The Long Trial, Part Three
Chapter Eighteen: Epiphanies on the Night Watch
by R. Bernstein

Things were getting worse. The skirmishes between the Centauri and the Narn were turning into a slaughter, and Earth Gov was waffling about putting any pressure on the Centauri to abandon their conquest. And now Jensen expected her to go to this meeting, a Nightwatch meeting. "It's a sub-division under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Peace. Since we'll be collaborating with them quite a bit, you need to be there. And since there has been a call for volunteers, it would be a good idea for you to join. This will make our collaboration and communication run seamlessly."

So much for 'volunteer', Havah thought, as she grabbed her pad and materials and headed out.

The meeting was crowded, and she wrapped her sweater tightly around her shoulders and took a seat. The speaker began amidst the chatter. "If you'll all please sit so we can begin. I know you're all curious about the Nightwatch, and so this meeting has been organized to clear up any questions, and extend the opportunity to get involved. My name is John Ashby, I'm the Acting Director. This organization as you know, is a sub-division of the Ministry of Peace. The Ministry of Peace, as you know, was created to promote legislation and activism for peaceful solutions to internal conflicts. These conflicts have been barriers to efficiency and integration of services within Earth Gov and even within society in general. That being said, the Nightwatch is an operationalization of the mission of the Ministry. What that means is that the Nightwatch as a division, has been granted authority to mediate certain situations in which these barriers occur. For example, take a group of protesters, such as those we've seen in the capital lately. Many are simply expressing anger at a need that they have, which hasn't been met. Some suffer from mental illness, homelessness, many risk being assaulted as a result. Our organization has the resources to assist these individuals by investigating their situations so that their dissatisfaction can be resolved. It doesn't even have to be someone in such a dramatic circumstance, it can even be someone you work with, someone whom you know is unhappy with the current establishment. We can help. Communication is key. There is no way for us to help if we don't know what is wrong. But the manner of communication is important. People who contribute to slanderous web-sites, and questionable sources of media communicate their dissatisfaction in a destructive way, and we no longer have the luxury of catering to this kind of attitude, especially when there are better ways. So, the Nightwatch is setting up a system of surveillance in order to detect destructive communication at the source and locate people who need assistance with the hope of resolving some of these problems before they start."

Someone in back raised his hand. "What kind of surveillance?"

"Well, whatever is necessary, work history, which we already have access to, military records, if applicable, police records, if applicable, credit reports, which we already have access to, so that we can identify financial distress if that is a factor, political affiliation, medical or mental health records if that appears to be an issue."

Havah's stomach convulsed and the ache swiftly crept up to her chest. They're going to find out! They're going to find out about my father! Trying to mask the bile that percolated into the back of her throat, she raised her hand. "What about privacy laws?!"

"Those laws don't apply here, since we're a federal agency acting under the new statute. We have the authority to request identifiable information on individuals, should it be deemed necessary, as long as that data is not given to commercial or other private agencies, or agencies that do not have clearance or demonstrate a need for the data." He waved his hand at her. "Now, this sounds much more invasive and melodramatic than it really is. And of course, volunteers of Nightwatch won't fall under surveillance. There is no need. Obviously, if you are here, then you know how to communicate effectively and don't require assistance, unless you should ask. We're not asking anyone to bug houses and hang outside people's domiciles in an abandoned shuttle, just keep your eyes and ears open, that's all. We know all of you are busy with your job duties, and this is not time intensive, just to illustrate how little drama this really entails. But, should you decide to become part of our collaborative project, we will draft a letter to your supervisors or commanding officers, and pay for any time you do happen to be taken away from your current duties. You will receive a hundred-fifty credit stipend per month."

So a hundred- fifty clams a month to spy on people. Except they don't know that's what I'm doing now, and they are the target. Watching the Watchers. The thought of volunteering for Nightwatch turned her blood cold, but what better way to get into the inner cabal, and what better way to stay off their radar. The meeting wore on, elaborating the fine points of their new authority and limitations, and then the solicitation for volunteers, with a station set up in the back for contact information and flyers. When Havah came to the front of the line, a man with white-blonde hair winked at her as he took her information and handed her a black armband emblazoned with the Nightwatch emblem. She resisted the urge to tie it around his throat. She slowly put it on and returned to the office. Jensen eyed it, nodded curtly and then left for another meeting. She sat feeling the constriction around her arm, as though it was cutting off all the blood to her fingers, and then finished her work for the day and went home. As she entered, the mirror in the hall caught her reflection. With her dark pressed shirt, pants and armband, a ghost from the old Nationalist Party stared back at her. She ripped off the band, tossed it on the floor, threw cloths over the mirrors in the apartment and turned out the lights.

