2257 (Three Years Ago)
I can't believe this damned mess is almost over, Lisa Collins thought as the defendant was escorted into the courtroom, heavily bound, by a pair of guards. This was the final day of the trial of Carson MacFarlane, the "Boston Mindfragger." And what an embarrassment for the Corps it had been. To be sure, Collins herself had been portrayed in the media as a hero to rival the fictional psi cop John Trakker for her role in apprehending the criminal. But the exposure of the cover-up, and the sheer number of mundanes this man had executed was the worst kind of publicity.
The interplanetary headlines were bad enough, but things were worst locally. In Boston it seemed like mundanes were on the verge of forming the sort of angry, fearful mobs that had not been seen since telepathy had first been discovered. At least when the guilty verdict was finally rendered the situation would calm down.
It was awful to see any telepath at the mercy of mundanes. As much as Lisa was disgusted by what MacFarlane had done, he was still one of their own. It should have been handled within the Corps. The entire situation had spiraled too far out of control for that, unfortunately. The mundanes wanted their pound of flesh, and for once they would get it.
For a moment Collins considered the Narn, who also was seated in the front row, just a few seats away and behind the prosecuting attorney. He sat there clutching the Book of G'Quan, that horribly empty look still in his eyes. Lisa almost regretted that she had found him in time to undo his mental damage and save his life. Since the Mindblanker had killed his family and stolen his memories, the Narn had been dead to the world. Collins was not quite capable of feeling empathy for a mundane, let alone an alien, but she did feel responsible for his condition and regretted it.
As for the Mindblanker himself, he sat as calmly as if waiting for a shuttle, hardly three meters away. Lisa suspected he would be sentenced to death. Not the standard death of personality, but actually executed. No one had been able to get a handle on his unusually strong telepathic abilities. And even under sleepers he was somehow able to resist any scan. There was no way to tell if a new personality could be put in place. For that matter, there was no way to recover the Narn's lost memories and restore them to him. Lisa was not even sure why that was suddenly important to her, but she realized that it would have helped her find better closure to the case.
Lost in her thoughts, she was drawn back to the present by the voice of the judge. "Will the foreman of the jury please read the verdict?"
A man in the jury box stood. "We find the defendant, Carson MacFarlane, guilty on all counts." A low murmuring among the crowd prevented the foreman from going on to list the charges, and the judge banged his gavel, trying to bring the room back to order.
At that moment Lisa felt as if a strange fog were descending on her perceptions. She instinctively began to block mentally as if she were fighting off a scan, and the room came into better focus. MacFarlane, who was already standing to receive sentencing, suddenly turned and faced the spectators of the trial. His guards did not even react to this.
"This has been terribly fun to watch, but I really must be going now. So much to do, so little time to do it in. Good night."
To Lisa's horror, everyone in the entire courtroom except herself and the Mindblanker simply collapsed. But the sleepers??? Even her shock that MacFarlane had somehow avoided taking or resisted the sleepers paled in comparison to the simultaneous collapse of over fifty people. Whether they were dead or merely unconscious, affecting so many minds at once should have been impossible.
Collins tried to rise from her seat and draw her PPG. She did so, but far slower than she had intended to. As far as she could tell her blocks were perfectly intact, but somehow she was losing control of her body. MacFarlane turned to her and regarded her as if she were some form of strange insect he had not seen before.
"Ah, Ms. Collins. I am so happy that you came today. That little trick you pulled with the sleeper dart that led to my incarceration was most inconsiderate."
Lisa had finally brought her PPG up. It was pointed straight at MacFarlane. She willed herself to pull the trigger, but nothing happened. She wanted to scream in frustration and fear, but realized she could not move at all.
"My friend has finally developed a resistance to your drugs. How fortunate it is that I can continue with my work." Lisa had no idea what the lunatic was talking about, but did not care. She was focused on what she suspected would be her very last telepathic battle, trying to regain control of her hand. "And now, I thank you for all you have done for me."
Lisa felt the mental impulse, actually an attack from the Mindblanker, that told her arm to move the PPG up to her head, and she fought it with a strength born of desperation. Somehow she blocked it, but her arm began trembling. At any moment it would start moving, and bring the muzzle of the PPG to her temple.
Damn it I'm a P12, I'm a P12 and-spent-a-year-training-as-a-mindshredder-I-should-be-able-to-stop-him-whycan'tIstophimI'maP12- As she approached panic, Lisa finally managed to make a single mental attack.
Pain. MacFarlane had been expecting just such an attack and would have been able to block it easily. However, Lisa had not attacked her assailant, she had attacked herself.
An unbelievable wave of fire swept across her nervous system. For a moment Lisa was aware of nothing but the pain. Her entire body shuddered, and just as she lost control of her limbs her hands began to spasm. The PPG fired a single shot before it tumbled from her grip. The blast of superheated helium struck Carson MacFarlane directly in the chest. Collins, her weapon, and the dying criminal all dropped to the floor.
For a moment Lisa Collins lay silently, curled almost into fetal position and shuddering slightly. Good plan, maybe next time I'll ease up on the pain thing a little, she thought in a barely coherent fashion. Dimly she was thankful she had gone to the bathroom only a short time ago, otherwise she was sure she would have ruined her uniform.
Finally, Lisa got up to her knees, grabbed the low railing and with effort peered over it to where the Mindblanker had been standing. He was lying motionless on the ground. His chest was still rising and falling, but given the severity of the wound that was not likely to last.
She could have let it go there. Just ignore him as he silently died. But the way her mind had been violated infuriated her. Collins had been a psi cop for so long, and gone through such intensive training to prevent such an occurrence, that she had simply forgotten what it was like to have someone casually break open her defenses and leave her in such a helpless state. It was a lesson the Corps had taught her as a child, but apparently she had not retained it well.
As her telepathic senses reasserted themselves, she realized that the mundanes in the room were still alive, although unconscious. This included the Narn. As terrible as what had just happened to her was, Lisa's thoughts again turned to the alien. His suffering had been far worse, and he would likely never recover. The poor creature would never even remember the family he had lost. Lisa tried to imagine having a family, and then staring at a picture of them and seeing only strangers. Would the Narn go home and ask forgotten friends what sort of people his family had been? What he himself had been like? Or would he just give in to despair, perhaps take his own life?
No. It's not going to be that way. I'm not going to let it be that way! Collins knew it was a terrible gamble, hoping that MacFarlane would be weakened enough by his approaching death that she could mentally overpower him. A part of her balked. Was she really going to risk her life to help a mundane? If she could steal back the Narn's memories from the dying man in front of her, she could snatch back one life that the Mindblanker had taken from the universe. Somehow, that made the risk seem worthwhile.
Lisa Collins began what was commonly known as a deathbed scan, and felt herself descending into hell.
This was Lisa's second deathbed scan, and she remembered the first quite well. There was a dying victim of an incredibly violent assault, and someone was needed to go inside the victim's mind to find out who the murderer was. Lisa knew such scans were unpleasant to perform, but she was eager to do her duty for the Corps and volunteered freely.
What she experienced was very unpleasant, but at least there was nothing too unexpected. She saw herself standing with the victim in a child's bedroom. Such an odd image by itself was not necessarily remarkable. One fact every telepath learned early on was that the mind often saw telepathic input in symbolic ways.
From an evolutionary standpoint, telepathy was brand new, and to interpret it the human mind was forced to put it in more familiar contexts. A hostile mental attack might be "seen" in the mind as a sword, while an attempt to block a scan might cause one to see a protective cocoon. The symbols were just that, however. Anyone who believed the sword in the mind's eye was a physical object would certainly fail to defend against it correctly.
