Armies of Light and Dark (3 page)

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Authors: Babylon 5

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BOOK: Armies of Light and Dark
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Lanas was looking at him oddly.

"Who is `we'? Is that the imperial `we'?"

"What? Oh! No, no, `we' as in myself and my–" He turned and gestured toward the techno-mages. They weren't there. There was only empty air behind him. Vir stared dumbly at his open and gesturing hand for a moment, and then said, "–myself and my ... fingers. Yes, that's right," and he waggled them to display them properly. "That is to say, my fingers and I. I have names for each of them. Would you like to hear–?"

"No. No, that's ... quite all right," said Lanas carefully, clearly not wanting to offend the man, quite possibly a lunatic, who was standing in front of him.

Suddenly switching his tone of voice, Vir inquired, "There seem to be fewer people here than I imagined there would be. Why is that?"

Lanas seemed to give great thought to what he was about to say. Ultimately, he glanced around, as if concerned that someone might be eavesdropping, and then he said, "Not here."

"Not here? You mean there are people not here?"

"No, I mean we shouldn't talk here. Come."

Turning, he started quickly down the makeshift road. Vir followed, pausing only a moment to glance over his shoulder and confirm for himself that there was no sign of those who had been accompanying him. Within a few minutes, Vir was sitting in the small quarters that had been assigned to Lanas. To say it was unadorned was to understate the matter. A few sticks of furniture in a one-room domicile in a large, prefabricated building – that was the entirety of Lanas' living quarters.

"I'm sorry I've nothing to offer you to drink. I wasn't expecting company. Not that I would have been able to provide anything even had I known you were going to be here. Minister Durla keeps us on a fairly restricted regimen around here."

"Does he."

"Yes. He doesn't want us spending his time and his money drinking. He believes that eating, working, and sleeping should constitute the entirety of our existence here."

"And you put up with that?" Vir was appalled. "But there's more to life than that! There's..."

"Oh. And he keeps prostitutes supplied in abundance."

"Ah." Vir bobbed his head in comprehension. "He, uhm ... he does?"

"Yes. He believes they provide a necessary release." He shrugged. "Apparently they fit into the budget more easily than liquor. Less expensive, too."

"That's very frugal of him," Vir said.

"They actually have an incentive bonus program, where they–"

Vir quickly put up his hands and forced a grin.

"That's ... that's quite all right. I get the idea. I don't really need to know more than you've told me. In fact, I wouldn't have been upset to know less." He cleared his throat, and then said, "So, you were going to tell me about..."

"Yes." Lanas nodded. Despite the fact that it was just the two of them in the room, he still lowered his voice. "Between the mysterious disappearances, and the people who have quit, the workforce has dropped by seventy percent. The advantage is, those of us remaining are being given sizable raises just to keep us here. The disadvantage, of course, is that we might not see our loved ones ever again. That would probably be more disturbing to me if I actually had loved ones." He shrugged. "I know it sounds insane. But somehow you just wind up adjusting to the idea that people disappear around here."

"Yes, I can guess that you would," Vir said, thinking about the abrupt disappearance of the techno-mages. "And do you have any idea what might be causing it? Any clue?"

"None at all. All I know is this: We've a primary excavation area in which we've managed to get deep beneath the surface of this misbegotten world. A number of men have disappeared along the way, some mysteriously, some running away. We have no idea what we're searching for, or what's going on here. But I will tell you what made an impression on me. Minister Durla came here once to inspect the facilities. I saw him several times during his stay here, and every time I did, there was something in his eyes."

"You mean, like an eyelash?"

"No," Lanas shook his head in exasperation. "I mean a look, a ... sensation. As if he was pleased over the existence of this dig, for some reason that none of us could fathom. I certainly know I couldn't."

"And he's given you no clue as to what you're looking for."

"No. The only thing I know is that he increased the shifts. We're working around the clock now. Day and night. Right now the Odd Squad is on."

"The ... what?"

