have rarely acted openly, if this is indeed them. They are many thousands of years in advance of us. When a few of our ships fought them at the Battle of the Second Line, there were scanning problems then.'
'Well then,' said Durano, enunciating clearly and obviously deep in thought. 'There are three options. Firstly, this evidence concerning the Shadow involvement is a forgery by the Kha'Ri or others, and this may or may not be known to the Alliance. They may be taken in by the forgery, or they may be in league with the forgers.
'Secondly, the Shadows may be intervening here, not to assist us in any way, but to sow discord and mistrust between ourselves and the Alliance.
'And thirdly, someone has made such an alliance with the Shadows, without the knowledge or consent of this body. This alliance may have been made as part of a personal quest for power, possibly a legacy of the Shadow Criers, or may be for purely altruistic reasons, a genuine desire to help our people.'
'Have we been able to examine this evidence?' asked the Empress Timov in her clipped tones. There were several who looked at her uncomfortably. No woman had sat in government for centuries, and she had a most unpleasant habit of saying exactly what she thought.
'The Alliance have.... ah.... refused to forward us a copy,' said Foreign Minister Vir Cotto. 'I hope to be able to discuss matters with Ha'Corarm'ah G'Kar and other members of the Council, with the aim of obtaining one.'
'Are they willing to help us uncover the truth behind this?' asked Vitari. 'We have been closely linked with them since your ascension, Majesty. Surely there are some there who trust you.'
'There are some there, I believe, who trust me. However, reasons of politics prevent them from working with us except under certain conditions. They desire a military presence in Centauri space, observation teams and various other means of assuring no such alliance exists. I will not under any circumstances compromise our security or our sovereignty, even to people who are meant to be our allies.'
'Then what do you recommend, Majesty?' asked Durano.
The Emperor looked directly at him. 'Durano.... find the truth here. Do whatever you must, talk to whomever you wish. Uncover the truth behind this. Marrago, our plans for further expansion into Narn–held territories will have to be curtailed. The homeworld, Tolonius and Immolan must be defended. Vir, you will have to try to talk some sense into the Alliance.... and Timov, my dear.... trade will be vastly diminished by this. We will have to find another way to provide the necessary income.'
'No problem, Londo darling,' she said airily. 'Maybe I can sell my internal organs on the black market?'
He did not laugh. 'This meeting is over. These matters are our highest priority. The Centauri people need us all.
'We must not fail them.'
Marrago's eyes were dark.
'We should have brought some Security along.'
'And told them what?' Welles snapped. It was dark here. It was meant to be, of course. This way it was less likely that anyone would be able to follow Clark's trail. ''Hi, remember me? I'm the one who was arrested a week or so ago for breaking Delenn out of prison. We're going to find the President who's trying to blow up half the planet.' Besides, none of the guards here are my men any longer. Clark will have had a purge, no doubt. And....' He paused.
'And what?'
'I've seen how careless you are with other people's lives. The fewer people you have a chance to send to their deaths, the better.'
'You actually believe that, don't you? You're just a child. I don't believe it! Behind all that darkened cynicism, you're a political child. You have no idea how the universe works.'
'Oh, I understand how the universe works all too well. I've just got tired of playing along. Everything's falling apart here quite nicely without my help.'
'Then why are you helping me?'
'Because.... what Clark's doing is based on a lie. I don't like lies.'
'There's something else, isn't there?'
'You could say that. There are.... two people who would want me to do something.'
Ambassador Sheridan made as if to say something, but then fell silent. None of this really mattered. It was an intellectual exercise that was irrelevant at the moment. In a way, Welles represented the Shadows' viewpoint - he faced trials and ordeals and emerged strengthened as a result. He would be stronger still if he survived this. He might even recognise the irony in that.
The darkened corridors continued to loom around him, and he wondered at the manufacture of these escape tunnels. He had never even known of their existence, yet Welles navigated through them with clear precision, despite not being able to see where they were going.
He felt very alone. For the first time he could recall, he was without his Shadow companions. Clark and his pet Vorlon had killed one, and the other had been destroyed by whatever weapon the Vorlons had unleashed. Even now, Sheridan's head was still pounding with the telepathic scream that rang in his ears. He wondered what they had done, but realised this was not the time for questions. He trusted and believed in his alien allies, and this was how he served them.
'Here we are,' Welles said, stopping by a part of the wall that looked to Sheridan in the dim light to be exactly like the rest of it.
'How are you so sure?'
'One of the many wonders of a near–perfect memory. As Security chief I had access to all these maps and studied them very carefully. Unfortunately I don't have the access codes to deactivate the defence grid, although I may be able to delay it for a bit.' He paused again, thinking. 'Clark knows all this of course. I wouldn't be surprised if he was expecting me to show up.'
Welles touched a small pad and a doorway swung open. A dead body fell out to meet him. The Security officer's face was filled with blood, and a million things crunched inside his body.
'Of course I've been expecting you,' said a voice from inside the room. It was light in there, and as Welles and Sheridan stepped through, Clark was visible, sitting comfortably on the one chair in the room. A mass of bodies decorated the floor. Every one had been cut apart.
'Was all that necessary?' Welles snarled as he stepped inside.
'Well, it wouldn't have been if they had agreed to my doing what I have to do. For some reason they were.... not receptive. The security guard even tried drawing a weapon on me.... his President. They all became casualties of war I'm afraid, but it won't matter. Shortly no one will even notice.'
'So.... when were you planning on activating the defence grid?' Welles asked, stepping forward to confront Clark. Sheridan sidled slowly into the corner.
Clark laughed. 'How stupid do you think I am? Do you think I would just be sitting here if there were things still undone? I activated everything seven minutes ago. Oh, I understand you may still be able to delay it, maybe get word to the Alliance ships who will arrive just in time to watch the last act of a falling dictator, turning weapons of destruction on his helpless people. They might even be able to do something, but they'll be too late for anything significant.'
Clark rose to his feet and walked around the desk. 'I am a dead man, a walking corpse. Once the Alliance got hold of me.... but no. I have to die here. My new friends have promised me that it will be for a good cause, and I even agree with them. I just wish I could stay behind to watch what all this will achieve. I really would like to see the aftermath of this, but.... ah.... such is life, I suppose.
'There is just one more thing I have to do.' Clark stopped directly in front of Welles. Sheridan began to move slowly towards him.
'And that is?' asked Welles.
'Say goodbye.'
There was a sound like a million hearts beating as one, and then a blaze of light. Clark's body literally exploded, and Sheridan heard a million voices shouting in his mind. It took him a moment to realise that they were all Clark screaming. A gust of air strong enough to shatter empires tore into his body and threw him back against the wall. A million things inside his body shattered, and his last sight before unconsciousness was of Welles being similarly broken.
And in his mind as darkness took him was the mocking, triumphant voice of the Vorlon.