What was seen in the mind could certainly seem real enough, however. Collins reached out and touched a poster of an old rock band on the wall, and she could feel the glossy texture.
"Man, I can't believe I used to listen to those guys," the victim said ruefully. He was sitting on the edge of the small bed, clearly apprehensive.
"Sorry, I don't know them. I didn't listen to a lot of music when I was young," Lisa said. "This was your bedroom?"
"Yeah. I remember when I was real little I used to be scared there was a monster in the closet." He nodded toward the door.
Lisa instantly recognized the door to the closet as the liminality: the representation of the victim's approaching death. The symbol of the door was a fairly common one. Some might see it as a passage to some sort of afterlife, not that Collins believed in anything like that. Regardless, death could be seen as boundary, as passing from what is known to what is unknown. In that context it was no surprise that the mind often manufactured a door to represent it.
"Are you going to stay here with me?" the victim asked. His eyes pleaded desperately for any comfort.
"Sorry, I'm just here for some information."
"So I'm getting scanned. A shame, I'd hoped you were one last fantasy my mind was cooking up. You've got the most beautiful brown eyes. I could get lost in them."
Lisa shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "It's a bit late to be thinking about those sorts of things. But you said 'last.' So you know what is happening."
"Yes." His eyes darted to the closet, but then quickly shifted away.
"Could you tell me who killed you?"
"Sit down, please." He patted the bed next to him with his hand.
Lisa could sense time was growing short, so she did not bother to argue. He took her hand, and Lisa fought down the urge to pull away. The gesture represented their minds drawing closer, and while this was frightening it would also give her a little extra time to coax more information out of him.
"Thank you," he said.
"Tell me who did this to you, please. There's not a lot of time."
The victim shuddered. "It was Fatty Simon."
Lisa saw an all too clear image of the snarling face, and felt the knife as if it were penetrating into her own flesh again and again. "What a terrible way to die," she said quietly. Dwayne "Fatty" Simon was a thug local law enforcement had been trying to get off the streets for a while. This brutal murder would get him a death of personality for sure.
"It's not so bad with you here, gorgeous." His attempt at charm did not do much to mask his growing fear, however. "Ha, look at me, flirting with you. That's what got me killed, I guess, playing the field. Fatty must have found out I was sleeping with his sister. He never did like me."
"No, I suppose he didn't like you very much." Collins told him. She was still shaken by this man's memory of his own murder.
"The last thing I saw was Fatty throwing the knife into the trunk of a hoverlimo. Probably Cordell's."
A major player like Cordell being involved upped the stakes a bit. "I know you mundanes get really squeamish about this sort of thing, but I don't suppose you'd mind me picking your brain for a few details on your career? Our connection is too tenuous for me to do it unless you let me."
The closet door opened a crack. "Only if you keep holding my hand." The man sounded more like a child than an adult when he said it.
In the last few seconds she had remaining, Collins rifled through the memories of the now unguarded mind of the murder victim, picking up everything she could on his connections with Fatty Simon and Cordell. She found leads that would break open several stalled investigations.
The dying man stood, and Lisa rose, still holding his hand. "I'm not too proud of my life. I guess I've done a few bad things... now I have to meet the monster for it."
He released Lisa's hand as the door swung open. There was blood on the floor now, leaking out from the closet. Collins was sure the victim was not feeling very optimistic about the afterlife, and she did not want to see in what terrible way his guilty conscious interpreted crossing the threshold of the liminality. She heard his last scream in her mind as she broke their connection.
Lisa's first thought as she stepped into Carson MacFarlane's mind was that her first deathbed scan had been child's play. She found herself standing on desolate landscape of a dead, alien world. There was nothing but dirt and rock in every direction. Gasping, Collins realized the air was not breathable. She fell to her knees and clawed at her throat.
It's an attack. But as soon as she had the thought she realized it was wrong. MacFarlane was not deliberately attacking her. His mind was just so foreign and disturbing that she could hardly tolerate it. With an effort she stood and began breathing again. It took great concentration just to convince herself that she was not suffocating on the surface of a distant planet, though with time it was growing easier.
She saw a black speck flying in the distance, which as it approached resolved itself into an alien vessel. Or at least she thought it was supposed to be some sort of ship. It was like nothing she had ever seen, floating with no visible propulsion, all mottled black, and with several large spikes poking out of its surface. The shape was reminiscent of a spider, or perhaps a crab. Quite an imagination this clown has, Lisa thought glibly, but on another level there was something disturbing about the image.
A terrible shriek filled the air, or perhaps the sound was entirely in her mind. Regardless it shook her to the core. Lisa's nerve broke and she simply panicked, fleeing away from the ship as fast she could.
After what seemed like an eternity, Collins ducked into an outcropping of rock and hid. Gradually she regained her wits. Although it seemed that a lot of time had passed in the mindscape she had entered, she knew in real world very little time had gone by or else MacFarlane would already have died. Behind her she saw the outcropping actually led into a cave, and knew instinctively that proceeding into it would allow her to confront the Mindblanker directly.
The cave was dark, although there was barely enough light to see by, emitted by no source Lisa could discern. She could not tell if the underground passage was supposed to be natural or artificial. There were occasional side passages and divergences in her path, but she proceeded unerringly to where she had to go. Occasionally, she dimly made out alien writing carved into the rock, of no language she recognized.
Finally, she heard the instantly recognizable voice of the killer call out. "Every time they are driven off this world, they return. They pay their respect to him, but he will not answer. He simply hides, in caves very much like this one. They don't understand why he won't support their grand design for our galaxy."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, MacFarlane. Come on out so we can talk." She drew her PPG from her belt, which in reality represented readying her mind for the coming telepathic conflict.
Lisa stepped out into a wider area of the cave, lit by a small fire blazing in its center. Behind the fire stood MacFarlane, apparently unarmed. There was no sign of the liminality yet, so perhaps Lisa had more time that she had originally thought.
As she took a step forward and aimed her weapon, the ground beneath Lisa seemed to come alive. Short tentacles formerly made of dirt rapped themselves around her ankles. She tripped and the PPG flew from her grip. Once again, Collins was defenseless before the Mindblanker. Brilliant. If there were any witnesses to this I'd make the Darwin Awards for sure.
"You are a fool, Ms. Collins. I cannot die under their protection. Evolution will-" Suddenly, a look of horror crossed MacFarlane's face, and he looked around wildly as if seeing something Lisa could not. "No, you can't leave me! I did everything you said! No, please!" He screamed in her mind and at once his incredible telepathic power diminished to almost nothing. Lisa stood casually and the things gripping her ankles dissolved into dust.
As she retrieved her firearm newer, longer tentacles appeared. This time they surrounded MacFarlane, gripping him and beginning to pull him into the ground. Lisa realized in shock that the entire floor of the cave was the liminality. She knew the unusual size of the liminality image meant it was more dangerous to her own mind, and that she had to leave almost immediately or risk being drawn to the other side herself.
Still she had come here for purpose. Lisa pointed the PPG at MacFarlane. "The things you stole. Show me."
"No, they are mine! He gave them to me!"
