To Dream in the City of Sorrows (37 page)

“The denn’sha,” Sinclair said with some surprise. “That’s not part of Ranger training. How did you learn about that?”

“The Minbari Rangers mention it from time to time. It seems to be pretty important to them.”

“But rare,” Sinclair said. “The way I understand it, when a Minbari agrees to the denn’sha, he is agreeing to take responsibility for his own death should he lose, thereby removing any responsibility for his death from his opponent.”

“A very neat word trick,” Marcus said. “The Minbari can twist words with the best of them.”

“They’ve learned just a little too much from the Vorlons in this area,” Sinclair said, suddenly very serious again. “Don’t ever forget that, about either of them.” He leaned back in his chair, still looking at Marcus, but with a distant expression, as if trying to decide what to say. “You’re an excellent Ranger, Marcus. One of our very best. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Entil’Zha,” Marcus said, pleased at the words, but not forgetting the lesson on hubris he had learned from Sech Turval and Sinclair the last time he had gotten too pleased with himself.

“I’m confident that your position with the Rangers will continue to grow in importance and responsibility. Where it will take you, I don’t know yet.” He paused again.

Marcus wondered just how many people there were on Minbar now with whom Sinclair could just sit and talk, muse out loud, work out his thoughts. He doubted there really was anyone. Though not a close friend, Marcus at least shared some experiences with Sinclair that made talking with him apparently easier than with most. And now Marcus was about to leave, too.

“The Minbari and the Vorlons talk sometimes about ‘the arrow of destiny,’ “ Sinclair said. “That a life is like an arrow shot from a bow, directed to a predestined target, and all our misery comes from failing to realize this and conform to that path.”

Marcus nodded. “We heard a little of that in some of our classes. But you always said we didn’t have to accept all their metaphysics to be a Ranger. So, if it wasn’t going to be on the test, I just didn’t pay much attention to it.”

Marcus was gratified when Sinclair laughed at this. He hadn’t heard Sinclair laugh in some time.

“You’ll hear more about it, believe me,” Sinclair said. “But beware of the false analogy, Marcus. Like the half truth, it’s one of the greatest enemies of reason. A conscious, rational being is different from an arrow in one very important way: an arrow doesn’t have free will. A Human being does. With free will, an arrow can change its flight and select among many different targets, regardless of where the bow was initially aimed. Always remember that. A man must determine his own destiny, and never give up his responsibility for choice. I don’t believe anything is absolutely predestined.”

“I’ve always believed that myself, Entil’Zha,” Marcus replied. “I guess I’m just stubborn that way. I refuse to accept that everything’s already been written and said. Seems kind of boring to me. There’d be no surprises.”

“Well, there may come a time in your life as a Ranger where you’ll be asked to do something because others have decided that it’s your destiny. If it appears to be the right thing to do, then go ahead with it, but for your reasons, not theirs. They may think they have released an arrow toward a predetermined target, but they may be surprised where the arrow actually hits.”

Marcus looked at Sinclair curiously. He seemed to be trying to work something out for himself. As excited as Marcus had been about his assignment, he now found himself wanting to stay. A Ranger pledged to live for the One and Marcus took that pledge very seriously. Perhaps his duty would be better served by staying on Minbar.

“Entil’Zha,” Marcus said, then stopped. What could he say? He couldn’t second-guess his orders. This was his superior officer. Sinclair had his reasons for sending him, and not someone else, to Zagros 7. But he had to say something, especially as Sinclair was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

“Are you going to be all right?” Marcus instantly wanted to recall the words. Was he being presumptuous?

“Thank you, Marcus,” Sinclair said. “I appreciate your asking, as I’ve appreciated your friendship. I’ll be fine. Our job as Rangers is to help create a better future. In spite of everything, that’s still a pretty good job to have.”

Sinclair got up and Marcus quickly stood as well. “Before you go,” Sinclair said. “I’d like to give you a small gift. I know you’ll make good use of it.”

He handed Marcus a Minbari fighting pike. From the look of it, it was a very old one. Marcus couldn’t resist snapping it open, and was amazed at how smoothly it sprung into place, how beautifully balanced it felt in his hands. It was without doubt the finest denn’bok he’d ever seen.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

“I was going to give it to Catherine,” Sinclair said very quietly. “I think she’d appreciate you having it.”

