Although it was exactly the same re-manufactured air in the corridor, it smelled so much better than the air inside the room that she almost skipped with joy. Maybe she was having a reaction to the fresh paint, she thought with a burst of realization. That was probably it. A thing like that might curtail her conference activities.
Just as she was about to stop and catch her breath, a monstrous explosion ripped through the doorway of the conference room, and the concussion hurled her off her feet! The corridor filled with acrid smoke, and alarms and people started shrieking at the same time. It was bedlam in the corridor, and she was nearly trampled by people rushing to see what had happened.
It was finally a security officer who dragged her out of the way and propped her against the wall. “Medical emergency!” he shouted into his link. “Explosion on Green-12, conference room nine! Injuries and possible dead! We need medteams! Bomb squad!”
“The hull is secure!” somebody was yelling. “Everyone just stay calm. This was a localized explosion!”
People ran through the corridor with fire extinguishers, and they shot streams of foam into the smoldering remains of conference room nine. Talia looked down at her sleeve and could see drops of blood, although she wasn’t bleeding. It was somebody else’s blood! The stench invaded her nostrils, and the sirens and voices of the dead and dying split her senses.
Talia covered her ears and screamed! But that scream was more than her mind could accept, and it shut down. The voices stopped, and she toppled over into oblivion.
CHAPTER 10
Talia Winters awoke in her own quarters, lying in her own bed. She was even wearing the thick flannel nightgown that she liked to wear when she was feeling cold or ill. With tremendous relief, she realized that the horrible explosion had been a dream. Conference room nine wasn’t really in flames, and people weren’t dying.
It had been a weird dream, she thought, having Kosh in it, hooded aliens, and a bunch of people she didn’t know. But how much was dream, and how much wasn’t? Was Babylon 5 crawling with telepaths, or was she the only one? What time was it? Where was she supposed to be? As Talia began looking around her tidy quarters, she began to get a sinking feeling, as if she were slipping back into her nightmare.
For one thing, hanging on the closet door was the dress she had worn to the reception the night before. And if that had been real, maybe the budget meeting on Green-12 was real. And if that had really happened … well, it couldn’t have, it was too terrible to contemplate! It was just the sort of thing that her fevered imagination would concoct before a stressful day. She was probably late to her own panels.
Talia started to get out of bed; but something else caught her eye, and she gasped!
Standing perfectly still by the door was Commander Ivanova.
“I can’t believe it,” whispered Ivanova. “I was just about to leave.” She lifted her link to her mouth.
“Wait!” demanded Talia. She sat up in bed and wiped errant strands of blond hair off her face. “What’s happening? Why are you in my room?”
Ivanova took several strides across the small room and sat on the bed beside her to whisper, “Keep your voice down. You’ve got two Psi Cops outside your door, and I think they would as soon kill you as look at you. But there are two of Garibaldi’s people to keep an eye on them. Of course, all four of them are out there to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”
Talia rubbed her eyes and tried to figure out what was happening. She decided to repeat the question until she got an answer. “Ivanova,” she said through gritted teeth, “why are you in my room?”
Ivanova cocked her head. “I volunteered to watch you. I had to see the woman who reportedly killed four Psi Cops and a military liaison.”
Now Talia buried her face in her hands and cried. She tried desperately to wake up again, to leave this nightmare for anything, anywhere else! But she couldn’t conjure up any other visions or memories that would drag her away from this tawdry scene. She was stuck here, and she couldn’t change it.
The commander activated her link. “Ivanova to medlab. Ms. Winters is awake now.”
“Thank you,” said Dr. Franklin. “I’ll be right there.”
“I didn’t kill anyone!” insisted Talia.
“Careful what you say,” warned the officer. “You might want to talk to a counsel before you talk to me. I’ll have to report anything you say to Garibaldi.”
“But I didn’t kill anyone!” Talia wailed.
There was immediate pounding on the door, followed by a booming voice, demanding, “We want to see the prisoner!”
Ivanova shook her head glumly. “You’re in a load of trouble, Talia.”
