But first, she wanted to know why she was in the company of a man who was supposed to be long dead.
William Edgars smiled and nodded. "Yes, I can see that…. recent events might have been a…. burden, and I would like to apologise for that. Alas, it was necessary, I assure you. Nothing I do is ever without reason."
Something clicked. Catherine was not sure how to react to the insanity of this — the man who seemed to be confessing to ordering the deaths of her lover and her best friend was apologising for doing so! — but her instincts were not dying down. The phrasing, the syntax, the grammar….
"You're the one who questioned me earlier?" she asked. "You…. asked me about the G'Kar File."
"Ah yes, that was me. I apologise for the deception, but it was necessary again. That was too important to entrust to anyone else and I was afraid you might have recognised my voice…. it has been a long time of course, but not that long. So, the distortion was necessary. Unfortunately there are other aspects of speech which cannot be so easily hidden. Ah well…."
"But…." Catherine shook her head. "You're supposed to be dead!"
"Dead? Me? Well, maybe. Again, another deception. I'd made far too many enemies and there was a need to work…. behind the scenes, so to speak. Oh, I'm sorry. What am I thinking of?" He pressed a button on his desk and the restraints around Catherine's wrists slid open. She rose to her feet awkwardly. "Coffee? It's the real stuff, I assure you. Or perhaps orange juice? I do have some left here, you know. I used to love drinking orange juice as a child. Freshly squeezed, without any of the additives, preservatives, and bits and pieces we introduce to make our lives more bearable. No, sometimes I think nature was right in the beginning. Our lives are just too complicated now. Perhaps we should be thanking the Minbari for one thing. Whatever else we think of them, they have brought us back to the basics. Food, drink, shelter, survival…. What more do we truly need?"
"I don't know…. friendship, love, some kind of purpose?"
"Ah…. yes, perhaps. A romantic, then?"
"No. I just…. think there must be more than just survival. There's what we need to live, and there's why we want to live."
He nodded. "A…. wise attitude, and one returning to popularity, I believe. Oh, the coffee?" Catherine shook her head. She couldn't face anything at the moment.
"Now, I'm sure you have a number of questions, and this is…. for your benefit after all, so if you ask the questions, I'll attempt to answer them, to the best of my ability. Then we can sort out why you're here."
Questions. Yes. Answers…. yes, she wanted these too. Or did she?
"Why did you kill Dan?" she whispered. "And Julie? You…. were behind that?"
"Ah…. yes. Indirectly, I suppose. Mr. Randall was a…. complication who needed to be removed. Miss Musante was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mr. Morden assures me that her shooting was an unfortunate accident."
"An accident? You killed my best friend by accident?! And Dan, he was…. what? A complication? How can you talk about human lives that way? Don't they mean anything to you?"
"More than you'll ever know. But…. I see we'll have to do this another way. Care for a seat?" Catherine looked at the chair behind her suspiciously. "Oh no, not that one. There's one over here."
"I'd rather stand, thank you."
"As you wish. To begin…. well, at the beginning, I suppose, as a great man once said. Just after the war…."
Darkness was falling slowly over Kazomi 7. Valen — Jeffrey Sinclair — both — either — was standing on a balcony of the main building, watching thin tendrils of red light gradually retreating. He sighed, and was suddenly aware of a movement behind him.
"I'm sorry," said a not-unfamiliar voice. "I didn't realise…. I'll go…."
Valen turned, to see a human. It was one of those who had been present at the Rebirth Ceremony, the companion of Captain Sheridan. "No," he said softly. "Stay."
The human shrugged and stepped forward. He looked out over the horizon silently for a few minutes, lost in thought.
Valen studied him, and immediately found thousand-year-old memories rising to the forefront of his mind. This soldier…. Commander…. Corwin, that was it. He reminded him of many who had served under him…. before. Brave soldiers, noble warriors, good people, but…. always frustrated by how little they could serve, annoyed that their talents could only raise them so far. Each had reacted in different ways to this — some had sought to improve their talents and skills so that they could do all they desired; some had sunk into depression, into darkness, content with what they had when they could have had far more; and some…. some had let their own weaknesses twist and corrupt them, until they lost everything of what they had been…. like Marrain.