Marcus was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to say, but for the first time in a long time, he felt tears stinging at his eyes. He straightened to attention and saluted, hand to chest. “Entil’Zha veni!”

“Until we see each other again, Marcus.”

E
PILOGUE

MARCUS realized he’d been sitting too long. As he healed from the injuries he had sustained in his fight with Neroon, he found he couldn’t stay in any one position for too long. He decided he’d be more comfortable standing up again.

He looked around and wondered once more where Sech Turval was. He had been told his old meditation teacher spent a lot of time in the chapel now as there were certain very involved rituals that had to be performed on a regular schedule for several months following the loss of a Ranger One and the installation of a new one.

Loss. An interesting choice of word, Marcus decided. He thought about the conversation he had had with Sinclair before leaving on the mission that took him to Zagros 7 and eventually Babylon 5, when they had talked about how words could be used to hide the truth. Was he trying to hide an unpleasant truth from himself now? Sinclair had traveled to the distant past to become Valen. Every Minbari who had lived in Valen’s time was now dead. But Marcus simply couldn’t think of Sinclair in those terms. When he thought of the Entil‘Zha, it was always in the present tense. It was impossible for Marcus to think of him in any other way. A week after Sinclair had taken Babylon 4 into the rift, a package had arrived for Marcus from Minbar. It had contained Sinclair’s copy of The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. For several days thereafter, Marcus had to keep reminding himself he couldn’t send the Entil’Zha a thank you – not unless he could send it a thousand years into the past.

Maybe it was because Sinclair always talked about the future. He taught every Ranger class the Minbari proverb about Tuzanor: that to dream in the City of Sorrows, was to dream of a better future. It seemed to have special significance for Sinclair.

Perhaps that was why Marcus had been so shocked when Sinclair had told them he would be taking Babylon 4 into the past on a one-way trip. Marcus had even volunteered to go in Sinclair’s place. The Entil’Zha had always seemed so concerned with the future.

It was only much later that it occurred to Marcus that Sinclair had an equally strong connection to the past. That’s where Catherine Sakai had gone. And though Marcus had thought of her as gone forever, he realized that Sinclair must have held her in the present tense, just as Marcus still did when thinking of Sinclair.

He had been told that no rescue attempt could be made to try and find Catherine, because there was no way to determine where in the past she had gone, and Marcus had accepted that. But of course he realized now that Sinclair most certainly never did. Had he gone into the past carrying some hope of finding her? Or had Sinclair gone to do what he thought he had to do, carrying only the consolation that he could at least share a similar fate with her, marooned in the past?

Marcus didn’t know. He couldn’t stop looking at the statue. Didn’t look a thing like the man he knew. The Minbari had decided it was not wise to make it generally known that the great Valen was actually a Human. Marcus was one of the few people, even among the Rangers, who knew the truth.

“Anla’shok Cole!”

Marcus turned around, pleased to see the familiar face of Sech Turval. “It’s good to see you again.”

“I am always pleased to see one of my students who has done well,” the old Minbari said with a slight bow, which Marcus returned. “I am sorry I was not here to greet you, but I was only just informed you had arrived.”

“It’s all right. I enjoy sitting here. Or, at the moment, standing.”

Sech Turval looked at the statue of Valen. He was one of the few others who also knew the truth about Sinclair. “It would be pleasant to talk with you a while, Marcus, before you return to Babylon 5. But first I must give you something, and I will leave you alone to examine it. This was found only last week. I do not know what it means.”

He handed Marcus an envelope and left.

Marcus saw that his name was written on the envelope in a familiar script. He also recognized that the envelope was made from a kind of Minbari paper that was only used for important occasions. The paper was made to last for thousands of years, and the older the unused paper was, the more valuable it was. The more important the occasion, the more care was taken to find the oldest sheet of paper possible. Someone had apparently thought this letter very important, since the paper seemed to be very old.

He opened it carefully. Inside was an unsigned note that read:

“From both of us, our thanks and friendship.
Continue to dream that better future ... where perhaps we’ll meet again.”

Marcus sat back down, unsure what to think. It seemed to be Sinclair’s handwriting. But when had it been written? The age of the paper told him nothing. The letter itself could have been written a month ago or a thousand years ago. He looked back up at the statue of Valen, and wondered.

And he couldn’t help remember what the Minbari always said.

That Valen would return someday.