To Dream in the City of Sorrows (15 page)

Sinclair shook his head. They had kept this place in repair and waiting for a thousand years. If the Minbari had one outstanding trait, it was patience. “But I thought we had agreed that the title of Entil’Zha ...”

“The military caste said only that you may not yet assume the title,” responded Jenimer, before Sinclair could finish the question. “But they did not forbid you to live here, and you are what you are regardless of what a few closed minds among the military may believe.”

They left him to settle in, his few belongings having been previously delivered here. Once he was settled in, he would try again to get the rest of his things sent from Earth.

He unpacked, putting his own clothes away next to another full uniform set and some other selected Minbari clothes that he found already hanging in the closet.

He took his two well-read books and placed them in the small room that seemed to be his private office, containing a computer console and a selection of books in Minbari mostly concerning the Rangers and Valen. He assumed they had been recently placed there for his benefit, and were not the great Legend’s own books.

He returned to the bedroom and examined the wide Minbari bed and the tilt mechanism under it. He would have to have a talk with someone about that as well.

Finally, he put Catherine’s picture on the small table next to the bed. She could have no way of imagining where he was now, what he was doing. She still thought he was on Babylon 5, that their wedding would take place on the station in July, and that she would be marrying an Earthforce officer, the commander of a space station. How would she react to the abrupt and overwhelming change in his life? After everything they’d been through, after finally putting the pieces of their relationship together, and accepting that they were meant to be together, would it all be broken apart again, this time for good, on the hard, crystalline rock of Minbar? Would she want to have her life swept up in a clandestine fight against a mysterious and destructive alien power? Would she want to marry a man under so much pressure to assume the mantle of another world’s legends and leave his old life behind?

It was because of all this that he needed her, more than ever before. But what would she say? And how could he blame her if it proved to be just too much ...

He pushed the thought down. It did no good to think about that now. It would be months before he could even talk to her about this. Concentrate on the job at hand.

He decided to take one more walk around his new residence. He liked the fact that he would have much more privacy here than in Yedor. A kitchen wing connected to the house through a small dining area where his meals would be left, leaving him undisturbed in the rest of the house.

As he finished this second inspection, it hit him again how odd it was to take up residence in a building last occupied a thousand years ago by Valen himself, the greatest personage in Minbari history, venerated almost to the point of deification. It was as if he’d been told, oh, yeah, the last person to live here was King Arthur, but now it’s yours.

He resolved to intensify his already extensive reading about the mythic leader. It was the least he could do if he was going to put his feet up on the Legend’s furniture and assume his job.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said to Valen aloud.

Although he was no longer in Yedor, when a knock sounded on the door, he naturally assumed it was Rathenn, come to take him someplace else. He answered the door and found his assumption was correct.

“The Chosen One requests your presence.”

As they walked across the compound, Rathenn gave Sinclair what the Minbari clearly considered disastrous news. “I fear I must inform you that Sech Durhan steadfastly refuses to sanction the Human ownership of the denn‘bok.”

Sinclair knew what a denn’bok was: a Minbari fighting pike. It was a retractable metal-alloy staff, about five feet at full extension. He also recalled that this traditional Minbari weapon was something of a signature symbol for the Rangers.

“Who is Durhan?” he asked.

“He is the F’hursna Sech, the master teacher of the fighting pike. He oversees the forging of the few new pikes made each year, and has total authority over the transfer of ownership of all other pikes, usually handed down from parent to child. No one may own a true fighting pike without his sanction,” Rathenn emphasized. “He has also been teacher to the Rangers in the use of the pike, but he is now threatening to cease this work because of Human recruitment.”

“It’s unfortunate,” Sinclair said. “But I don’t see it as one of our more important problems right now.”

“Rangers must be trained in the pike as they have always been.”

“I know it’s tradition, and I agree that training in the use of a pike or staff is worthwhile. So does Earthforce. I was taught how to fight with the bo – a wooden staff a little bit longer than the Minbari pike. The practice is excellent for improving physical conditioning and agility, and building self-confidence. We could do that here just as well with wooden staffs as with your traditional pike.”