The telepath slammed her fist into the bed and muttered, “I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t.” She looked up bleary-eyed. “The people who died … was Malten one of them?”
Ivanova shook her head. “Malten came through scot-free. Bombs are weird like that. Everybody who was sitting to the right of Mr. Bester got it. You would’ve gotten it, too, if you hadn’t left the room.”
“That’s crazy!” moaned Talia. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room!”
There was more irate pounding on the door, but Ivanova ignored it. “Actually, the evidence is clear that you did take the bomb into the room. It was hidden in that slim handbag of yours.”
“No!” screamed Talia.
The door banged open, and it was Dr. Franklin fighting his way past two black-suited Psi Cops. “Stay back!” he ordered them. “She’s under my care!”
But one of the black-suited cops burst into the room with the doctor before the door shut. He was a muscular lad, still young, with pimples on his face and a scowl of hatred. “Why did you kill them? Why?”
“Get out of here at once!” snapped the doctor.
The Psi Cop pointed a black-clad finger at Talia. “We’ll do a deep scan on you. We’ll find out why. You know what we do to rogues!”
“Now!” ordered Franklin, balling his hands into a fist.
The young Psi Cop banged the panel to open the door then he stepped out into a din of angry voices. Talia held her hands over her ears and tried to shut them out, but the voices wouldn’t go away until the door finally shut.
Dr. Franklin knelt in front of the frightened woman and looked into her eyes with a small beam of light. She twisted away, still disoriented and hysterical. Finally Talia took a deep breath and told herself that she had to stay calm and face this. She gripped the sleeve of the doctor’s smock, holding it steady so that he could complete his examination.
“I didn’t set off a bomb,” she told the doctor.
“Guess what?” he replied. “It’s not my job to figure what you did or didn’t do. It’s my job to get you well. You were in shock after the bombing, so we sedated you. But physically you appear to be fine. Tell me immediately if you feel any pains anywhere. Otherwise, just get lots of rest. Or as much as they let you.”
Franklin stood up and shrugged helplessly. “Medlab is sort of crazy at the moment, so I had them bring you here. You could go to medlab if you wanted, but you might be more comfortable staying here.”
Talia wrung her hands and looked from Ivanova to the doctor. “Am I under arrest?”
Franklin looked back at the door and frowned. “I wouldn’t expect to be going anywhere real soon.”
He turned back to Talia and said sympathetically, “You rest, get something to eat, and we’ll give you a thorough exam later. I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t disturbed too much. I might be able to keep the newspeople out, but I don’t know about the rest of them.”
Franklin grabbed his bag. “I’ve got to get back to my prize patient.”
“Who is that?” asked Talia.
“Mr. Bester. It’s definite - he will live. Whether any of us in medlab will, with him as a patient, I don’t know.”
Franklin started to the door and turned. “Good luck to you, Ms. Winters. It’s been hell for all of us, but that will be over in a few
days. Your hell is just starting, I’m afraid.”
The angry voices rose a pitch as he opened the door and ducked out, and Talia fought back the temptation to answer them all with a primal scream.
“Wrong,” she muttered. “They’re wrong.”
Ivanova sat on the bed beside her and shook her head in amazement. “I don’t know you all that well, Talia, but I never figured you to be a Martian terrorist.”
Talia half-laughed and half-cried at the absurdity of it. “Is that what they’re saying? I’ve never even liked Mars - a dusty old place with rabbit warrens for cities. All blue-collar, no decent restaurants.”
The telepath suddenly grew very somber. “Listen, I need to talk to the captain or Garibaldi and tell them I’m innocent. I need to clear this up.”
“You need to talk to legal counsel,” said Ivanova somberly. “You need someone to argue for you, and advise you. You’re looking at charges of mass murder, terrorism, and treason. On top of that, the Psi Cops might decide you’re a rogue. If they get custody of you …” She shuddered and couldn’t finish her thought.
