“I can understand the allure. Exotic, strange, alien, fascinating, beautiful… yes, some regard the Minbari as beautiful. But as I told you, I am a psychologist. I dig beneath the surface, and what I have seen beneath the surface of the Minbari is a race filled with pride and arrogance and delusions of their own superiority. Yes, they are powerful, but they have no idea of what to do with that power. They waste it, they abuse it… they are content to wait, passing away their days convinced in their own power, and if anyone dares challenge them – like us – then they respond with bloody, terrible force.

“That is the race you idolise, Miss Alexander! And that is the race you have helped! Never forget what they did to Earth! And don’t try and tell me that you have not lost someone you loved to them, because that would be a lie, and we both know it.

“You are of no value here. The only thing that makes you special is your gifts, and those you have misused.

“But perhaps, there is a use for you. The people, the ones you doubtless never see with your gloves and your badge and your insignia and your pride… the people are angry and scared and worried. They want a scapegoat, an offering if you will. Something to appease the gods before the Minbari arrive.

“Satai Delenn was to be that offering, but she is gone, and so there will have to be a replacement. The Resistance Government will offer you.

“We will not meet again, Miss Alexander. Rest well, and have pleasant dreams.”

Welles rose to his feet and headed for the door. He had nearly lost control for a moment, but he had managed to rein himself in. He was breathing rapidly now, anxious to be out of here. He needed to rest, needed to think, needed to control himself.

“I… I…” Miss Alexander was trying to speak. Welles turned, and listened. “I… was right… I know… I was… right.”

“Then you know nothing at all. Good day, Miss Alexander.”

Welles left, and closed the door.

“Ah, Lady Elrisia. A pleasure as always.” Londo inclined his head in a gesture of greeting – several inches short of what would be considered polite. Lady Elrisia might have a great deal of power – she was the caretaker of the entirety of Lord Refa’s estates in his, hopefully very long, absence – but that did not mean Londo had to respect her.

In a society where marriage for love was considered radical, dangerous and foolish, few marriages ended up happily, unless the participants were lucky. Londo had been anything but. Timov loathed him, Daggair was only using him for her social climbing and Mariel… the less said about her the better. He was however lucky in one respect. It had been Refa, not he, who had married the fair Lady Elrisia.

Physically, she was very beautiful, he had to admit. Even if it was the sort of beauty that came from jars and took several hours in the morning to arrange. And Elrisia was very shrewd, very intelligent and very ambitious. Good qualities in a man, very very bad qualities in a woman, especially one whose only real purpose was to continue the noble line, and look pretty, or upon occasion join two Houses. Intelligence did not enter into it.

Elrisia had satisfied the succession side of things – she and Refa had a son, who was currently parading around in the military, hoping to impress the Narns with his dress sense, no doubt. Elrisia had provided an impressive alliance between two Houses, so that part was done. And she had attended plenty of affairs and parties looking pretty. That should be enough for any woman, but noooo. She had to want more.

“Minister Mollari,” she said. “We were not expecting you in the Royal Court this morning. What brings you this far from your estates?”

“A… little business is all. Nothing important.”

“Is it connected to Lady Morella’s murder? A horrible business that. I hear the murderer is in custody?”

“A… suspect is in custody, Lady. His guilt has not yet been determined.”

“Oh really? Well, we have ways of determining guilt, don’t we, my dear?” She smiled at her companion.

Londo had met Cartagia a few times. Nephew of the late Emperor Turhan, Cartagia was peripherally connected to the royal line, and therefore bore watching. He was not an impressive addition to it, it had to be said. Londo half wondered whether he was still drooling – a habit from his childhood.

“Absolutely,” Cartagia said. “We can rustle up a few of the palace torturers… sorry… pain technicians. Pain technicians? I mean what sort of a stupid name is that? Really! You wouldn’t have thought the name would matter, would you, but nooooo, they’re all organised, and insist they’re called pain technicians. I don’t know. Anyway, we can soon sort this out.”

“Torture would be… ill–advised at present, lord.”

“Are you denying me my fun, Mollari? That’s not very pleasant of you, is it?”

“Shut up, dear,” Elrisia said calmly. Londo had never seen a member of Centauri royalty sulk before. It was quite an entertaining experience.

“My congratulations on your recent engagement,” Londo said. “Where is our Emperor anyway?”

“Resting. He had quite an… energetic night. He will be up in time for his audience with the Centarum. There is the matter of choosing a replacement for poor Urza, for one thing.”

“Yes,” Londo said, trying not to grit his teeth together. ’Poor Urza’ had been a friend. A good friend, and if his death had been an accident, then Londo was a Jovian treeworm.

“The Emperor and I have felt that you are overburdened in your current duties, Londo,” Elrisia said. “You have performed such sterling work that it didn’t seem right burdening you with more responsibilities when you should be resting. You are not as young as you once were.”

“My… duties to my people keep me young, my lady. Who… who will you recommend to the Centarum?”

“Oh, Lord Jarno has done wonderful work lately. He deserves some recognition, don’t you think?”

“Of course, my lady. You are quite right.” Lord Jarno? The man was an idiot! Londo remembered a speech he had given to the Centarum once. Afterwards, everyone had unanimously voted that he be sterilised in the best interests of the species. Of course, he was married to Lady Jarno, which amounted to the same thing really.

Lord Jarno was also known to gamble a little. No, he was known to gamble a lot. So did Londo, of course, but at least he knew when to quit. Lord Jarno didn’t, and as a result owed quite a sum to, of all people, Lord Refa. Under Centauri law, Refa – or the holder of his estates, Lady Elrisia – would be perfectly entitled to seize Jarno’s holdings as part payment of the debt. That would make him easily malleable, no?

“A fine choice,” Londo agreed. He had his own suspicions about recent ’accidental’ deaths on Centauri Prime, and his own suspicions about who was behind them. He was also far too old to be dodging assassination attempts all the time.

“We’re very glad you approve, Londo. I am sorry, but I think it is time I went and woke the Emperor up. Good day, Londo.”

“My lady. Prince Cartagia.” They departed, and Londo was left to mutter angrily to himself. Women in politics! Bah! Next thing she would want to be Emperor!

He badly needed a rest. And a drink. And a game of cards. And…

Traffic in to Proxima 3 was very rare these days. The whole colony was under tight control. With the arrival of the Minbari anticipated at any moment, few wanted to go there anyway. Especially not the Narns.

The Kha’Ri had officially refused any help to Proxima – ostensibly for reasons to do with their current, and rather uneventful, war with the Centauri. In fact, the Kha’Ri recognised a losing cause when they saw one, and were more than capable of thinking up ways to destroy their own ships without throwing them in front of a very angry Minbari armada. And for those members of the Kha’Ri – such as Councillor Na’Toth – who were aware of certain… deeper matters at work, helping a colony they might well end up having to fight at a future date did not make a great deal of sense. Ha’Cormar’ah G’Kar’s opinions on the matter were not recorded, but Ta’Lon knew that G’Kar would help if he could.