Lisa put her talent in Mindshredding to use. The image in her mind was only of herself firing the PPG at MacFarlane. In fact, blood vessels were exploding in his brain as his body lay on the floor of the courtroom. With his consciousness mostly destroyed, what was left of MacFarlane's memories was laid bare. The stolen memories looked like a group of refugees who had suddenly appeared, huddling in a corner of the cave. As the tentacles seemingly dragged MacFarlane down to hell, Lisa raced over to the images of MacFarlane's victims and grabbed the arm of one that looked like the surviving Narn. At that moment the Mindblanker finally died and the imaginary world of his mind disappeared.
Lisa abandoned his mind and returned to reality, realizing there was a terrible pain in her back. It faded quickly and she assumed it was just her nervous system sending erroneous signals due to her earlier attack on her own mind, or her close brush with the liminality.
Of more concern were the memories of the Narn. It was almost too much information to hold, and Lisa felt as if her mind would burst with the strain. She had no idea how MacFarlane had contained not one but dozens of these sets of memories. Thousands of images flashed through her mind at a rate too great to understand, an entire lifetime of important moments.
The Narn had apparently regained consciousness while she had been in the Mindblanker's head. He was fearfully trying to rouse a man who had been seated next to him by poking his arm lightly. "Hello? Is anyone awake?" He had not yet noticed Lisa stirring.
Lisa crawled over toward the Narn, her back still hurting from whatever the phantom pain had been. He noticed her shortly before she gripped his wrist. An entire lifetime of memories left her like a bursting dam. The Narn screamed and fainted due to the shock of absorbing so much information at once, but Lisa was certain all the memories had gotten through. She finally passed out from the enormous strain she had put on her system, and the last thing she heard for a long time was shouting voices approaching the courtroom.
2260
Captain John Sheridan was seated behind his desk, looking over the never ending parade of paperwork his job entailed, when Susan Ivanova charged into his office with all the calm of a raging tornado.
He stood. "Commander-"
"That bastard! That damned bastard!" Ivanova walked by Sheridan as if he were not even there. "Bester couldn't get into our heads so he's sending one of his cronies to do the job." Now she turned to her commanding officer. "Captain, I won't-"
Sheridan cut her off. "Susan, please, calm down." She stopped herself, but a mix of rage and fear was obviously boiling just below the surface. "Have a seat, please." He gestured toward the sofas and table in the middle of the room. Reluctantly, Ivanova marched over and took a seat. John followed and sat down across from her.
"Now first off, I want you to promise me you aren't going to do anything rash. No 'maintenance checks' that lead to malfunctions in the defense grid." Just recently Susan had nearly thrown her career away, planning to murder the psi cop Bester under the dubious cover of an accident with the station's weapons.
"But Captain, the only reason the Corps could be sending this new psi cop is get what Bester couldn't!" She did not need to remind him of what was at stake in keeping the Corps from getting access to the command staff. Even beyond their conspiracy against President Clark, who had assassinated his predecessor, there was the matter of Ivanova's hidden telepathic abilities.
"Commander."
Ivanova sighed and looked down for a moment, then met Sheridan's eyes again. "Yes, Sir."
"Now look, we handled Bester and we can get through this the same way. Delenn's telepaths still haven't left the station yet, and I've already told Dr. Franklin to prepare more of the sleepers."
"Captain, we threw Bester for a loop with those things, but he wouldn't be trying again unless he'd thought of a way to get around our defense."
"I've thought of that myself, but we don't know for sure that this is just an attempt to check up on us. The dust Bester claimed was onboard the station last time really was here. It's possible there could be something legitimate about this visit, too."
"And what reason did Mr. Bester give to justify sending another psi cop after he was just here?"
"Just that there is some sort of 'terrible danger' that only the Corps can save us from." Sheridan frowned. "He claimed that the details were on a 'need to know basis,' and I of course don't need to know."
"We've heard that song and dance before, Captain. I know it's a lie this time."
"Maybe, but there is some good news. When I told Bester I'd ask elsewhere about what was going on, he admitted that the operation had to stay absolutely quiet, and as a result there were no official orders for me to check on."
Ivanova looked immensely relieved. "Well, that solves that problem. When the psi cop arrives we just tell him to get stuffed and head back to Earth."
"Actually, the psi cop is a she, and it may not be that simple. A little while ago Dr. Franklin informed me security found a body in Down Below, and there was no discernable cause of death. He's performing an autopsy right now."
"And you think this might be connected to Bester's claim?"
"It's too early to tell, but we have to keep an open mind. If there is a danger to the station, we may need the help."
"Well, I've always had a sneaking suspicion we were all doomed. May as well get it over with." With the return of Ivanova's fatalistic sense of humor came her professional sensibilities as well. "So what do we know about this psi cop, in case we do have to let her onboard?"
"Garibaldi is trying to find out as much as he can. A cursory check has given us a little bit to work with though." Sheridan stood and led Ivanova over to the screen behind his desk, then ordered the computer to recall the file he had been viewing a short time before.
An image of the psi cop appeared, with a scrolling text beside. Susan studied the display for a while. "Born in '34 and she's already been a psi cop for almost six years... they must start training them to goose-step while they're still toddlers," she remarked.
"The most noteworthy thing that's a matter of public record is that she was involved in the Boston Mindblanker case."
"Yes, I remember hearing about that on the news. He was a telepathic serial killer who used to steal memorizes from his victims."
Sheridan nodded. "After he tortured their minds, making them hallucinate that they had already been murdered, over and over again. After the Mindblanker was captured, he did an interview with ISN I still remember to this day. He bragged about what he had done with no remorse, and that look in his eyes..." Captain Sheridan just shook his head. "It took me two or three hours to fall asleep that night."
Security Chief Michael Garibaldi now entered the room, obviously in a hurry. "Captain, if you need me I'll be Down Below. The Doc told me he's going to give you the details as soon as he's finished, but for now he's pretty sure the Lurker in Med Lab didn't die of natural causes. I'm going to have to start poking around in Brown Section."
"I see. Did you turn up anything on this Lisa Collins?" John asked.
"Not too much, there aren't a lot of records the Psi Corps keeps that I could get a hold of. What I did manage to do is talk to the Chief Detective at the Boston Police Department. He couldn't give me a lot of his time because their Chief of Police was assaulted and is in a coma. All he did say was that he doesn't particularly trust her, although she's not as bad as the other Boston psi cops because she doesn't violate the rules for telepaths quite as blatantly."
"That's just as likely to mean she's subtle about it, which could be more dangerous," Ivanova said.
"Yeah. And also he said that she has a Narn bodyguard." Garibaldi said with a quizzical look on his face. "I have to admit, that's something I've got to see to believe. Captain?"
Sheridan nodded and Garabaldi left the room.
"Nothing good can come of this," Ivanova said flatly.
Ta'Wher sat silently in his seat, looking out the ship's window and considering the impressive sight of Babylon 5. This close the immensity of the place was truly driven home. And, unless he had already fled the station, there was a killer onboard. The fugitive's transport had arrived at the station well ahead of them, only half a day late.
"Babylon Control, this is the Psi Star. Please reply." Lisa had expected a cold reception, but nevertheless the long wait was finally getting to his friend.
"This is Babylon Control." It was the voice of the same Lieutenant who had previously rebuffed them.
"There have been five ships that arrived after I did but have already docked. Am I going to die out here or what?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I was told not to let you dock without further instructions. Stand-by."
"Wait! Could I please talk to someone in authority?"
"Stand-by."
The communication line was cut off. Lisa made an inarticulate cry of frustration. For a moment it looked as if she might strike the console in front of her before she lowered her hand.
"If I were a telekinetic I'd take apart this damn station with my mind!" she said.