Talia started to reach for Ivanova’s hands, but she stopped when she realized that neither one of them were wearing gloves. “Help me,” she begged. “You be my counsel. Command officers can, in an emergency.”
Ivanova leaped to her feet. “I don’t think I can. I wish you well, but I don’t think I can spend weeks on end talking to them. Besides, with charges this serious, defending you could become a career.”
“Please,” begged Talia. “Just until we see what’s going to happen.”
“Why me?” asked Ivanova.
“I need somebody who won’t be afraid of them.”
A firm knock sounded on the door, and the women looked up with a start. “It’s Captain Sheridan,” called a familiar voice. “And Mr. Garibaldi.”
Talia rubbed her eyes and pointed to her closet. “I’ve got a robe in there. And my gloves.”
Before she fetched the robe and the gloves, Ivanova hung up Talia’s evening gown from the night before. It seemed like another lifetime ago, thought the telepath, just those few hours. It was amazing how quickly your life could turn to junk.
Ivanova gave Talia her things with a brave smile. “Just stick to the truth.”
“That’s all I’ve got,” answered Talia, pulling on her gloves. She stood up and pulled off the nightgown, momentarily nude. Ivanova didn’t turn away. Talia slipped on the robe, and knotted it. Then she looked at Ivanova and waited for her to open the door.
Captain Sheridan and Mr. Garibaldi entered, both looking as if they had gone through their own set of traumas. Talia could see and hear the commotion outside the door, and a man in a black uniform was shaking his fist.
Garibaldi growled at them, “You’ll get your chance!”
“Garibaldi!” snapped Sheridan.
Mercifully, the door closed, ending the angry shouts, for the moment. Sheridan and Garibaldi took deep breaths to try to calm themselves, but their anxiety was more unnerving to Talia than the ridiculous charges against her.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, for no particular reason. It was doubtful they had come to rescue her, she told herself.
Sheridan tried to keep his voice even. “Ms. Winters, do you understand what’s happened?”
“I didn’t do it,” she claimed. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room.”
“Well, then,” said Garibaldi, “somebody slipped the bomb into your portfolio. My own forensic people will swear to that. We’ve got the residue of your handbag all over everything.”
“Plus,” said Sheridan, “you ran out just before the bomb detonated.”
Ivanova stepped between them. “Excuse me, Captain, is this an interrogation, or a trial? You have to let her tell her side of it.”
“There’s nothing to tell!” shouted Talia. “I was as surprised as anyone when that bomb went off!”
“Why did you get up and leave the room?” asked Sheridan.
“I didn’t feel well.” Talia frowned, knowing how lame that answer sounded. “It’s the truth.”
“What did you have in your bag?” asked Garibaldi.
Talia shook her head in desperation. “Just some notes and cards, a conference program, a data crystal - nothing unusual!”
“A bomb is highly unusual,” said the captain.
“I didn’t know it was there!”
Garibaldi held out his hands, trying to calm everyone and think at the same time. “There are a lot of things wrong with this,” he declared. “First of all, it was a very small, very sophisticated incendiary device. We think it was of alien design, because we don’t have anything that small that would do that kind of damage, and leave so little trace.”
“Secondly,” he continued, “just moments after the bombing, that Free Phobos group on Mars was claiming credit for it!” We hadn’t released a single word about it, yet some jokers on Mars acted like they had won the World Series. That’s the same group who claimed the hotel bombing last week. They must have known about it, but how?”
“I’m not a terrorist,” Talia insisted. “I don’t even have any connection with Mars!”
Sheridan held up a finger. “Ms. Winters, that’s not entirely true. While he was conscious, Mr. Bester gave us the rundown on Ted Hamilton, your uncle.”
“No!” The telepath balled her hands into fists and slumped onto her bed. It didn’t matter what she said - fate or some terrible power had beaten her to every signpost, turning every one of them to make her look guilty.
“Please,” said Ivanova, “there’s got to be some doubt in your minds! Had she died in the blast, you would have figured she was innocent. But since she had the misfortune to live, you think she’s guilty?”
