Out of the Darkness (34 page)

In a way, it seemed that she was not looking at the ceiling... but through it. Through it to a place light-years away, to events that she could not see, could not possibly know about ... and yet, somehow, she did...

The moment G'Kar felt the fingers tighten on his throat, he knew there was no backing out. He knew that he was in the fight of his life ... a fighter his life. But he wasn't looking at Londo as he redoubled his efforts to crush the emperor's throat. His focus was entirely on the eye that was peering back at him ... the single, unblinking eye.

He saw terror in it, and from that terror, he drew strength.

Harder, Londo! Save us! Save us! We do not want to die!

Londo saw the fearsome red eye of G'Kar, and it was looking to his side. He realized that, at the last, G'Kar's battle was not with him, but with the thing on his shoulder. Londo's mind was almost detached from what was happening. In a way, it was symbolic. The keeper was the incarnation of all the dark, background forces that had made Londo their puppet for so many years.

And even as he thought that, his efforts increased, his death grip on G'Kar's throat redoubled. Strength flowed from the panic that the keeper fed into him, and he wanted to scream
Faster, G'Kar! Faster! End it before it's too late!
But he could say nothing, for his windpipe was already crushed. He had no chance, and still he fought on.

Londo! You can stop him! You can kill the Narn and we can live on, and it will be much better, you will have more time for yourself, we can do this thing for you, we will treat you better, and the Drakh will make things better, love us, Londo, stop him!

Londo had heard that, when one is dying, one's life flashes before one's eyes ...

As G'Kar's fingers burrowed deeper, his mind further disassociated, and he waited, and saw nothing ... and there was still nothing, and time stretched out and continued to warp around him and there was nothing...

Nothing...

Londo... fight... fight... help us... Shiv'kala... Drakh, masters of shadow, help us... do not flee, do not run, help us, help your servants...

Words ... so many words ...

It was incredible to G'Kar. He had been a warrior, with no patience for words, and yet words had become his weapon, cutting more deeply than any blade, smashing down more doors than any strength of arm. Words, words came floating back to him...

No one here is exactly what they seem...

I did not fight to remove one dictator just to become another myself...

There s someone else out there, Na'Toth...

The future isn't what it used to be...

These and hundreds of others tumbled around, fighting to be noticed, to be remembered and treasured and cherished one final time, one final moment before sliding off into oblivion.

He shoved forward, tumbling to the floor, his hands still wrapped around Londo's throat, his eye still fixed on the malevolent creature staring back at him. He desperately wanted to hear the mouthless creature scream. He thought, in some way, he actually heard it doing so. Not hear it... feel it... Feel it... feel it all...

Feel the agony of seeing his father hanging from a tree, telling his son with his dying breath that he was proud of him...

Feel the warmth of the blood splattering on him ... the blood of the first Centauri he killed...

Feel the pain of Delenn's gravity rings crushing him... Feel the loss, the humiliation, the betrayal of his people at the hands of Londo Mollari...

Feel the ignominy of being forced from the council after the Narn had fallen ... and the swell of desperate pride as he made his exit speech...

Feel the agony of the eye being torn from his face ... that was as nothing compared to Cartagia's lash upon his back...

Feel the momentary glory of triumph, breaking free of his bonds in Cartagia's throne room, seeing the shock of his Centauri captors as they realized just what it was they were facing...

Feel the serenity of his writings...

Feel the friendship for Londo that he never thought could occur...

Feel the pride in accomplishment ... the softness of a woman's skin pressed against him ... the smell of fresh air ... the warmth of a sunrise ... the coolness of a sunset ... the hands around his throat... the pain... receding... the job... not done... not quitting... wetness ... on his hands, Londo's tears flowing, sobbing at his fate, tears on G'Kar 's hands... the hand... of the king... saving the king... saving the realm... saving...

Londo! Do not stop! You can save us! The darkness... there are things in it... I am afraid of the darkness... Londo... love us... Londo... Londo...

Nothing... there was nothing... he was ...

