'Yeah?'
'Yeah.'
It seemed that everywhere he turned, Londo saw a place where someone had died. That corner, where Malachi had breathed his last. That room, where Dugari had been murdered. That doorway, where the guardsman had fought off the Shadow Criers.
It was worst of all in the throne room. He could still see the patch of blood on the floor where Lyndisty's body had lain. He could still see the scuffs in the carpet where he and Cartagia had fought.
And he could still hear Cartagia's mocking words.
'The Republic will be finished before the century's over, Mollari. I know that, and so do you. Who wants to be known as the Emperor who guided us into oblivion? Not me.'
Not for the first time, Londo swore to prevent Cartagia's final prophecy. Each time he repeated that oath, however, the words came harder and harder to his lips.
The last year had been hard, so very hard. Famine had struck savagely, the uncultivated farmlands unable to provide anywhere near enough food for the Republic. Thousands had died. The breadbasket of Gorash 7 had supplied as much food as it could, but its resources were strained to breaking-point just recovering from the Narn occupation, and the number of ships available to transport food was pitifully small.
Immolan was troubled by pirates again, not an uncommon occurrence. The new Lord-General Carn Mollari was unable to muster enough ships to protect the major shipping lanes, let alone hunt down the raiders.
Time and again, Londo had swallowed his pride and asked Durano to appeal to the Alliance for help. Aid had come eventually, but only when Delenn had personally intervened. There were too many races prominent in the Alliance Council with no cause to love the Centauri, no cause at all, and who were only too willing to see the Republic starve. Oh, aid shipments were promised, but aid was needed everywhere and it was easy for promises not to be fulfilled.
And all the while, more and more people died.
And now this.
'The initial task force will only be five. They will of course be working alone, without any need for staff or suchlike. They have already marked out specific territories to investigate, and there is a list of people they will wish to interview. It would be much easier were these people to be available for interrogation in a place difficult for them to escape from. They would be caught eventually of course, but that would only take up more time and add to the overall unpleasantness, and neither of us wants that, do we?
'Their needs are modest, a room or so each at specified places. Two will be operating out of the palace. The homeworld is obviously the most important place to begin. Of the other three, one is to be based on Gorash, one on Immolan and the other on Frallus. Other worlds will be dealt with subsequently. The immediate priority is to find anyone who may have been working with the Enemy and is still in a position of authority, or of course those in lower positions working in espionage or informant roles. A list of all escaped fugitives will be drawn up and handed over to the proper authorities at Babylon Five and Kazomi Seven.
'Do you have any questions, Majesty?'
'Yes,' Londo said, looking closely at Mr. Morden. 'What did you call these.... investigators again?'
'Their names are really not important. If they wish to introduce themselves to you, that will be up to them, but if you meant their title, they are usually known as Inquisitors.'
'Inquisitors, hmm? Well, a very fine-sounding title. We had some by that name once. Quite a long time ago it was, during one of our darker periods. They.... hunted down people who were felt to be enemies of the State, or of the Church. When they found such people, or fabricated evidence to incriminate innocent people, they burned them alive, as a warning to all other enemies of the State.'
'I was aware of this, Majesty. Several cultures have had similar groups of people.'
'I was not finished, Mr. Morden. Do you know the strange thing about these Inquisitors? They were very good at their job. Reports state sometimes hundreds, if not thousands, of these 'enemies of the State' were executed daily at some stages. But no matter how many they burned, there were always so many more. It seemed as though there were more enemies of the State when they finished than there had been when they started.'
'Ours are a little more efficient.'
'So I see,' Londo said, holding up the list of names of potential 'interviewees'. 'Lord-General Carn Mollari, hmm. Oh, I know these names. Several captains of my, and I use the word carefully these days, 'fleet'. Almost all of them in fact. Kiron Maray, yes. Lady Drusilla Marrago. Oh look, half of my Government, I am so pleased you have not forgotten them.
'Ah, regional bureaucrats and directors, yes. Oh, a lot of the Parliament at Selini, the ones who voted me in as Governor, the ones that are still alive at any rate. Tax inspectors and collectors. Prominent churchmen. Well, if anyone needs an inquisition, it would be them I suppose. Half, no, wait, three-quarters of my Palace Guard.
'Lennier, of the third Fane of Chudomo. Why, Mr. Morden, whatever can a Minbari name be doing down here? I thought it was just us Centauri who bargained with dark forces during the war. Well, well. It seems as though aliens are just as guilty as we are. I'll be damned. I never knew that.
'Ah, and my dear lady wife, Timov. I would rather you be the one to tell her that than I. She has a very fearsome temper you know, and I have had enough crockery thrown at me in this lifetime already, thank you.'
Londo handed the paper back to Morden, who maintained his carefully neutral expression. 'A most comprehensive list, Mr. Morden. I can see that a great deal of work must have gone into it. Alas, I fear there is at least one name you are missing.'
'Oh, Majesty?'
'Londo Mollari. A particularly shifty sort, by all accounts. Just the sort of person your Inquisitors would want to talk to. He had a position of some power within the Republic, although not as much as you do of course. He also knows almost everyone on this list.
'Come now, Mr. Morden, did you think you could question almost everyone I know, accuse them with these lies, and not expect to have to question me as well?'
Londo leapt up from his throne, and knocked the papers from Morden's hand. 'Did you really think you would get away with this? With slandering and insinuating these things about these people? Not one of your Inquisitors will set one foot on any world in the Republic, or I will remove that foot!
'I am Emperor here. Not you.'
Morden remained impassive. 'I hadn't forgotten that, Majesty, but evidently you've forgotten something. Everything the Inquisitors wish to do, including their presence here, is authorised by the treaty that you signed when you joined the Alliance. I have seen that treaty. It bears the signature of your authorised representative on Kazomi Seven, Ambassador Durano — or are you trying to tell me it is a forgery?
'Ambassador Durano will also be questioned, but that will take place on Babylon Five. I understand the bureaucratic centre of the Alliance is slowly being transferred there. Council meetings will be held there soon, I am given to understand.'
'Not one Inquisitor, Mr. Morden. Not one.'
'What makes you think you have a choice in this, Your Majesty? A breach of your treaty obligations would have grave repercussions. It might lead certain parties to think you have something to hide, things you don't want the Alliance to find out about.
'I might also lead to trade sanctions, jump gate blockades.
'A cessation of aid shipments.'
'You bastard!'
'That treaty was signed by your representative, Majesty. We are only enforcing the rights you gave us.'
'Not Timov. You will not touch her.'
Morden smiled, a slight smile of triumph, and not the only one Londo had seen. 'I might be able to persuade them that it is not necessary to question her.'
'Good.' Londo sat back down on the throne. 'You will not touch her.' He thought everyone else was gone. He had sent them away, or so he thought, but Morden had just given him an object lesson. Wherever they went, he could touch them.
It was at that point that an Imperial Courier entered the throne room. His face was ashen white.
'Majesty,' he said. 'There is bad news.'