"Once again, I suggest you have a look at the Book of G'Quan." Ta'Wher held up the large tome. "I know it always helps to calm my nerves."
"Once again, I'll remind you that I can't read Narn. Why aren't there any translated versions?"
"And once again, I suggest you learn to read Narn. The Book of G'Quan must be read in its proper form."
"Just keep it up, and I'll tell you where you can shove your Book of G'Quan."
"Since you are a mere ignorant human, I will ignore your sacrilege." Ta'Wher said this in a joking fashion, but in truth he was a touch dismayed. In the past three years he had tried to engage the spiritual side of Lisa Collins, and the only conclusion he could find was that she had no spiritual side. Although at least by now he had established in her mind that "ethical behavior" and "what is best for the Psi Corps" were not the same thing. Those arguments had been heated indeed.
"I'm sorry, Ta'Wher, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." Ta'Wher was about to tell her he had not really been offended, but she cut him off. "No, I shouldn't make light of your beliefs just because they aren't my own. And maybe I should learn Narn. You've had to learn a lot of English after all, and learning a third language would broaden my horizons a bit. Hell, I haven't spoken French in so long it would almost be a second language."
Ta'Wher was very pleased when Lisa then called up the computer's Narn language files and began reading the introductory chapters. He returned to his own reading, and ten minutes later the station hailed their ship again.
"Psi Star, the Captain has said that your request to dock is still being considered. Please continue to stand-"
"Could you please relay a request, Babylon Control? I have a Narn passenger on board who would like to disembark. If you would allow me to dock, I promise that only he will leave the ship until I hear otherwise."
"I'll pass along your request. Babylon Control out."
"Well, there's something, anyway," Collins told Ta'Wher.
"I'm not sure it will accomplish anything if I can get onboard," Ta'Wher said. "I may be able ascertain whether our suspect is still aboard the station, but without the ability to apprehend him that won't do much good."
"That wasn't what I had in mind. You're always bragging about how witty and charming you are, so I want you to convince them to let me onboard."
"Given how they have treated us so far, that will be easier said than done."
This time there was only a short wait until they were hailed by the station again. "Psi Star, this is Babylon Control. You have permission to dock. Please approach and be prepared to turn control of your ship over to the station's computer on my mark. Only your Narn passenger has been given permission to enter the station for now."
"Understood, Babylon Control. I'm on approach."
A short time later the ship was on autopilot and gliding into the station. "Remember, I don't have any recourse to force myself onto this station," Lisa told Ta'Wher. "Be diplomatic."
"Don't worry yourself, Lisa. I shall be the epitome of politeness and tact."
"This is an outrage!" Ta'Wher cried at nearly the top of his lungs. He then began pacing angrily in front of the security office's main console. Seated behind that console, Zack Allan reflected that his conversation with the Narn had gone down hill very fast. "The last free member of the Kha'Ri is now imprisoned by the Earth Alliance? An outrage! First all the difficulty just to bring my sword through customs, and now this injustice?"
"Hey, look, it's not like he's a political prisoner or something," Zack told the raging alien. "He broke the law, and sometimes when you break the law, you end up in a cell."
"Locked up for assaulting a Centauri! That should bring a medal, not a jail sentence," Ta'Wher snapped.
"Yeah, well it's not a perfect universe. Deal with it." With the tension between himself and Garibaldi lately, Zack was running on a very short fuse, and this Narn was not helping his mood one bit.
The Narn stopped for a moment and collected himself. "I apologize for losing my temper, Mr. Allan. If G'Kar must be imprisoned, might I at least speak with him for a time?"
Zack Allan groaned. "Look, I'll let you see him for five minutes if you promise to get out of my hair! Maybe ten if you're lucky."
"That would be satisfactory."
"This way."
Citizen G'Kar was sitting silently, pondering what words to write next in his book. His recent experiences had given him a wealth of information he wished to share, though committing his feelings to words did not always come easily. Finally inspiration struck, and grinning he lifted his pen once more.
The door to his cell opened. "You've got a visitor," Zack Allan said without preamble. A fellow Narn entered the room and the door shut behind him.
"Greetings, G'Kar. My name is Ta'Wher, and I seek your help." Ta'Wher then bowed in the traditional way. G'Kar put down his book, and then stood to return the greeting.
"Well, there is probably not much I can do for you within these walls, but please tell me of your problem." G'Kar paused briefly. "Hmm... you seem familiar to me. Have me met before?"
Ta'Wher only cringed.
Suddenly G'Kar remembered. "You! I remember! It was seven years ago." G'Kar shook his finger in Ta'Wher's face. "You accused me of embezzlement!"
This time Ta'Wher actually flinched. "Please, G'Kar, I did not make the accusation. I only conducted the audit. I had to obey my orders."
G'Kar calmed. "Yes, that is true. And you did clear me of all charges. Most in your position would have lied in order to implicate me and gain favor with my rivals within the Kha'Ri." G'Kar frowned. "You were painfully thorough, however."
"I was under a great deal of pressure to find something wrong."
"I imagine so. Yet you did give a truthful report. I was very angry with you at the time, but now that I think about it I see things differently... I see almost everything differently now."
"I thank you."
"And now, seven years later you come to me with a sword on your back. What caused you abandon bureaucracy for the way of the warrior so late in life?" G'Kar asked.
"It is a long story, and Mr. Allan has given me only a short time to speak with you."
"Very well. Tell me of your problem then."
"I have reason to believe a murderer has come onboard this station. A rather vicious human who is also a very powerful telepath. The law enforcement aboard this station is ill equipped to deal with him. My traveling companion Lisa Collins is also a powerful telepath, sent by the humans' Psi Corps to stop him.
"Unfortunately, the commander of this station does not trust the Psi Corps, and likely believes my friend is here only to spy on him. Not without cause, for I've spent much time among this Psi Corps and there is very little to recommend it."
"From what I know of the organization, I agree with that assessment," G'Kar replied.
"Ms. Collins is not like many others in her organization. Although you do not know me well, I swear to you by G'Quan that she has not come to this station under false pretenses."
G'Kar felt a pang of suspicion. "And you know this human so well that you can swear by G'Quan's name? You are a follower of G'Quan?"
"Yes to both." Ta'Wher paused to consider his words. "She has had a difficult road, and perhaps at one time she was less honorable then she is now. But I do know that she saved my life at great personal risk. More than that, she saved my soul and avenged the deaths of my family after they were murdered. She is the reason I took up the way of the warrior, and stands at the center of the long story I have no time to tell."
Now G'Kar paused to consider what Ta'Wher had just spoken. The words made G'Kar think of his own difficulties, and that some of his actions when he had first arrived on the station had hardly been in line with the teachings of G'Quan. G'Kar's instincts told him that Ta'Wher was sincere.
"What can I do to help you?" G'Kar asked.
"If you have any influence with Captain Sheridan, please speak with him on my friend's behalf."
The door to the cell opened. "I'm sorry, but I just got a call. You'll have to leave right now," Zack said to Ta'Wher.
"Mr. Allan," G'Kar said. "Please tell the Captain I need to speak with him immediately about a threat to this station."
"Thank you, G'Kar." Ta'Wher said.
"Fine, fine. Come on, get moving." Ta'Wher quickly bowed to G'Kar and then exited the room. Zack activated his link. "Allan to Sheridan," was the last thing G'Kar heard from him before the door closed.
Now if only G'Kar could persuade Captain Sheridan of the danger as well as Ta'Wher had persuaded him.