"I like it here," he said finally. "The city is full of such hope, a rebuilding from chaos and disaster, a look to the future."
"It's a place where millions died," replied Corwin. "I was here after the Drakh left, and there was no hope here then. Just people starving, and bleeding to death, and screaming from nightmares that never ended."
"And look at them now."
He snorted. "They're like children who are glad that their parents have stopped arguing, and afraid they'll start up again any time now. I'm looking, but I can't see…. anything."
"Why so pessimistic? You're sounding like…." He hesitated. Like Parlonn, who had looked out at the world and seen only darkness and despair. No matter how many times light was shown to him, he preferred to believe in the darkness. At the end, he had forgotten why he had ever been fighting.
"We bombed your world. We did. People just like me. We threw rocks from the sky, we poisoned your water and your ground, we brought so much death…. People like me. People who went back to Proxima after the battle, and went to wives and husbands, went to their family. 'And what did you do at work, today, darling?' 'I killed millions of people and destroyed an ancient civilisation. How about you?'" He laughed ironically, but it ended on a false note.
"Evil is within us all."
"I know that! But looking at it isn't easy. We were the good guys. All along we'd been the good guys." He shook his head. "Not any more. I'm wondering if we ever were." He paused, looking down. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You're…. one of them. Ever since Mars, there's been hardly anyone I could talk to about stuff like this. Susan's…. gone. The Captain…. has his own problems, and…. well…. there might be someone, but she's a long way away. I'd hoped to see her at Babylon Four, but she…. she wasn't there."
"Do you love her?"
"I…. I don't know. I think so, but then sometimes I think…. I don't know."
"Life is hard. Loving is even harder. There is evil in your soul, just as there is in mine, but that does not matter. You would never do what your people did at Minbar…. never. And you know you would not."
"Yeah…. yeah. I guess so, but…."
"There is one thing you must always remember, one thing the best of us have forgotten at times…. Why are you fighting?"
"Because…. it's…. in a good cause?"
Valen smiled. "Are you asking me, or telling me?"
"Because it's right."
"There you are. Remember that always, and never forget. The people who attacked Minbar…. they forgot."
He nodded. "I guess so." He left then, not saying another word.
Valen looked out over the cityscape. The last hints of sunlight had gone. The night was here. He sighed softly.
"So…. what is this ritual for, then?"
Delenn smiled and nodded, gesturing towards a small pattern drawn on the floor of her quarters. John looked at it, and cocked his head slightly. "It's…. a circle," he said. "Yup. Definitely a circle."
"Not just a circle," she corrected, with mock firmness.
"Um…. two circles joined together?"
"It represents the cycle of our lives. We are born, we live, each of us in our own circles of life…. At this point here," she pointed to a part of the pattern, "lives intersect and join, becoming one. Then, eventually…. the lives end, and we pass beyond." John looked down. Quickly, painfully, Delenn continued. "But the circle does not end." Her voice was thick. "It continues. We are born again, renewed. We live again. Death…. is not the end."
John nodded. "I…. see. Our…. souls will go on?"
"Yes. There are…. places where no shadows fall, where we can be united in death as we were in life, until our souls find new forms in new bodies."
"Ah…. yes. Do…. all your people believe this?"
"Most do. Not the warriors as such. They have…. different theories and beliefs, but my…. former…. caste, and the workers. Yes."
"So, what do we do in this ritual then?"
"It is quite simple. It is usually performed when…. the couple become so close as to be almost one. It is one of the final rituals before…. our spirits are joined, and become one."
"Right. Got you. I think."
"John." He looked at her. "I chose this ritual for what it symbolises as well as for what it is. I love you, and no matter what happens, we will be together…. afterwards."
He reached for her hand. "I believe you," he whispered.
Blinking away a single tear, she led him to the pattern drawn on the floor. There were three candles on the edge of the pattern — one at the top of one circle, another at the top of the other and the third in the area where they overlapped.