the best man ... the best ambassador ... the best lover. . Vir colored slightly at that, then noticed the newly respectful stares coming from everyone within earshot which at that point was pretty much everyone. This eased his discomfort quite quickly. He even squared his shoulders and nodded in acknowledgment of his newly announced status. ". . . the best everything," Mariel continued. "I will not stand by and see him insulted. He is my love, he is my life." She went to him then and ran her fingers under his chin in a teasing, loving fashion. Vir smiled and bobbed his head affectionately while, at the same time, trying not to feel chilled to the bone. She deserved it, she had it coming, just keep telling yourself that. He couldn't tell whether his conscience was buying it or not. Lochley led the Drazi away, and for the rest of the evening the various diplomats and ambassadors seemed to be reevaluating Vir. It was a delicate game. After all, they didn't know that he knew the damage Mariel had done to him. So naturally they tried not to let on, endeavoring to get a feel for Vir without letting him realize that they were doing so. Vir, of course, could tell immediately, and was doing all that he could not to let on that he knew. It was a bizarre sort of shadow dance, and Vir couldn't help but wonder how in the world he had been led onto the dance floor. It finally reached a point where Vir couldn't stand it anymore . Rather than listen to Mariel extol his many virtues one more time, Vir excused himself and bolted into the corridor. He simply needed some distance, some time ... and some firm conviction that what he had done was going to pay off in the long run. His theory
was quite simple: if Mariel could be so convincing with the members of assorted races, how much more likely would she be in handling members of her own species? Which meant that if he could get Mariel to start talking to the right people on Centauri Prime, he would be making his triumphant return in no time. The problem was still that he was going to have to figure out who the "right people" were. Londo was definitely not among them. He had, after all, been married to her. She'd been responsible for nearly killing him ... "accidentally" utilizing a booby trap that she had purchased on Babylon 5. He had divorced her, for heaven's sake. So Vir was quite sure that Londo would be immune to her charms. And Londo had spent a good deal of his life-usually when he was fairly inebriated-regaling people with horror stories of what his wives had been like. The thing was, Vir was quite certain that the great court even the Centaurum itself ... was being taken over by new, young, aggressive individuals. They brought with them a large degree of arrogance and self-certainty. Women were not held in tremendous regard within the Centauri power structure , and there was only a handful of exceptions. So no one was likely to consider Mariel a threat. It was that very lack of consideration that Vir could turn into an advantage. Still when he considered what she had become ... what he had turned her into. . . "Second thoughts?" The question originated right at Vir's elbow, and he was so startled that he was positive his primary heart had stopped. Galen was standing there, looking at him grimly . . . and even a bit sadly. Vir automatically looked right and left, as if he were in the midst of a clandestine meeting. No one appeared to be coming, and Vir had a nasty suspicion that Galen had only shown up because there was no one around to see them together . At that moment, however, he didn't much care. "How did you do it?" Vir asked immediately, without preamble. "Do it?" Galen raised a mocking, nearly invisible eyebrow "You mean stir her dedication?" "Yes." "I spoke to her." "You spoke to her." Vir wasn't following. "What did you say?" "Fourteen words. It takes fourteen words to cause someone to fall in love." Vir wasn't quite sure he was hearing properly. "That's . . . that's it? Fourteen words? I thought . . . I figured there was some sort of device or something . . . gimmicks . . . technomageish things that reordered her mind or . . . fourteen words? Only fourteen?" "As with all things in life," Galen told him, "it is quality, not quantity that matters." "If you . . . that is to say, if I . . ." Vir wasn't quite sure how to considered. Children have a rhyme: `Sticks and stones shatter bones, but names can never hurt you.' They are children. What know they of the truth of things? "You will always be her greatest priority, Vir. She will be able to function perfectly well in all capacities ... but your well-being and interests will remain her paramount importance." There was something in his voice, a tone, which was unmistakable . "You disapprove;" Vir said after a moment. "You did what I asked you to. . . but you disapprove." "1 think ... I liked you better when you stammered more. You had more charm." Galen gave that same chilling smile. "What you have done ... what I did ... was nothing less than robbing the woman of free will." "And what she did to me? What was that?" demanded Vir. "Ahhhh . . ." The exhale came from him in a manner that sounded almost like relief. "And there it is, finally as I said. You operate out of your injured vanity. That was your motivator." "You didn't answer my question," said Vir, raising his voice slightly, but still keeping it at a respectful level. The last thing he wanted to do was get Galen angry with him, and speaking in a disrespectful tone might do exactly that. "When she had her free will, she used it to injure me, manipulate me. Is what I did to her. . . what I had you do to her ... as bad as that? " "No." "You see? That's exactly the poin-" "It's worse," he said, as if Vir hadn't spoken. Vir had no answer to that, but merely scowled. "Would you like to know the single greatest tragedy here?" "Could I stop you from telling me if I wanted to?" Vir replied. As if Vir hadn't spoken, Galen said, "Even I cannot create love from nothing. There had to be feelings, emotions already present. An ember that I could fan to full flame. Despite what you may have thought, Vir Cotto ... the woman did feel something for you. Something deep and true. Given time, the feeling might actually have been genuine. But you will never know." "I don't want to know. Love isn't high on my priority list right now," Vir told him with a bit more harshness than he would have liked ... and more fervency than he truly believed . "In fact, considering the road ahead of me, I doubt I'd want it, or know what to do with it if I had it." "Then perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps there are twin tragedies this day." Once again, Vir said nothing. "Good luck, Vir Cotto. You will need it," Galen said. He turned and walked off, rounding the corner of the hallway. "Wait!" said Vir, heading after him. "I still want to know what--~' But when he followed Galen around the corridor edge, he discovered-to his utter lack of shock-that Galen was gone. By that point, he was becoming quite accustomed to the abrupt comings and goings of techno-mages ... which wasn't to say that he was especially thrilled by them.