I can't believe this damned mess is almost over, Lisa Collins thought as the defendant was escorted into the courtroom, heavily bound, by a pair of guards. This was the final day of the trial of Carson MacFarlane, the "Boston Mindfragger." And what an embarrassment for the Corps it had been. To be sure, Collins herself had been portrayed in the media as a hero to rival the fictional psi cop John Trakker for her role in apprehending the criminal. But the exposure of the cover-up, and the sheer number of mundanes this man had executed was the worst kind of publicity.
The interplanetary headlines were bad enough, but things were worst locally. In Boston it seemed like mundanes were on the verge of forming the sort of angry, fearful mobs that had not been seen since telepathy had first been discovered. At least when the guilty verdict was finally rendered the situation would calm down.
It was awful to see any telepath at the mercy of mundanes. As much as Lisa was disgusted by what MacFarlane had done, he was still one of their own. It should have been handled within the Corps. The entire situation had spiraled too far out of control for that, unfortunately. The mundanes wanted their pound of flesh, and for once they would get it.
For a moment Collins considered the Narn, who also was seated in the front row, just a few seats away and behind the prosecuting attorney. He sat there clutching the Book of G'Quan, that horribly empty look still in his eyes. Lisa almost regretted that she had found him in time to undo his mental damage and save his life. Since the Mindblanker had killed his family and stolen his memories, the Narn had been dead to the world. Collins was not quite capable of feeling empathy for a mundane, let alone an alien, but she did feel responsible for his condition and regretted it.
As for the Mindblanker himself, he sat as calmly as if waiting for a shuttle, hardly three meters away. Lisa suspected he would be sentenced to death. Not the standard death of personality, but actually executed. No one had been able to get a handle on his unusually strong telepathic abilities. And even under sleepers he was somehow able to resist any scan. There was no way to tell if a new personality could be put in place. For that matter, there was no way to recover the Narn's lost memories and restore them to him. Lisa was not even sure why that was suddenly important to her, but she realized that it would have helped her find better closure to the case.
Lost in her thoughts, she was drawn back to the present by the voice of the judge. "Will the foreman of the jury please read the verdict?"
A man in the jury box stood. "We find the defendant, Carson MacFarlane, guilty on all counts." A low murmuring among the crowd prevented the foreman from going on to list the charges, and the judge banged his gavel, trying to bring the room back to order.
At that moment Lisa felt as if a strange fog were descending on her perceptions. She instinctively began to block mentally as if she were fighting off a scan, and the room came into better focus. MacFarlane, who was already standing to receive sentencing, suddenly turned and faced the spectators of the trial. His guards did not even react to this.
"This has been terribly fun to watch, but I really must be going now. So much to do, so little time to do it in. Good night."
To Lisa's horror, everyone in the entire courtroom except herself and the Mindblanker simply collapsed. But the sleepers??? Even her shock that MacFarlane had somehow avoided taking or resisted the sleepers paled in comparison to the simultaneous collapse of over fifty people. Whether they were dead or merely unconscious, affecting so many minds at once should have been impossible.
Collins tried to rise from her seat and draw her PPG. She did so, but far slower than she had intended to. As far as she could tell her blocks were perfectly intact, but somehow she was losing control of her body. MacFarlane turned to her and regarded her as if she were some form of strange insect he had not seen before.
"Ah, Ms. Collins. I am so happy that you came today. That little trick you pulled with the sleeper dart that led to my incarceration was most inconsiderate."
Lisa had finally brought her PPG up. It was pointed straight at MacFarlane. She willed herself to pull the trigger, but nothing happened. She wanted to scream in frustration and fear, but realized she could not move at all.
"My friend has finally developed a resistance to your drugs. How fortunate it is that I can continue with my work." Lisa had no idea what the lunatic was talking about, but did not care. She was focused on what she suspected would be her very last telepathic battle, trying to regain control of her hand. "And now, I thank you for all you have done for me."
Lisa felt the mental impulse, actually an attack from the Mindblanker, that told her arm to move the PPG up to her head, and she fought it with a strength born of desperation. Somehow she blocked it, but her arm began trembling. At any moment it would start moving, and bring the muzzle of the PPG to her temple.
Damn it I'm a P12, I'm a P12 and-spent-a-year-training-as-a-mindshredder-I-should-be-able-to-stop-him-whycan'tIstophimI'maP12- As she approached panic, Lisa finally managed to make a single mental attack.
Pain. MacFarlane had been expecting just such an attack and would have been able to block it easily. However, Lisa had not attacked her assailant, she had attacked herself.
An unbelievable wave of fire swept across her nervous system. For a moment Lisa was aware of nothing but the pain. Her entire body shuddered, and just as she lost control of her limbs her hands began to spasm. The PPG fired a single shot before it tumbled from her grip. The blast of superheated helium struck Carson MacFarlane directly in the chest. Collins, her weapon, and the dying criminal all dropped to the floor.
For a moment Lisa Collins lay silently, curled almost into fetal position and shuddering slightly. Good plan, maybe next time I'll ease up on the pain thing a little, she thought in a barely coherent fashion. Dimly she was thankful she had gone to the bathroom only a short time ago, otherwise she was sure she would have ruined her uniform.
Finally, Lisa got up to her knees, grabbed the low railing and with effort peered over it to where the Mindblanker had been standing. He was lying motionless on the ground. His chest was still rising and falling, but given the severity of the wound that was not likely to last.
She could have let it go there. Just ignore him as he silently died. But the way her mind had been violated infuriated her. Collins had been a psi cop for so long, and gone through such intensive training to prevent such an occurrence, that she had simply forgotten what it was like to have someone casually break open her defenses and leave her in such a helpless state. It was a lesson the Corps had taught her as a child, but apparently she had not retained it well.
As her telepathic senses reasserted themselves, she realized that the mundanes in the room were still alive, although unconscious. This included the Narn. As terrible as what had just happened to her was, Lisa's thoughts again turned to the alien. His suffering had been far worse, and he would likely never recover. The poor creature would never even remember the family he had lost. Lisa tried to imagine having a family, and then staring at a picture of them and seeing only strangers. Would the Narn go home and ask forgotten friends what sort of people his family had been? What he himself had been like? Or would he just give in to despair, perhaps take his own life?
No. It's not going to be that way. I'm not going to let it be that way! Collins knew it was a terrible gamble, hoping that MacFarlane would be weakened enough by his approaching death that she could mentally overpower him. A part of her balked. Was she really going to risk her life to help a mundane? If she could steal back the Narn's memories from the dying man in front of her, she could snatch back one life that the Mindblanker had taken from the universe. Somehow, that made the risk seem worthwhile.
Lisa Collins began what was commonly known as a deathbed scan, and felt herself descending into hell.
This was Lisa's second deathbed scan, and she remembered the first quite well. There was a dying victim of an incredibly violent assault, and someone was needed to go inside the victim's mind to find out who the murderer was. Lisa knew such scans were unpleasant to perform, but she was eager to do her duty for the Corps and volunteered freely.
What she experienced was very unpleasant, but at least there was nothing too unexpected. She saw herself standing with the victim in a child's bedroom. Such an odd image by itself was not necessarily remarkable. One fact every telepath learned early on was that the mind often saw telepathic input in symbolic ways.
From an evolutionary standpoint, telepathy was brand new, and to interpret it the human mind was forced to put it in more familiar contexts. A hostile mental attack might be "seen" in the mind as a sword, while an attempt to block a scan might cause one to see a protective cocoon. The symbols were just that, however. Anyone who believed the sword in the mind's eye was a physical object would certainly fail to defend against it correctly.