* * * * * * * *

Since the Nightwatch was a global organization, meetings were organized by geographic location and collaborative agency. Havah attended meetings with most of the people from the main campus. They started off innocently, more like gossip and chat sessions than formal meetings. After a few more however, the calls for 'reports' became pointed. And then a floating representative attended, a slick fellow named Mr. Welles. His dulcet tone instantly needled under Havah's skin. "All we are looking for are indications of events or people who are acting unusual, even if you think that it is trivial. It is better to have the information and bring the issue into the open, here, so that it can be discussed."

"I had green hair and an eyebrow ring in high school. Define unusual." Havah blurted.

That was a mistake, now she had attracted his attention and he slithered over to her chair. And he was one of those people, who had no sense of personal boundary space, and put his hands on the person to whom he was speaking for emphasis or persuasion, and he rested his hands lightly on her shoulders as he spoke, coming around behind her, looking down at her upturned face, like a parent patronizing a child. "Yes, and I'm sure it was unusual at the time, but you do not have green hair now. You have learned that it was disruptive, and you have grown out of the adolescent need to rebel against authority. It is no longer necessary. Correct?"

Havah shrugged his hands off and nodded grudgingly.

"Now you are able to behave in a manner more constructive for your society. The kind of behavior we are looking for is not constructive for anyone, including the individuals who maintain it. If that behavior is identified, we will better serve those people by assisting them in adopting a more positive outlook and help them better organize their lives, relationships, and work spaces."

Behavior, proper behavior. Havah thought inadvertently of her father and his concern. "So, what kind of data exactly are you looking for? You still haven't defined 'unusual'. You want us to report, but we need a format. What constitutes 'bad behavior'? Where are the boundaries of what we are supposed to report?"

"Whether they are attitudes, beliefs, knowledge or behavior, 'negative' can be interpreted as dissension or resentment concerning authority, whether it is a laxness in the following of laws, or the expression of misleading ideas about the current establishment. Misrepresentation can be dangerous, and is in fact against civil law, as you know, and can be litigated under libel." His silken voice had a hard edge.

"Ahh. SoŠand I'm just trying to clarify your expectations, misleading ideas can mean speaking out against the President or a given current policy?"

"It canŠyes, because it can lead to barriers in efficiency. Understand however, that this is not a police state by any means. We are not penalizing individuals who are investigated, merely identifying needs in order to address them, heading off strife before it can come to fruition. Do you understand?"

Havah forced a smile. "Yes, thank you." She had played a dangerous game questioning in that manner.

But after a moment of scrutiny, Mr. Welles beamed at her and clapped his hand on her shoulder again. That was really getting aggravating. "Good, good. It is perfectly fine to ask questions, and good that you are taking care with the quality of information, excellent! And now that your confusion has been clarified, I'm sure we can look forward to thorough observations from you, MissŠ"

"Lassee." She almost cringed, the affected smile trying to slide off her face.

But his praise had sparked a spate of reports from other participants. Oddly enough, they genuinely seemed to believe that they were assisting the people at the heart of the incidents or rumors they proffered, and even offered good faith suggestions on how to help them. Havah just sat and watched. Who gets this data, and what is really done with it? She wondered, but decided not to call more attention to herself in an open meeting for now.

* * * * * * * *

A couple months later, she was on line at the cafeteria, when a Nightwatch member spoke next to her. "Gorgeous day today. You'd almost believe that spring was coming. Perfect day to feed gulls." It was Lieutenant Commander Byron. He took his lunch in a box and exited the cafeteria. She sat down with her tray, fighting the urge to go after him. What if it was a trap? He was Nightwatch now, after all. He had come through once before though. She put her lunch in a box and left. Gulls, he went to feed the gulls.

She found him near the lake, sitting on the cement stairs leading to the water. She said nothing, but sat next to him and unpacked her food. He kept tossing bread to the birds. He reached into his jacket and placed a data crystal in her box. "It needs to be off-world."