The first officer continued, very calmly, “Most of us have worked with Ms. Winters for over a year now - has she ever given any indication that she hated Psi Corps enough to blow up a roomful of them? Now, if it had been Garibaldi or me …”
Sheridan cast her a stern glare. “Please, Commander, the well-known animosity of my staff toward Psi Corps isn’t helping matters.”
“But she’s right, Captain,” said Garibaldi. “If Ms. Winters had an uncle who was in the Mars resistance, you never would’ve known it from her. I never heard her talk about Mars.” He smiled at Talia. “Except once, when I asked her to do a favor for me.”
Sheridan scowled. “She wouldn’t necessarily broadcast the fact that she had an uncle who was a terrorist.”
“Okay,” said Garibaldi, “there’s one more thing that’s really strange. We’ve been over the conference room a hundred times, and we haven’t found any remains of a timer or trigger device. So there must’ve been a filament or some kind of microscopic fuse inside the charge, and they must’ve triggered it remotely. But Ms. Winters had only gotten about five meters beyond the room when it blew, and she didn’t have any devices on her. In other words, if she pushed the button, where’s the button?”
“I didn’t push any button!” moaned Talia.
Sheridan shrugged. “If I were the prosecutor on this, I could answer every one of these questions. The fact that this Martian organization already knew about the bombing shows that she had accomplices. So, she planted the bomb, and somebody else detonated it. Or she detonated it, and her accomplice took the device out of her hand while she was lying in the corridor.”
“I didn’t do it,” said Talia firmly. But nobody was listening to her. It was terrible the way they were talking about her as if she weren’t there. As if she were already dead!
Of course, five people were dead, she reminded herself. Five fellow telepaths. She should be out in the corridor, demanding for heads to roll, instead of sitting helplessly on her bed, waiting for her own head to roll. Not only was she in danger of being falsely accused and convicted, but the guilty party was getting away!
She jumped to her feet. “You’ve got to stop them!”
“Who?” asked Sheridan.
“Whoev
er killed those telepaths!”
“Okay, Ms. Winters,” said Sheridan calmly. “I’m getting the distinct impression that you plan to plead not guilty. Which is fine with me.”
Talia lifted her chin and asked, “Are you going to arrest me?”
“We have to,” answered the captain. “Everybody is fighting over jurisdiction of this case. If we don’t arrest you and have the ombuds try you here, then Bester, Earthforce, or somebody will take you away. If you think you’ll stand a better chance with them …”
“No!” snapped Ivanova. “If Psi Corps declares her to be a rogue telepath, they can deal with her however they please - without a trial. We can’t let them have her.”
Talia felt weak in the knees, and she sat down again. More than anything, she just wanted to crawl under her bedcovers and go back to sleep. There had to be some way to exit from this nightmare, if only she could think about it. If only she could remember everything. But it was all such a haze. She hadn’t felt right the entire morning, and she had barely said ten words to anybody. Her presence at that meeting had been superfluous, as Bester had claimed it was. No, that wasn’t it - he had called her a subterfuge.
Apparently, she was a better subterfuge than any of them had imagined. This was what she got for being ambitious and wanting to play with the big boys. She got used. Even now it seemed as if nobody - not her colleagues in the Corps or her neighbors on B5 - really wanted to help her. They had their physical evidence and to hell with her! Somebody had to hang for this.
Talia had to flee from Babylon 5, she decided that moment, and find out who really did this.
“All right, it’s agreed,” said Garibaldi. “We’ll have to arrest you, Ms. Winters. But we’ll keep looking. I want to find that detonator, I want to know who’s on the station from Mars, and I need to talk to all my people who were doing security on Green-12. Maybe you did have an accomplice, even if you didn’t know about it.”
He looked around her crowded quarters. “Sorry, but we can’t leave you here, under house arrest. Bester’s people are irate about it, plus all they’re doing in the corridor is drawing flies. We’ll have to take you to the brig, where we have better control over the situation. I’ll give you five minutes to get dressed and pack a few things.”
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