What was seen in the mind could certainly seem real enough, however. Collins reached out and touched a poster of an old rock band on the wall, and she could feel the glossy texture.
"Man, I can't believe I used to listen to those guys," the victim said ruefully. He was sitting on the edge of the small bed, clearly apprehensive.
"Sorry, I don't know them. I didn't listen to a lot of music when I was young," Lisa said. "This was your bedroom?"
"Yeah. I remember when I was real little I used to be scared there was a monster in the closet." He nodded toward the door.
Lisa instantly recognized the door to the closet as the liminality: the representation of the victim's approaching death. The symbol of the door was a fairly common one. Some might see it as a passage to some sort of afterlife, not that Collins believed in anything like that. Regardless, death could be seen as boundary, as passing from what is known to what is unknown. In that context it was no surprise that the mind often manufactured a door to represent it.
"Are you going to stay here with me?" the victim asked. His eyes pleaded desperately for any comfort.
"Sorry, I'm just here for some information."
"So I'm getting scanned. A shame, I'd hoped you were one last fantasy my mind was cooking up. You've got the most beautiful brown eyes. I could get lost in them."
Lisa shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "It's a bit late to be thinking about those sorts of things. But you said 'last.' So you know what is happening."
"Yes." His eyes darted to the closet, but then quickly shifted away.
"Could you tell me who killed you?"
"Sit down, please." He patted the bed next to him with his hand.
Lisa could sense time was growing short, so she did not bother to argue. He took her hand, and Lisa fought down the urge to pull away. The gesture represented their minds drawing closer, and while this was frightening it would also give her a little extra time to coax more information out of him.
"Thank you," he said.
"Tell me who did this to you, please. There's not a lot of time."
The victim shuddered. "It was Fatty Simon."
Lisa saw an all too clear image of the snarling face, and felt the knife as if it were penetrating into her own flesh again and again. "What a terrible way to die," she said quietly. Dwayne "Fatty" Simon was a thug local law enforcement had been trying to get off the streets for a while. This brutal murder would get him a death of personality for sure.
"It's not so bad with you here, gorgeous." His attempt at charm did not do much to mask his growing fear, however. "Ha, look at me, flirting with you. That's what got me killed, I guess, playing the field. Fatty must have found out I was sleeping with his sister. He never did like me."
"No, I suppose he didn't like you very much." Collins told him. She was still shaken by this man's memory of his own murder.
"The last thing I saw was Fatty throwing the knife into the trunk of a hoverlimo. Probably Cordell's."
A major player like Cordell being involved upped the stakes a bit. "I know you mundanes get really squeamish about this sort of thing, but I don't suppose you'd mind me picking your brain for a few details on your career? Our connection is too tenuous for me to do it unless you let me."
The closet door opened a crack. "Only if you keep holding my hand." The man sounded more like a child than an adult when he said it.
In the last few seconds she had remaining, Collins rifled through the memories of the now unguarded mind of the murder victim, picking up everything she could on his connections with Fatty Simon and Cordell. She found leads that would break open several stalled investigations.
The dying man stood, and Lisa rose, still holding his hand. "I'm not too proud of my life. I guess I've done a few bad things... now I have to meet the monster for it."
He released Lisa's hand as the door swung open. There was blood on the floor now, leaking out from the closet. Collins was sure the victim was not feeling very optimistic about the afterlife, and she did not want to see in what terrible way his guilty conscious interpreted crossing the threshold of the liminality. She heard his last scream in her mind as she broke their connection.
Lisa's first thought as she stepped into Carson MacFarlane's mind was that her first deathbed scan had been child's play. She found herself standing on desolate landscape of a dead, alien world. There was nothing but dirt and rock in every direction. Gasping, Collins realized the air was not breathable. She fell to her knees and clawed at her throat.
It's an attack. But as soon as she had the thought she realized it was wrong. MacFarlane was not deliberately attacking her. His mind was just so foreign and disturbing that she could hardly tolerate it. With an effort she stood and began breathing again. It took great concentration just to convince herself that she was not suffocating on the surface of a distant planet, though with time it was growing easier.
She saw a black speck flying in the distance, which as it approached resolved itself into an alien vessel. Or at least she thought it was supposed to be some sort of ship. It was like nothing she had ever seen, floating with no visible propulsion, all mottled black, and with several large spikes poking out of its surface. The shape was reminiscent of a spider, or perhaps a crab. Quite an imagination this clown has, Lisa thought glibly, but on another level there was something disturbing about the image.
A terrible shriek filled the air, or perhaps the sound was entirely in her mind. Regardless it shook her to the core. Lisa's nerve broke and she simply panicked, fleeing away from the ship as fast she could.
After what seemed like an eternity, Collins ducked into an outcropping of rock and hid. Gradually she regained her wits. Although it seemed that a lot of time had passed in the mindscape she had entered, she knew in real world very little time had gone by or else MacFarlane would already have died. Behind her she saw the outcropping actually led into a cave, and knew instinctively that proceeding into it would allow her to confront the Mindblanker directly.
The cave was dark, although there was barely enough light to see by, emitted by no source Lisa could discern. She could not tell if the underground passage was supposed to be natural or artificial. There were occasional side passages and divergences in her path, but she proceeded unerringly to where she had to go. Occasionally, she dimly made out alien writing carved into the rock, of no language she recognized.
Finally, she heard the instantly recognizable voice of the killer call out. "Every time they are driven off this world, they return. They pay their respect to him, but he will not answer. He simply hides, in caves very much like this one. They don't understand why he won't support their grand design for our galaxy."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, MacFarlane. Come on out so we can talk." She drew her PPG from her belt, which in reality represented readying her mind for the coming telepathic conflict.
Lisa stepped out into a wider area of the cave, lit by a small fire blazing in its center. Behind the fire stood MacFarlane, apparently unarmed. There was no sign of the liminality yet, so perhaps Lisa had more time that she had originally thought.
As she took a step forward and aimed her weapon, the ground beneath Lisa seemed to come alive. Short tentacles formerly made of dirt rapped themselves around her ankles. She tripped and the PPG flew from her grip. Once again, Collins was defenseless before the Mindblanker. Brilliant. If there were any witnesses to this I'd make the Darwin Awards for sure.
"You are a fool, Ms. Collins. I cannot die under their protection. Evolution will-" Suddenly, a look of horror crossed MacFarlane's face, and he looked around wildly as if seeing something Lisa could not. "No, you can't leave me! I did everything you said! No, please!" He screamed in her mind and at once his incredible telepathic power diminished to almost nothing. Lisa stood casually and the things gripping her ankles dissolved into dust.
As she retrieved her firearm newer, longer tentacles appeared. This time they surrounded MacFarlane, gripping him and beginning to pull him into the ground. Lisa realized in shock that the entire floor of the cave was the liminality. She knew the unusual size of the liminality image meant it was more dangerous to her own mind, and that she had to leave almost immediately or risk being drawn to the other side herself.
Still she had come here for purpose. Lisa pointed the PPG at MacFarlane. "The things you stole. Show me."
"No, they are mine! He gave them to me!"