"And what makes you think I'd do that? What makes you think I could if I wanted to?"

"Because you wear this for the same reason as me." He tugged the band. She didn't answer, just pocketed the crystal. "Thanks."

* * * * * * * *

Havah slipped the crystal into the port, hand quivering. There it was. Since leaving Babylon 5 and talking at length with Sinclair, she had learned that Garibaldi had found a triangulation device, just before the explosion of Earth Force One. Before an investigation could take place, the device, and the man who shot Garibaldi had all been transferred to the custody of a federal agent by order of the new 'President'. None of the cargo, electronic or human ever reached Earth. But here was a ghost, the minutest paper trail, like dissolving footprints in the sand. The first document was the draft of a plan, dated to five years ago, when Clark had still been a senator from Florida. It outlined in frightening detail the formation of an agency called the Ministry of Peace, with subdivisions including one serving the same functions as the Nightwatch. A foreign policy, which was a polar opposite to the one Clark had espoused under Santiago, was elaborated right down to a hypothesized domination of Human business and military on the interstellar exchange. And one of the names listed in the meeting minutes at which this plan was drafted was a Mr. Morden. The next set of documents was more current, dated to November 13, 2258, a month and a half before the murder of President Santiago. It was an accounting transaction signed by Clark that established a special fund, for access by an agency called Future Corp. She began recognizing names on the roster of Board members. Many were members of other extremely powerful corporations, Anthony Bartlett, Walter Higgins, William EdgarsŠand she was no longer surprisedŠ Morden. She scrolled through documents, and the next set of data was a batch of personal information: names, addresses, credit chit numbers, names and addresses of relatives of the individuals cataloged, extremely detailed information, such as addresses of elementary schools and family schedules. Havah realized with a chill that this was data on the President's secret service detail, the officers' personnel files, and far beyond that, the minutia of their most private lives, something no one should have had access to. Santiago's security had been compromised on the most basic level. Finally, there was a purchase order for a set of triangulation devices. The buyer was Future Corp. Hands scrambling to secure the data before it disappeared in a burst of flame, Havah made three more copies of the data crystal. This was going to get off-world. If she had her way, it was going to blast from very com-port across the galaxy, after she made sure that Sinclair got the data first.

* * * * * * * *

After joining the Nightwatch, it was not difficult for Havah to come up with justification for sending her to the international Emergency Management and Biodefense Conference to be held on Babylon 5 in a couple of weeks. It would even have been possible for her to justify a trip to Minbar, to 'keep an eye' on her old supervisor, Sinclair, but given Jensen's recent eleventh hour companions, Havah couldn't risk even mentioning Minbar. She would just have to take a few days before the conference and get away for a while.

* * * * * * * *

She dashed up the trail to the compound, nearly knocking down a trainee in her path. She righted the stammering young Minbari woman, and apologized to the cadet who had recognized her and was trying, haltingly, to salute Havah. Then she pelted away again into Sinclair's office, put the crystal on the table, and leaned forward. "This is it, sir! We can nail him!"

He put it into the port and viewed in silence. The silence lengthened after he finished scrolling. He sighed from the deepest part of his soul, and stared at a blank screen for another moment before saying some of the hardest words in his life. "No. We can't, not yet."

Havah stuck her finger in her ear and wiggled it a moment to clear out the wax that must have been blocking her hearing. "What? Sir?"

"We can't use this yet. I knew the Shadows were involved butŠThink. If we expose Clark now, like this, the Shadows will know they have been discovered, at least to a greater degree than we can afford right now. It will have to wait."

It was the same story that had kept the information from G'Kar, except now it was her world, their world that was being sold. "ButŠbutŠwaitŠhow long?"

"I don't know, until we have more of a force against them. Right now, we don't stand a chance‹"

She knew she was being insubordinate by interrupting him, her Minbari Anla Shok instructors would have been appalled, but she couldn't hold in her outburst. "But, Clark killed the PresidentŠSir! He's a murderer, there's a conspiracy, heŠthey‹"

"I know, Havah, but that's the point. The conspirators are in too deep and you have to look at the big picture! I know‹"

"NO! NO, Sir?! It's Earth, we can't justŠwe can't just sell them down the river, we can't just let this go!" Her voice cracked into a breathy whisper.