Rathenn was adamant. “It is crucial to the honor of the Rangers that they be sanctioned to own a true fighting pike. This is a matter of utmost importance.”

Sinclair was getting a little exasperated. “I told you I’m not going to let tradition get in the way of doing our job here. In the real world of PPGs and weapons of mass destruction, let alone that of the destructive power possessed by the Shadows, owning or not owning a pike will hardly be a deciding factor in whether or not a Ranger can do his job.”

“Forgive me for upsetting the Anla’shok Na,” said Rathenn contritely. “But he must be informed immediately of all problems as per his order. Please be assured that the Chosen One is working to resolve this matter.” Sinclair saw that Rathenn was leading him to one of the temples. “I’m sure that you both are,” he said, wondering what was in store for him next. In the future, he would insist on being informed ahead of time about his daily schedule.

“Does the Ambassador maintain his training with the–“ Rathenn hesitated slightly to recall the word, “–the bo?”

“Not consistently. Off and on over the years. Or with somewhat similar weapons. The bokken, the jo. When I can.”

This seemed to please Rathenn, who merely nodded as they entered the temple. It was the largest of the three temples, and was situated at the center of the compound. Sinclair was immediately struck by its beauty. Built from the native crystalline stone, it rose to a crystalline dome with open arches and crystalline windows. Below, its deliberately asymmetrical archways led to an interior adorned by hard stone seats that faced the temple’s only other feature, an impressive statue of Valen. This was clearly a later addition to the temple, not only from the clearly different stone used in the statue, but also because Sinclair knew that during his lifetime, Valen had never allowed his likeness to be created or displayed in any form. Sinclair assumed he wanted to avoid the very cult of personality that arose anyway after he “traveled beyond.” Even this statue was not a realistic portrayal, but a highly stylized one, designed to suggest but not define his appearance.

Beneath the statue stood Jenimer and Ulkesh.

“Chosen One,” Sinclair said, then acknowledged the Vorlon with a nod. The sound of wind chimes filled the silence for a moment.

Jenimer spoke: “When an initiate becomes a Ranger, there is a welcoming ceremony that is performed by the Rangers. But when a new Anla’shok Na is installed, that ceremony is performed privately at the statue of the original Ranger One and Entil’Zha. This must be done before he can greet his assembled Rangers.

“From the beginning, the badge of the Rangers has been this: a perfect Isil’Zha jewel set in gold and silver fashioned to resemble the hands of a Ranger holding it. It was passed through a white-hot flame, then cooled first in two bowls of sacred water and then in the blood of the Ranger.

“But a new age has come upon us, and the badge of the Ranger must now reflect that. Jeffrey Sinclair, receive the new badge of the Rangers. It remains a perfect Isil’Zha jewel, but now the setting of gold and silver is fashioned to resemble a Minbari on one side, a Human on the other. It has been passed through a white-hot flame, then cooled first in a bowl of sacred water, then in a bowl of Minbari blood, and lastly in a bowl of your own Human blood. In Valen’s name, I proclaim you Anla’shok Na. Ranger One.”

And Jenimer pinned the newly designed badge to Sinclair’s uniform.

That’s why they took so much blood during the examination,
Sinclair thought.

He was never big on ceremony, being much more interested in just getting the job done, but he knew the Minbari took their ceremonies very seriously. He bowed slightly.

“I am honored,” he said. “But let us move forward with the work.”

It was apparently the right thing to say. Jenimer and Rathenn both practically beamed. Ulkesh said nothing.

“The full complement of Rangers have been assembled for your inspection, Ranger One,” Rathenn announced, and led him out of the temple, leaving the Minbari leader and the Vorlon behind.