I saw nothing... not a thing...

When Kosh emerged from the encounter suit ... to save Sheridan that time ... Londo had been standing there ... and the words, the whispered wonderment...

Valeria ... Droshalla... G'Lan...

They all saw ... something ... and Londo, squinting against the light... saw ...

I saw nothing... not a thing...

Nothing... the nothingness of an empty soul... the nothingness of the damned... the nothing ...

Londo! Save us... save... save...

Save... save us...

Save me...

And then...

... then the mental picture that he had snapped of that moment, buried in his head for all these years ... suddenly developed ... the detail fleshing in, and he saw... he saw...

... a being... a great being, with wings outstretched, looking up... no, down ... down at him, smiling, and the face, a female face, flickering, shifting, and it was Adira, smiling at him, telling him that there was nothing to fear, and she stretched her hand out to him ... he reached for it... and tears began to flow, tears of joy... and behind her, a beach seemed to shimmer...

Black tendrils, snared around his arm, pulling him back...

... he fought against them, the final fight, the only fight, the only one that mattered, and his fingers were almost brushing against hers ...

Londo ... you cannot get away ... you will always be ours... you...

I will be my own man,
he howled in his mind, and he lunged for her, for the warmth, for the beauty of that winged and glorious creature, and his fingers brushed against hers. The moment they did there was a crackle of energy, and it filled him, and exploded within him, and then the world turned to pure white...

Far, far away from it all...

The female Centauri focused, for the first time in a long time, on those who were tending her. And in a voice surprisingly strong and firm, she said, "Oho. Now he needs me. Typical..."

... and then her eyes closed in repose, and Timov, daughter of Algul, empress-in-exile of Centauri Prime, passed away...

C
HAPTER 28

Renegar and Gwynn were standing at Vir's shuttle, gesturing frantically for him to come aboard. Gwynn seemed to be assessing Senna, casting a critical eye up and down. Senna didn't seem to meet with her approval. Then again, very little did. So instead she turned her attention to the skies, obviously anticipating the possibility that one of the Drakh might detect them somehow and take their revenge. But as Vir approached, he suddenly slowed, then stopped.

"What the hell are you doing?" Renegar demanded.

Senna turned to look back at him in confusion. "Vir?"

Vir was holding a large satchel clutched in his arms, like a child. Suddenly he shoved it into Senna's arms, kissed her quickly on the cheek, turned, and headed back for the palace.

"I'm going back to help Londo."

"You can't help him," Gwynn said flatly. "You can only destroy yourself."

"Destroy myself?" There was a flat, disbelieving tone in Vir's voice. "You still don't get it, do you, Gwynn. Everything that was good about me is long gone. Everything that I used to despise about myself, I now realize was the best of me. I can't destroy myself; Vir Cotto was destroyed long ago. I can only end myself, and believe me, at this point, I don't much care about that."

He turned and bolted for the castle. Behind him, Renegar shouted, "You're being a fool!"

"Long practice," Vir shouted back.

Renegar watched him go in disbelief, and then shaking his head, he turned to the techno-mages. "Do we wait for him to come back?"

"Only if we are as great fools as he is," Gwynn shot back.

"Come." She headed for the shuttle, then stopped at the door... knowing without even needing to look that Renegar hadn't budged from the spot. Neither had Senna.

"Leave without me if you want. I'm waiting here," Renegar informed her.

"As am I," Senna echoed.

Gwynn let out a long, frustrated sigh, and then said, "No. We're not. We're taking off, right now."

Renegar turned away from her and then felt her hand on his arm. The other hand touched Senna's arm. They tried to pull away, and Gwynn muttered some words, and they each felt a tingling sensation that quickly moved up into their heads. Then just like that, Gwynn was pulling them along and they were unable to prevent her from guiding them into the shuttle.

There was deathly silence in the throne room when Vir entered. Somehow, before he even walked in, he knew what he would find. They were lying there, G'Kar and Londo, hands wrapped around each other's throats. There was, to the scene, a sense of completion, of closure, as if this was somehow always meant to be.

