“I cannot, she replied. ”This was mentioned in our prophecies. I saw my change in a vision I experienced on Babylon Four. It will bring my people and yours closer together. I must do this.“

“I don’t place any trust in prophecies or visions.” She looked at him and saw the pain in his eyes. He had seen something in the future on Babylon 4. Although she did not know the specifics, she could see how it troubled him. She walked slowly around the table to his side and placed one hand on his arm. She met his eyes, and then smiled, not voicing her own concerns.

If the one part of her vision was true – her change – then would the rest of it also be true? She had seen Minbar in ruins and herself standing over his grave. Would that come to pass in spite of her change – or because of it?

“For another thing,” he said. “You don’t know what that machine will do to you. It might even kill you. And… our races can never be brought together. None of us here trusts Minbari. Nor do I – except for you, of course – and we both know what will happen when Sinoval is made leader.”

“The machine was given to me by Valen himself,” she said. “I trust in his wisdom. But Sinoval… it will be soon now. Our mourning is almost over. What will emerge from it will be dark and terrible, far worse than anything we have seen so far.”

“I don’t think it can get much worse, and we’ll hardly be unprepared this time. Could the… Shadows defeat your people?”

“Perhaps… probably. It depends on so many things… and on this. That is why I must divert the course of the Council. If I complete the prophecy, I may be able to wrench control of the council from Sinoval, show them what Valen showed me, and alert them to who the true enemy is.”

“But it’s too far for us. We won’t stop until you’re all dead, and now we’ve got the potential to do that. And I’m the one who gave it to them.”

Delenn saw the guilt in his eyes, and it mirrored almost exactly the guilt in her own. Yes, he might have been the door to the alliance between the Shadows and the humans, but she had been the one who had made that door possible in the first place.

“Tell me of your recent mission,” she said. “I hear so little down here.”

He smiled, recognising a deliberate change in subject when he heard one. Then his smile evaporated as he remembered what she was asking about.

“Ragesh Three was an agricultural colony, for God’s sake. Completely useless. The Narns took it from the Centauri in the last war, but never did anything with it. The Centauri attacked anyway. The Kha’Ri responded of course, and they wanted me along as back up. There wasn’t much of a firefight and the Centauri pulled out as soon as things got tense, but it’s got the Kha’Ri really rattled. Na’Toth’s speaking out against war, and so is anyone else in G’Kar’s little conspiracy, but they’re very quiet voices indeed. I’ll give it a few months tops, and then… poof! Another war on our hands.”

“So much death,” she whispered softly. “Always so much death.”

His link activated. It was Corwin. “We’re about an hour out of Proxima now, Captain.”

“Good,” Sheridan replied. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. There’s a message from the Resistance Government. You’re not going to like this, Captain.”

Lyta Alexander walked through the corridors of power as if she’d been born to them. She paid no attention to those she passed, and why should she? She was a telepath – one of the élite, gifted few who would change the world. That was what Psi Corps had told her.

She hadn’t been able to change the world, though. The Minbari had got there first.

Psi Corps, with all its rules, rankings and regulations, did not exist any more. The Minbari had taken that from her as well. But to some, Psi Corps would never die. One such was on Proxima 3 now, and he would want to see her. He was currently meeting with Vice President Clark, General Takashima, General Hague and Mr. Welles, but he would want to see her soon.

She had someone else to see first.

She waited outside the door, hoping that he was here. The two of them hadn’t spent much time together recently. He hadn’t said much by way of explanation, but she knew he was up to something and it involved that woman.

Lieutenant – or perhaps that should be Ambassador – Ivanova stood at the door as it opened. Lyta saw her eyes widen with fear and hatred. Then she stepped back.

“Marcus, honey,” she said sweetly. “It’s for you.”

Marcus came to the door and brushed past Ivanova, who smiled sweetly at him. The smile twitched as she looked at Lyta, and then she disappeared back inside.

Lyta was about to speak when she realised she needed more than words. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him. It was not their first kiss, but his reaction was one of surprise and stillness, and a slow, halting response. Then she hugged him and felt his arms around her.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“I’ve… missed you too.”

Slowly and casually, she slipped into his mind. Familiar territory for her now. He didn’t seem to know when she did this, but it always made her feel comfortable.

“What’s happening?” she asked. “This is Captain Sheridan’s idea, isn’t it?” He didn’t need to answer. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Be careful, Marcus. She’s dangerous. I don’t know what, but…” (The other voice in her mind, the one who spoke to her as she slept, was screaming at her now.) “Just be careful.”

“I… will,” he said slowly. His mind was calm, outwardly at least, although he was hiding something. That was rare, for him to try to hide things from her.

Her link activated. “Miss Alexander, the Resistance Government would like to see you as soon as possible.”

She sighed. “I… have… to…”

“I know.”

She kissed him again and left. He watched her go, noting the way she kept adjusting her skirt or her gloves or the Psi Corps badge she still wore.

(And he remembered the way Susan touched him, kissed him, slid herself next to him…)

Susan was alone at last. No, not alone – she was never alone – but Marcus was not with her. She could feel her friends’ anger. Why did she let him stay? She guessed that Sheridan was experiencing some reservations about her and her friends. That Minbari witch was poisoning him, and it was at her bidding that he’d sent Marcus here to spy on him.

So why hadn’t she got rid of him? An ’accident’ or a Keeper. They might be noticed, but so what? Sheridan was already under the thumb of that Minbari whore, and Clark already had a Keeper. Who else here possessed enough power to worry about?

So why hadn’t she?

She knew the answer. It was the look in his eyes the first time she’d tried to seduce him. Such terror. He’d backed away, mumbling excuses, afraid even to look at her.

The second attempt had also failed, but the third… that had succeeded. He had been a virgin, and afterwards he had cried. So sweet, so naïve, so innocent…

So why had it affected her so badly? Was his innocence a reminder of her own before Psi Corps had taken her mother?

And Psi Corps. That was another problem, a more terrifying one. She could feel the twinges in Lyta’s psi-power, and this… Bester was far stronger than she’d thought possible. She could feel him now, his mind… like a cloud that shadowed everything else around it.

“Telepaths to the left of me, telepaths to the right,” she whispered. “You promised I’d be safe. You… promised.”

And then she felt another brief twinge of psi-power and her eyes widened.

“She has a Vorlon inside her.”

The Shadows knew this too. And they were angry.

Mr. Welles was a quiet man, and unflappable, skills which had served him well in the past. He had a knack for blending in so that he was seldom noticed, unless he chose to be. And he had a photographic memory, all talents that he knew well how to use.