At the first sight of the few Minbari standing rigidly in formation on one of the training fields, Sinclair paused to look for the others he assumed must be somewhere out of his view. Only thirty-four Rangers plus Turval were there to greet him. Thirty-four Minbari, some young and eager-looking, some quite a bit older. Thirty-four out of the seventy-eight that had been active Rangers until the day his appointment was confirmed.

“The military clan leaders put out an immediate order for their members to resign,” Turval explained. “I fear some followed that order quickly and willingly. Others were agonized, but found it too difficult to turn their backs on their families and clan loyalties by repudiating the order.”

Well, thirty-four was better than nothing, Sinclair thought. But clearly the overriding first priority was an immediate and aggressive search for new recruits.

“At ease,” he told the assembled Rangers. It didn’t seem to be an order they were familiar with, at least not in English, and he certainly didn’t know any Minbari word for it. He’d been assured these Rangers knew English very well, but they continued to stand at ironclad attention, staring at a distant point somewhere over his head. It was like trying to speak to a collection of statues.

“At ease means you may relax a little and should look at me when I speak to you.”

Again, none of them moved, but a few eyes darted left or right, as if unsure what to do exactly and thus were looking to see if their comrades were moving or doing anything differently.

“That’s an order,” said Sinclair.

The assembled Minbari relaxed just a little, and hesitantly brought their gazes down from the sky to take a look at him.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “I am Jeffrey Sinclair, and it is my honor to have been asked to serve as your Anla’shok Na, or in my language, Ranger One. I thank you for the loyalty and trust you have demonstrated by choosing to stay here and work with me. I will do my best to live up to that trust.”

Sinclair paused. There was really nothing else to say. He had Turval dismiss the assemblage.

The sun was already setting when Rathenn walked back with him to his quarters, where his dinner and more files on prospective Rangers awaited him. Much later that night he finally went to bed, hoping that his dreams would be, as Jenimer said, of a better future, not the bitter past.

But the next morning when he awoke, though he knew he had dreamed, he could not remember any of them.

C
HAPTER 12

“I’M pleased with the initial response,” Sinclair said, receiving nods of assent from both Jenimer and Rathenn. Ulkesh, as usual, stood silent and unmoving behind and to the left of Jenimer, who was in an ornate high-backed chair. Sinclair sat facing them in an only slightly less opulent chair. Rathenn chose to stand. Sinclair wondered if he could insist on installing a simple conference table for future meetings.

This was the first meeting with the Minbari leader and the Vorlon since Sinclair had arrived at the Ranger compound two weeks before. Jenimer had returned to Yedor within two days to attend to other business, leaving Rathenn to work with Sinclair on establishing the training schedule and a system for getting the word out to prospective Ranger candidates and bringing them to Tuzanor for a final screening. Sinclair had officially moved his embassy office to the City of Sorrows, where the interviews took place. Only after they were accepted, were the candidates brought to the Ranger base. During this time, Sinclair had caught a few glimpses of Ulkesh, but that was all.

As things began coming together, Sinclair was troubled by what he considered unnecessary delays and hindrances, and had insisted on a meeting with both Jenimer and Ulkesh.

“The quality of those expressing an interest in joining the Rangers, both Minbari and Human, has been quite remarkable,” Sinclair continued, “The first group of twenty Minbari and thirty-five Humans are ready to begin formal training, and another group of at least twenty-five more Humans and maybe ten or twelve more Minbari will be ready soon after that. That’s all to the good. But if we’re going to fulfill our new mandate, we need to start sending Rangers on active patrol to gather information firsthand and return to report directly to us. We need to begin scouting locations for additional bases of operation and training centers. And we need to start gathering additional weapons and munitions.

“To do all this, we will need fully trained Rangers. At the moment we have only thirty-four, and most of those are needed here to start training new Rangers and keep this base operating. Since a new Ranger can’t be commissioned until receiving three months of training, we can’t afford to delay starting that training another day. But the others refuse to start training the new recruits until Durhan consents. Everything else is in place. Something must be done about this problem with Durhan immediately.”

Jenimer nodded. “I have persuaded Sech Durhan to meet with us here today.”