"We're not selling anyone down the river, but we have to lay low on this! We can't just go charging in! There is no other choice, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

Havah looked down like a Minbari soldier addressing a superior officer, back rigid. "Yes, Entilzah Sinclair! I understand."

"Dammit, Havah, look at me! Don't pull that Minbari crap on me now, we've known each other too long and too well to do this now!"

She looked at him with betrayed eyes.

He flicked at a pile of papers on his desk disconsolately, and paced like a caged lion. "Do you think I'm any happier about this than you? Do you think I like the idea of that Šmegalomaniac in office, or those Shadows whispering in his ear? You know better than that! But we won't help Earth at all if we act on this now! We will in fact destroy our chances of ever being rid of Clark, those in league with him, or the Shadows. You know it, you're too smart not to know it!" He came to stand directly in front of her and looked down into her face. "We WILL be ready, and we will beat them and take our world back. We will. I give you my word that the time will come and we will fight this, no matter what it takes."

She met his earnest gaze and nodded numbly. "Yes, sir."

He put his hands on her arms, and looked at her a moment, and then let them drop. "This isn't for nothing. The more data we collect, the more prepared we will be to deal with them. This information you've given me is just the kind of thing we need to know."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else?"

He exhaled heavily. "No, not for now. I need you to return and keep gathering this information if you can. How did you get it?"

"Apparently, I have a friend in high places. His name is William Byron. He's a Lieutenant Commander. He says that he saw me on Proxima Three. Same guy that gave me the crystal with Clark's little hospital trip."

He nodded. "I remember him. He was really bucking for a posting to the Babylon Project. He was supposed to be assigned, but then the station blew up, and he was posted to Earth Central. By the time it was rebuilt, they must have been looking at other people."

"He doesn't seem to like Clark much, or what's happening on Earth, although I don't know how much he knows. He said he joined the Nightwatch for the same reason I did. By the way, I joined the Nightwatch. It's the Ministry of Peace's new watchdog organization. I figured it was the best way to stay out from under their scrutiny, and get access to more closely guarded information."

"I agree. I don't need to tell you to watch your heels in the viper's den."

"No sir."

* * * * * * * *

The back path down the mountain was deserted, and Havah walked for solitude. She didn't get it. A silhouette slid onto the path in front of her, and there was Felshenn, like a bony Doberman, asserting his territory.

"Don't you have a home?" She said acerbically.

He completely ignored her dig. "I did not expect you to keep your word and return for training."

"I didn't. I came to give Entilzah Sinclair some more information. And now I'm going back to Earth."

"You told Satai Neroon that you would undergo training when you returned to Minbar!"

Here we go again. "No, I didn't. I said that I would come back for training when I had time. I don't right now."

"But you have time to take a stroll across the mountain."

"I wanted to think. Look, we have bigger problems right now than my manners!"

"You mean Earth has bigger problems. What a surprise! Who did you Humans tempt into annihilating you now?"

She clenched her fists, nearly bit a hole in her cheek and stalked past him. But he reached out and grabbed her arm. "You don't walk away‹"

That was all she needed. She twisted her wrist around, hooking his arm and locking out his elbow, wanting desperately to hear it snap. But he was lithe and rolled out of it. Before he could get his bearings, she snap-kicked at his groin. He caught her foot and twisted her leg. She dropped to relieve the pressure and roll out of it, catching him across the neck with her other shin in a leg scissors that took him to the ground more gracefully than she would have liked. As fast as she was, he was slightly faster for the moment, and before she could press her advantage, he tossed her, like a bag of dry leaves, as she rolled over him, aiming a knife-hand at his throat. She didn't land as easily as he threw her. Her back whumphed into a tree trunk, expelling her breath in a jolt. Shaking it off, she lunged again, faking with a reverse punch to the left side of his face, then twisting on the inside and catching him with a right elbow, except that she also caught bone, and slowed to nurse the split skin. In an instant, he recovered and came back with his own elbow-backfist, which she ducked, and there followed a short flurry of strikes and blocks, until he tried to sweep her. Rather than trying to reverse the sweep, she grabbed the sides of his overcoat and pulled him down with her, planting her feet into his stomach, trying to launch him as far into orbit as she could. But he grabbed hold of her, and, careless of the incline, they went tumbling over rocks, twigs, and brambles down the slope. They thudded to rest against another giant trunk. Before she could scramble up, he pinned her in a snare of long sinewy arms and legs, like thick creeper vines. She struggled, trying to claw at his eyes, trying to wrap her leg up around his chest to bend him back over his own knees, but he was too strong. He lay atop her and suddenly amidst the waste of energy she was expending, she felt a tremor and heard a rumble. That bastard was laughing! That made her angrier and she growled and strained against him, but couldn't budge him. All she could do was feel his body heave in his own personal moment of hilarity. He put his mouth near her ear, and in the most infuriatingly scathing voice he whispered, "I would have thought you could fight better than that, Changling. They did train you to be an alyt of the Anla Shok after all! But of course, their training can only live up to the quality of the material, and you are only Human!" And then he let her go, and shoved away before she could retaliate.