Lisa put her talent in Mindshredding to use. The image in her mind was only of herself firing the PPG at MacFarlane. In fact, blood vessels were exploding in his brain as his body lay on the floor of the courtroom. With his consciousness mostly destroyed, what was left of MacFarlane's memories was laid bare. The stolen memories looked like a group of refugees who had suddenly appeared, huddling in a corner of the cave. As the tentacles seemingly dragged MacFarlane down to hell, Lisa raced over to the images of MacFarlane's victims and grabbed the arm of one that looked like the surviving Narn. At that moment the Mindblanker finally died and the imaginary world of his mind disappeared.
Lisa abandoned his mind and returned to reality, realizing there was a terrible pain in her back. It faded quickly and she assumed it was just her nervous system sending erroneous signals due to her earlier attack on her own mind, or her close brush with the liminality.
Of more concern were the memories of the Narn. It was almost too much information to hold, and Lisa felt as if her mind would burst with the strain. She had no idea how MacFarlane had contained not one but dozens of these sets of memories. Thousands of images flashed through her mind at a rate too great to understand, an entire lifetime of important moments.
The Narn had apparently regained consciousness while she had been in the Mindblanker's head. He was fearfully trying to rouse a man who had been seated next to him by poking his arm lightly. "Hello? Is anyone awake?" He had not yet noticed Lisa stirring.
Lisa crawled over toward the Narn, her back still hurting from whatever the phantom pain had been. He noticed her shortly before she gripped his wrist. An entire lifetime of memories left her like a bursting dam. The Narn screamed and fainted due to the shock of absorbing so much information at once, but Lisa was certain all the memories had gotten through. She finally passed out from the enormous strain she had put on her system, and the last thing she heard for a long time was shouting voices approaching the courtroom.
2260
Captain John Sheridan was seated behind his desk, looking over the never ending parade of paperwork his job entailed, when Susan Ivanova charged into his office with all the calm of a raging tornado.
He stood. "Commander-"
"That bastard! That damned bastard!" Ivanova walked by Sheridan as if he were not even there. "Bester couldn't get into our heads so he's sending one of his cronies to do the job." Now she turned to her commanding officer. "Captain, I won't-"
Sheridan cut her off. "Susan, please, calm down." She stopped herself, but a mix of rage and fear was obviously boiling just below the surface. "Have a seat, please." He gestured toward the sofas and table in the middle of the room. Reluctantly, Ivanova marched over and took a seat. John followed and sat down across from her.
"Now first off, I want you to promise me you aren't going to do anything rash. No 'maintenance checks' that lead to malfunctions in the defense grid." Just recently Susan had nearly thrown her career away, planning to murder the psi cop Bester under the dubious cover of an accident with the station's weapons.
"But Captain, the only reason the Corps could be sending this new psi cop is get what Bester couldn't!" She did not need to remind him of what was at stake in keeping the Corps from getting access to the command staff. Even beyond their conspiracy against President Clark, who had assassinated his predecessor, there was the matter of Ivanova's hidden telepathic abilities.
"Commander."
Ivanova sighed and looked down for a moment, then met Sheridan's eyes again. "Yes, Sir."
"Now look, we handled Bester and we can get through this the same way. Delenn's telepaths still haven't left the station yet, and I've already told Dr. Franklin to prepare more of the sleepers."
"Captain, we threw Bester for a loop with those things, but he wouldn't be trying again unless he'd thought of a way to get around our defense."
"I've thought of that myself, but we don't know for sure that this is just an attempt to check up on us. The dust Bester claimed was onboard the station last time really was here. It's possible there could be something legitimate about this visit, too."
"And what reason did Mr. Bester give to justify sending another psi cop after he was just here?"
"Just that there is some sort of 'terrible danger' that only the Corps can save us from." Sheridan frowned. "He claimed that the details were on a 'need to know basis,' and I of course don't need to know."
"We've heard that song and dance before, Captain. I know it's a lie this time."
"Maybe, but there is some good news. When I told Bester I'd ask elsewhere about what was going on, he admitted that the operation had to stay absolutely quiet, and as a result there were no official orders for me to check on."
Ivanova looked immensely relieved. "Well, that solves that problem. When the psi cop arrives we just tell him to get stuffed and head back to Earth."
"Actually, the psi cop is a she, and it may not be that simple. A little while ago Dr. Franklin informed me security found a body in Down Below, and there was no discernable cause of death. He's performing an autopsy right now."
"And you think this might be connected to Bester's claim?"
"It's too early to tell, but we have to keep an open mind. If there is a danger to the station, we may need the help."
"Well, I've always had a sneaking suspicion we were all doomed. May as well get it over with." With the return of Ivanova's fatalistic sense of humor came her professional sensibilities as well. "So what do we know about this psi cop, in case we do have to let her onboard?"
"Garibaldi is trying to find out as much as he can. A cursory check has given us a little bit to work with though." Sheridan stood and led Ivanova over to the screen behind his desk, then ordered the computer to recall the file he had been viewing a short time before.
An image of the psi cop appeared, with a scrolling text beside. Susan studied the display for a while. "Born in '34 and she's already been a psi cop for almost six years... they must start training them to goose-step while they're still toddlers," she remarked.
"The most noteworthy thing that's a matter of public record is that she was involved in the Boston Mindblanker case."
"Yes, I remember hearing about that on the news. He was a telepathic serial killer who used to steal memorizes from his victims."
Sheridan nodded. "After he tortured their minds, making them hallucinate that they had already been murdered, over and over again. After the Mindblanker was captured, he did an interview with ISN I still remember to this day. He bragged about what he had done with no remorse, and that look in his eyes..." Captain Sheridan just shook his head. "It took me two or three hours to fall asleep that night."
Security Chief Michael Garibaldi now entered the room, obviously in a hurry. "Captain, if you need me I'll be Down Below. The Doc told me he's going to give you the details as soon as he's finished, but for now he's pretty sure the Lurker in Med Lab didn't die of natural causes. I'm going to have to start poking around in Brown Section."
"I see. Did you turn up anything on this Lisa Collins?" John asked.
"Not too much, there aren't a lot of records the Psi Corps keeps that I could get a hold of. What I did manage to do is talk to the Chief Detective at the Boston Police Department. He couldn't give me a lot of his time because their Chief of Police was assaulted and is in a coma. All he did say was that he doesn't particularly trust her, although she's not as bad as the other Boston psi cops because she doesn't violate the rules for telepaths quite as blatantly."
"That's just as likely to mean she's subtle about it, which could be more dangerous," Ivanova said.
"Yeah. And also he said that she has a Narn bodyguard." Garibaldi said with a quizzical look on his face. "I have to admit, that's something I've got to see to believe. Captain?"
Sheridan nodded and Garabaldi left the room.
"Nothing good can come of this," Ivanova said flatly.
Ta'Wher sat silently in his seat, looking out the ship's window and considering the impressive sight of Babylon 5. This close the immensity of the place was truly driven home. And, unless he had already fled the station, there was a killer onboard. The fugitive's transport had arrived at the station well ahead of them, only half a day late.
"Babylon Control, this is the Psi Star. Please reply." Lisa had expected a cold reception, but nevertheless the long wait was finally getting to his friend.
"This is Babylon Control." It was the voice of the same Lieutenant who had previously rebuffed them.
"There have been five ships that arrived after I did but have already docked. Am I going to die out here or what?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I was told not to let you dock without further instructions. Stand-by."
"Wait! Could I please talk to someone in authority?"
"Stand-by."
The communication line was cut off. Lisa made an inarticulate cry of frustration. For a moment it looked as if she might strike the console in front of her before she lowered her hand.
"If I were a telekinetic I'd take apart this damn station with my mind!" she said.
