The feeling passed, and she crawled forward to Delenn, who was still lying on the floor, cowering. She tried to turn Delenn’s head, and was met by the full force of her brilliant green eyes.

Eyes which seemed dulled and empty.

“Who… are you?” Delenn whispered. “Who… am… I?”

Lyta said nothing, unable to think of anything to say. She cradled Delenn’s head in her lap and called for Zack. The Security Chief hobbled into the room, looking pale-faced and queasy.

“What…?” he tried to say. “What?”

“Find her,” Lyta snapped, giving orders as naturally as if she’d been born to it. “Don’t let her get away.”

Zack snapped, almost unconsciously, to attention. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Er… should I call for Dr. Kyle as well?”

A doctor? Lyta looked at Delenn. Yes, of course she would need a doctor. “Yes, and you’d better get Commander Corwin or… Captain Sheridan down here as well.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said a voice she recognised. Looking up, she saw Corwin enter, flanked by two security guards. “They were told to report in every half an hour. When they didn’t, I came to investigate. What happened here?”

“She’s dying,” Lyta snapped. “Get a doctor.”

Corwin looked at her and then down at Delenn. He activated his link. “Dr. Kyle, get a med-team to room ninety-nine, block beta, level thirty-five, ASAP. Mr. Allan, I believe you have some work to do.”

Zack snapped to attention again. “Yes, sir.” He glanced at Lyta and left, taking the other two security guards with him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened here?” Corwin asked Lyta. “Or should I just piece everything together myself?”

She looked up. “I… I don’t know exactly what happened.”

“It appears your suspicions were right. Tell me, what exactly made you suspicious?”

“A… feeling. It’s hard to explain. I just knew.”

“Trust me to expect simple answers from a telepath,” he muttered. “What about… her?” He looked at Delenn, and his eyes widened. Lyta discreetly moved to the bed – slanted as per Minbari style – and grabbed a blanket – as per human style – which she draped over Delenn. Delenn stirred a little, but still said nothing. “God’s name, what happened to her?”

“I don’t… I can’t explain it, because I don’t really know myself.”

“Funny. That’s usually my job. I don’t suppose your feelings tell you where the Captain is?”

“No, and I don’t particularly care.”

“Well, I do. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. I don’t like this. I really do not like this.”

The Captain was currently sleeping. A quiet, peaceful, dreamless sleep for the first time in years.

No staying up late drinking ersatz coffee staring into the darkness around him. No reliving the sight of Earth as he had last seen it. No endless nightmares about the Minbari coming for him and him being unable to stop them. No billions of voices screaming his name.

Nothing but the quiet, peaceful dreamless sleep of those who have finally found happiness.

Anna looked at the sleeping form of her husband and smiled slowly. She reached down to touch his hair. He muttered something in his sleep and rolled over. She rose from the bed and looked at him, still smiling.

She had been watching him for several hours now. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well – years of drinking herself into a stupor every night had made it difficult for her to sleep without drinking and she was determined not to go back to that. Sometimes she found herself yearning for another drink, but now she didn’t need one.

For over two years – since their daughter Elizabeth had been killed in the Minbari attack on Orion 7 – Anna and John Sheridan had both been living in a twilight, shadow world. She had crawled into a bottle, and he had crawled on to the bridge of the Babylon. Neither had left their chosen refuge in all that time, certainly not mentally, even on the rare occasions they had done so physically.

And last night, they had finally come together again.

Anna had been watching her husband sleep for some time. She had done this sometimes during their marriage when she couldn’t sleep. They were frequently apart, but they always made up for it when they were together. She had always seen John’s constant anger and worry and fears fade as he slept. When he did sleep, he was the same fresh-faced, enthusiastic man he had been when Liz had introduced the two of them over ten years ago.

She remembered all the times in his father’s garden, when they had sat and looked around and just… been together. The smell of orange blossom had been so beautiful then. She had taken to sprinkling it around this room – partly to hide the smell of her Narn liquor, but also in memory of that time. One of her greatest sorrows was that she would never be able to take Elizabeth to that garden. Both Elizabeth and the garden were gone now. Gone forever, except in memories… and dreams.

Anna looked at John’s link, lying on the side where he had placed it. All too often they had been interrupted by business before, but they would not be now.

She had deactivated it as he slept.

Whatever turmoils gripped the outside world would not touch their brief moment of happiness. For now at least, John and Anna Sheridan were together again, and that was what mattered.

The outside world would just have to get by without them both for a while.

“This had better be important,” Lord Refa was muttering to himself as he waited in the Conference Hall. The other members of the Resistance Government – except President Crane, who was still ill – were gathered there. Refa looked around at his companions in this unexpected late night soirée.

Vice President Clark was bleary-eyed, and looked as though he had just got out of bed. He yawned frequently and blinked a lot. He was also talking to anyone who would listen, which was no one.

General Takashima was engaging Clark’s interest a little with an occasional remark. The two seemed to be discussing Lieutenant – or perhaps Ambassador – Ivanova, about whom Refa had heard a lot, but whom he had not yet met. She sounded interesting, and he wondered just how much Sinoval would want whatever information he picked up about her. Their conversation was quiet however, and he could not hear much, and so he switched his attentions elsewhere.

Mr. Welles did not look tired. He did not look, in fact, as if he had ever been asleep. He was watching, interested and perhaps even intrigued. Refa recognised the type of man he was from a number of his contemporaries, who all possessed the same outward calm and silence. Others underestimated such people. Refa did not. Welles would need watching.

General Hague was, however, easy to dismiss. He looked haunted, his face gaunt. He clearly had not been asleep either, but unlike Mr. Welles, his fatigue showed clearly. Hague was on the verge of falling, and whether he fell to his death or started flying was of no concern to Refa.

Being rousted out of bed at this hour of the night was, however. Refa had been on this wasteland for five days now, and he had picked up the barest word about Satai Delenn – the real reason he was here. Sinoval and the rest of the Grey Council wanted confirmation of her status here. Such information could be doctored fairly easily for Sinoval’s – and Refa’s own – benefit, but first of all he needed information to doctor, and all he had found so far was that there was a Minbari aboard Captain Sheridan’s ship – the Babylon. That was not nearly enough.

And to top it all off, Vir had gone missing. Confounded moron! He was never around when he was needed. When Refa returned in glory to Centauri Prime and sat upon the Imperial Throne he would have much better servants than Vir Cotto – and that was a fact.

The door to the hall opened and he looked up as a human woman entered. She was dishevelled and limping slightly, but he could easily see the power and authority in her bearing. He supposed she would be considered quite beautiful, but his unfortunate experience with his own wife – who had many unpleasant characteristics, but her looks were not one of them – had biassed him against beautiful women. They couldn’t be trusted. That applied to ugly women as well, for that matter.