The great seal of the emperor lay nearby. Slowly Vir crouched and picked it up. He turned it over and over, felt the weight of it, shaking his head as he did so. He felt as if he held the entire weight of all the expectations of Centauri Prime, all the dashed hopes, all the shattered promises of the future.

His eyes were dry. He had no more tears to shed.

He looked down at Londo, the life gone from him. His final expression, incredibly, was a smile.

He looked over to G'Kar, into his eye ...

The burning red eye ... which moved. Twitched ever so infinitesimally.

"Great Maker," Vir breathed, scarcely able to believe it.

"G'Kar..."

G'Kar's eye focused momentarily on Vir, then glanced away... glanced... at something ... toward Vir's feet.

Vir reflexively looked to see what G'Kar was looking at... and took a step back, gasping in horror.

The creature appeared to be in extreme pain. Its tendrils were whipping about noiselessly, its single, hideous eye crusting over.

There was a gaping hole in its side, like a hornet having torn its stinger away to pull itself free. But it was inches away from Vir, and it was not done yet, hanging on with determination that bordered on the supernatural.

The keeper looked up at Vir, although it might not have seen him so much as sensed him.

And Vir screamed, but it wasn't a sound of terror. Instead it was blind fury, such as he had never known. And gripping the seal of the emperor, he smashed it down upon the keeper. It made a vomitous squishing sound, and he was certain that somehow he heard a screech in his head ... impossible, certainly, since the thing had no mouth, but he heard it just the same. He was positive it wasn't his imagination. Even as he raised the great seal up, he saw the mass on the floor still twitching. It wouldn't have mattered if it had been moving or not, for he was so seized in a fit of fury that he would have brought the seal crashing down again even if the creature hadn't been moving so much as a centimeter.

And then a third time, and a fourth and a fifth. He lost count. He lost track of time and lost all reason. He was astounded to realize that he was sobbing, the tears that he hadn't thought he possessed opening up. He hurled every invective he could think of at the creature and all that it represented, every profanity in his vocabulary, words that he had never uttered and never thought he would. The empty throne room rang with the clanging of the great seal of the emperor, which became more dented and twisted with every impact.

Finally, his fury expended, he backed up and assessed the damage he had done. The keeper was nothing but an indistinguishable pile of goo on the floor. He tossed aside the seal, not caring about its tradition or sacred meaning. It lay on the floor like some worthless piece of scrap metal, which – as far as Vir was concerned – was all it was.

He looked over at G'Kar, and he knew instantly that the life was gone from the great Narn. Indeed, he wondered whether he had even been alive at the last. Whether that twitch of his scarlet orb was deliberate, a mute warning ... or just some after-death spasm simulating a last act of heroism. He couldn't know, nor would he ever.

"Tell your masters," Vir snarled at the smear on the floor that had once been alive, "that their time is over. Centauri Prime for Centauri."

"Tell us yourself."

The words were a hoarse whisper that came from behind. He whirled and saw half a dozen Drakh directly behind him. One of them he recognized instantly.

"Shiv'kala," he said.

"Vir Cotto," Shiv'kala replied. "Finally ... we are face-to-face ... true enemies revealed at last."

"You won't control me," Vir shot back.

"You know so little," the Drakh snarled. "But you will learn."

They advanced on him, and Vir backed up as fast as he could. They were coming in from all sides, circling him, and the only avenue left was the window, facing out onto a drop that would kill a hundred Virs.

Vir did not hesitate. He clambered up onto the window, poised in the sill. The night air, heated from the flames in the distance, swept around him.

"I've nothing to learn from you," he said defiantly, "except the lengths that someone should be willing to go to, just to live free in mind and spirit."

He took a look down, getting ready to make his fatal plunge. And then his eyes widened as he saw ... a shuttle. No, not just any shuttle: his shuttle. It was approaching rapidly from below, coming straight toward him with a roar of engines.