"Once again, I suggest you have a look at the Book of G'Quan." Ta'Wher held up the large tome. "I know it always helps to calm my nerves."
"Once again, I'll remind you that I can't read Narn. Why aren't there any translated versions?"
"And once again, I suggest you learn to read Narn. The Book of G'Quan must be read in its proper form."
"Just keep it up, and I'll tell you where you can shove your Book of G'Quan."
"Since you are a mere ignorant human, I will ignore your sacrilege." Ta'Wher said this in a joking fashion, but in truth he was a touch dismayed. In the past three years he had tried to engage the spiritual side of Lisa Collins, and the only conclusion he could find was that she had no spiritual side. Although at least by now he had established in her mind that "ethical behavior" and "what is best for the Psi Corps" were not the same thing. Those arguments had been heated indeed.
"I'm sorry, Ta'Wher, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." Ta'Wher was about to tell her he had not really been offended, but she cut him off. "No, I shouldn't make light of your beliefs just because they aren't my own. And maybe I should learn Narn. You've had to learn a lot of English after all, and learning a third language would broaden my horizons a bit. Hell, I haven't spoken French in so long it would almost be a second language."
Ta'Wher was very pleased when Lisa then called up the computer's Narn language files and began reading the introductory chapters. He returned to his own reading, and ten minutes later the station hailed their ship again.
"Psi Star, the Captain has said that your request to dock is still being considered. Please continue to stand-"
"Could you please relay a request, Babylon Control? I have a Narn passenger on board who would like to disembark. If you would allow me to dock, I promise that only he will leave the ship until I hear otherwise."
"I'll pass along your request. Babylon Control out."
"Well, there's something, anyway," Collins told Ta'Wher.
"I'm not sure it will accomplish anything if I can get onboard," Ta'Wher said. "I may be able ascertain whether our suspect is still aboard the station, but without the ability to apprehend him that won't do much good."
"That wasn't what I had in mind. You're always bragging about how witty and charming you are, so I want you to convince them to let me onboard."
"Given how they have treated us so far, that will be easier said than done."
This time there was only a short wait until they were hailed by the station again. "Psi Star, this is Babylon Control. You have permission to dock. Please approach and be prepared to turn control of your ship over to the station's computer on my mark. Only your Narn passenger has been given permission to enter the station for now."
"Understood, Babylon Control. I'm on approach."
A short time later the ship was on autopilot and gliding into the station. "Remember, I don't have any recourse to force myself onto this station," Lisa told Ta'Wher. "Be diplomatic."
"Don't worry yourself, Lisa. I shall be the epitome of politeness and tact."
"This is an outrage!" Ta'Wher cried at nearly the top of his lungs. He then began pacing angrily in front of the security office's main console. Seated behind that console, Zack Allan reflected that his conversation with the Narn had gone down hill very fast. "The last free member of the Kha'Ri is now imprisoned by the Earth Alliance? An outrage! First all the difficulty just to bring my sword through customs, and now this injustice?"
"Hey, look, it's not like he's a political prisoner or something," Zack told the raging alien. "He broke the law, and sometimes when you break the law, you end up in a cell."
"Locked up for assaulting a Centauri! That should bring a medal, not a jail sentence," Ta'Wher snapped.
"Yeah, well it's not a perfect universe. Deal with it." With the tension between himself and Garibaldi lately, Zack was running on a very short fuse, and this Narn was not helping his mood one bit.
The Narn stopped for a moment and collected himself. "I apologize for losing my temper, Mr. Allan. If G'Kar must be imprisoned, might I at least speak with him for a time?"
Zack Allan groaned. "Look, I'll let you see him for five minutes if you promise to get out of my hair! Maybe ten if you're lucky."
"That would be satisfactory."
"This way."
Citizen G'Kar was sitting silently, pondering what words to write next in his book. His recent experiences had given him a wealth of information he wished to share, though committing his feelings to words did not always come easily. Finally inspiration struck, and grinning he lifted his pen once more.
The door to his cell opened. "You've got a visitor," Zack Allan said without preamble. A fellow Narn entered the room and the door shut behind him.
"Greetings, G'Kar. My name is Ta'Wher, and I seek your help." Ta'Wher then bowed in the traditional way. G'Kar put down his book, and then stood to return the greeting.
"Well, there is probably not much I can do for you within these walls, but please tell me of your problem." G'Kar paused briefly. "Hmm... you seem familiar to me. Have me met before?"
Ta'Wher only cringed.
Suddenly G'Kar remembered. "You! I remember! It was seven years ago." G'Kar shook his finger in Ta'Wher's face. "You accused me of embezzlement!"
This time Ta'Wher actually flinched. "Please, G'Kar, I did not make the accusation. I only conducted the audit. I had to obey my orders."
G'Kar calmed. "Yes, that is true. And you did clear me of all charges. Most in your position would have lied in order to implicate me and gain favor with my rivals within the Kha'Ri." G'Kar frowned. "You were painfully thorough, however."
"I was under a great deal of pressure to find something wrong."
"I imagine so. Yet you did give a truthful report. I was very angry with you at the time, but now that I think about it I see things differently... I see almost everything differently now."
"I thank you."
"And now, seven years later you come to me with a sword on your back. What caused you abandon bureaucracy for the way of the warrior so late in life?" G'Kar asked.
"It is a long story, and Mr. Allan has given me only a short time to speak with you."
"Very well. Tell me of your problem then."
"I have reason to believe a murderer has come onboard this station. A rather vicious human who is also a very powerful telepath. The law enforcement aboard this station is ill equipped to deal with him. My traveling companion Lisa Collins is also a powerful telepath, sent by the humans' Psi Corps to stop him.
"Unfortunately, the commander of this station does not trust the Psi Corps, and likely believes my friend is here only to spy on him. Not without cause, for I've spent much time among this Psi Corps and there is very little to recommend it."
"From what I know of the organization, I agree with that assessment," G'Kar replied.
"Ms. Collins is not like many others in her organization. Although you do not know me well, I swear to you by G'Quan that she has not come to this station under false pretenses."
G'Kar felt a pang of suspicion. "And you know this human so well that you can swear by G'Quan's name? You are a follower of G'Quan?"
"Yes to both." Ta'Wher paused to consider his words. "She has had a difficult road, and perhaps at one time she was less honorable then she is now. But I do know that she saved my life at great personal risk. More than that, she saved my soul and avenged the deaths of my family after they were murdered. She is the reason I took up the way of the warrior, and stands at the center of the long story I have no time to tell."
Now G'Kar paused to consider what Ta'Wher had just spoken. The words made G'Kar think of his own difficulties, and that some of his actions when he had first arrived on the station had hardly been in line with the teachings of G'Quan. G'Kar's instincts told him that Ta'Wher was sincere.
"What can I do to help you?" G'Kar asked.
"If you have any influence with Captain Sheridan, please speak with him on my friend's behalf."
The door to the cell opened. "I'm sorry, but I just got a call. You'll have to leave right now," Zack said to Ta'Wher.
"Mr. Allan," G'Kar said. "Please tell the Captain I need to speak with him immediately about a threat to this station."
"Thank you, G'Kar." Ta'Wher said.
"Fine, fine. Come on, get moving." Ta'Wher quickly bowed to G'Kar and then exited the room. Zack activated his link. "Allan to Sheridan," was the last thing G'Kar heard from him before the door closed.
Now if only G'Kar could persuade Captain Sheridan of the danger as well as Ta'Wher had persuaded him.