"That's what we call them. The Odd Squad. A group of particularly aggressive diggers that sort of ended up working with one another. Word is that they're all former criminals or some such. Used to hard labor. They thrive on it. Enjoy doing it better and faster than anyone else because they somehow prove something to themselves." He stopped and shrugged. "Ah, but I shouldn't be second-guessing other people's motives. When you get right down to it, who ever knows why anyone does anything, right?"

"Oh, I can, uhm ... definitely agree with you on that one," Vir said.

"In any event, if anyone gets down to the bottom of whatever it is that we're digging around for, it's going to be the Odd Squad. They claim they can smell danger and then run screaming toward it. One of them ... Ciril, I think his name is ... says he's looking forward to meeting Death so that he can punch Death in his privates and then assail him with a string of off-color remarks. I'm not sure why anyone would want to anger Death; but then again, it's not my fantasy. In any event, at the behest of the Odd Squad-men possessed if ever I saw them – lights were rigged to provide illumination. That was something I oversaw, actually. Electronics is my field of expertise ... although considering the circumstances we keep meeting under, I wouldn't be surprised if you thought I wasn't much good at anything. Whenever the–"

Suddenly, a severe rumble rippled up from below them. Vir was utterly disconcerted. The sound was so deep, so all-encompassing, that for a moment he thought a fleet of Shadow vessels was soaring through the sky, their sheer weight causing vibrations as they passed. Lanas, for his part, didn't seem especially put out.

"And we're getting those more often, too," he said as the trembling subsided.

"Quakes? Why? Is this area built on a fault line?"

"Not to the best of our knowledge, no. But it keeps happening just the same. No one knows what causes it."

We do.

Vir looked up, confused and surprised when he heard that.

"You do?" he asked.

"No, I just said we didn't." Lanas looked utterly confused. "Was I somehow unclear?"

We know. Get out of there, Vir. Matters are moving faster than we anticipated.

There was no longer any need for hesitation on Vir's part, for naturally he knew just who was most likely to be projecting commentary directly into his skull. In an instant, he was on his feet, and through clenched teeth he said to Lanas, "I have to go. Thank you for your hospitality."

"But I wasn't being particularly hospitable..."

"You didn't try to threaten me, terrorize me, or toss me into prison. These days, that's enough for me to consider myself ahead of the game. It's been charming. Have to go. Bye."

Rem Lanas stared in confusion as Vir bolted out the door so fast that it barely had time to slide open for him. Then he just shook his head and murmured, "I've heard that Babylon 5 does strange things to a man. But until I met Vir Cotto, I never realized just how strange."

When Vir stepped out of the building, he looked to his right, then to his left. At that point he was tapped on the shoulder with enough force that it caused him to jump slightly, startled. Then he glared at the three techno-mages who were standing exactly where Vir had been looking, moments before.

"How do you do that?" he demanded in exasperation.

"A magician never reveals his tricks," Kane informed him.

"Yes, but you're not a magician. You're a cloister."

"True," Kane admitted.

"Have no fear, Kane," Finian said brightly. "I suspect once we are finished with this business, we will no longer be looked upon as cloisters."

"I'm so happy for the both of you," Gwynn responded sarcastically. She turned to Vir and said, "Vir, you're an ambassador. You're a high-ranking official for the Centauri. You must tell them to cease the excavation immediately."

"Excellent idea," said Vir. He paused. "And what reason should I give?"

"That if they continue on this course, they will enable beings of great evil to obtain power that should not be theirs. This they will, in turn, utilize for wholesale death and destruction."

"They may not buy that," Vir said.

"Vir," Kane said urgently, "time is not our friend."

"Then why don't you stop this excavation! Conjure up some ghosts to scare the people away; they think the place is haunted as it is. Or just ... just magic everyone back to Centauri Prime, to buy some time. I don't know, something, anything."

"Our mandate is clear – we can only observe," Gwynn said. As urgent as her plea had been, clearly she was the most aggressive stickler for protocol of all of them. "We act on behalf of each other, for mutual protection, but that is all we are supposed to do, unless we are otherwise instructed..."

"As I was instructed to take steps to save Sheridan's life, for example," said Kane.

"Okay, okay, fine," said Vir with a growing lack of patience. "So if that's the case, then why don't you manage to go get some new instructions, okay? Just wave your ... your magic wand, or whatever, to find out whether you can do something about the current situation. You know, the one involving all sorts of evil that could be unleashed on the galaxy while we're standing here discussing the fine points of Techno-maging 101."

Kane did not seem amused.

"My associates and I are endeavoring to inform the techno-mages of the present situation, but in the meantime–"

"Endeavoring?" Vir looked at them questioningly. "What do you mean, `endeavoring'? Is there some problem?"

The cloisters looked at each other with a combination of annoyance and uncertainty.

"Our initial attempts to contact them have ... fallen short," Kane admitted.

"Fallen short? How? How fallen short? How short, I mean?"

"We've been unable to reach them," Gwynn said flatly. "There is something about this place that interferes with our communications spells."

"Forget the spells! Pick up a phone! Use some standard means of communication!"

"The techno-mages cannot be contacted through any `standard means.'"

"Oh, right, right," Vir said sourly. "That's a sign of just how advanced they are; you can't reach them at all."

"We'll keep trying," said Kane. "In the meantime, you do what you can."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Vir told them. "I'll find out who's in charge and use whatever authority I can to get things shut down, at least for a while. But I'm warning you right now, whoever's running the dig probably isn't going to take me all that seriously. Most people don't."

Kane stepped forward and put his hands firmly on Vir's arms.

"We do. We take you most seriously, Vir. We have every confidence in you. If you can't get this done, then no one can."

 

"No one can tell me what to do," Renegar said. Renegar was the most jowly Centauri that Vir had ever seen. He was large and beefy, his hair cut unfashionably and defiantly short. He had thick lips, small eyes, and arms so powerful that they looked capable of snapping Vir in half with little to no difficulty. And when Renegar spoke, it was with a deep raspy voice that seemed to originate from his knees. He was, quite simply, not someone with whom Vir wanted any difficulties. Renegar sat behind his desk in his office, both of which seemed too small for him. There was a good deal of clutter about. Vir would never have known, to look at him, that this fellow was in charge of anything of any importance, let alone an excavation mandated by someone as highly positioned as Durla, the minister of internal security.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Vir assured him quickly.

"That's a relief," said Renegar. He did not, however, sound relieved. He just sounded as annoyed as he had been when Vir had first come knocking on his door.

"But certainly," Vir continued gamely, "you must know that there's something wrong on this world. You've had people disappearing from this project in alarming numbers."

"Centauri are soft." There was clear disgust in his voice. "That's always been our problem. Whenever any sort of difficulty is involved, we fold up. Call it quits. In some ways, you have to admire the Narn. Say what you want about them, but we conquered them and they still never quit. Took them years and years, but they fought for their freedom and obtained it. We wouldn't fight for freedom. Someone conquered us, we'd roll over and die, and that would be that."

"I'm so pleased we're having the opportunity to discuss this," Vir said, "but it's not exactly what I wanted to focus on right now, if that's okay. People aren't just leaving because they're tired or bored or they've had enough. There is a great evil here, and your men are in terrible danger. Terrible, terrible danger."

"And you know this ... how?" inquired Renegar.

"Sources."

"What sort of sources?"

Vir endeavored to remember just where Renegar was on the social scale. He drew himself up haughtily, or at least as close to haughtily as he could get, and informed Renegar, "The sort of sources who choose not to be identified at this time."

"So you can't tell me."

"That is correct."

"And this great danger facing us ... you can't tell me about that, either."

"I'm afraid not."

"But I'm just supposed to halt work on this project, on your say-so. Tell me, Ambassador Cotto, do you know Minister Durla?"

"I've ... had some dealings with him, yes," said Vir somewhat wryly.

"Minister Durla, he's not vague at all. He tells me exactly what he wants done, and exactly when he wants it done by. Because of that, I tend to listen to him. Have you taken this matter up with him?"

"No."

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