"You can shove your denn bok right up your rump! Oh, that's right, there's one wedged in there already, all the way up to your pinched pointy rat nose!"

His smile faltered. He didn't know what a 'rat' was, but it sounded foul.

She lunged again and away they went: attack, deflect, counter-attack, recover. It could have gone on ten minutes or ten hours. She winded him with a devastating side-thrust to the solar plexus, which he realized would have dropped many of the other soldiers he knew. How had he left that open, he wondered as he gagged. As she came in and feinted another kick to his groin and followed with an uppercut to his jaw, he side-stepped drunkenly, grabbed her arm and shoulder and tried to plant her face-first into a rock-face. She whirled, folding the arm and caught him in the jaw with an elbow to the neck, levering him into the rock instead. They both slid down the stone face into the burm and sat in the dirt, panting and staring at each other. After a few minutes, his smirk turned into a chuckle. Havah just glared.

He knew that look. She had the defeated look of a child who suddenly learns that the world isn't the way she was taught it should be. The grief of betrayal was outlined in the set of her mouth.

What do you have when your society becomes a different entity than the one you swore to protect? I know that well. The warrior caste does. "Your governmentŠthings are very bad?" He eyed her coolly, as he stripped pieces of grass, but his voice was solicitous.

Havah looked down, picking at a twig, and then nodded slightly. "Yeah." Their eyes met.

"I am sorry." He said softly, rose and left her to her thoughts.

* * * * * * * *

Havah met the troops of new cadets who were being trained at the central facility, and met with the recent graduates, who were yet to be assigned. Despite Sinclair's efforts, they all, even the Humans, now affected the Minbari protocol of looking down when addressed by or speaking to Sinclair and her, as senior officers. But it was an indication that the Anla Shok had become a significant establishment once again. Reports were in from the other training facilities. There was a burgeoning matter of concern at Zagros Seven. The camp was hosted by a Drazi colony, but they had been harried recently by the presence of Centauri war ships encroaching and claiming to provide a 'stabilizing presence' for the area. The colony was agricultural. What was there to stabilize?

Havah asked. "Do you want me to pay a visit there on my way back?"

"No, this report is pretty thorough. I just want everyone out of there. We'll move the site. This is no longer a good position for the camp. The instructors can see to the relocation. For now they can return to Minbar, until a new camp can be set up. That'll take some time. Since you're stopping at Babylon 5, you can start scouting out new locations with ambassadors in different areas."

"Will do."

"Before you leave, remember, I told you that Delenn commissioned work on a new project. The prototype is almost complete. You should see it and become familiar with it. This will cheer us both up."

Havah smiled and followed him to a waiting shuttle-craft. It took them to a dry-dock in orbit. At the dock, a ship was moored like no other ship Havah had ever seen. It had the tapered curves of a Minbari ship, and a skin that was reminiscent of Vorlon technology. A hybrid. The design was completely new, more air than ship. The hatch whispered open and they entered a space that was impossibly larger than it had looked from the outside. The bridge was as roomy and light as the hallway had been, and the Religious caste crew-members manning the controls snapped to attention as they entered. Havah stared at the controls. They were so sensitive that they responded to the electromagnetic force of the hand held above the diodes. She would have to review the specs because this ship was fueled and assembled with technology she had never seen before.

Sinclair, who had been peering in happy wonder around him, watched the reaction on her face. Except it was not Havah he saw. A young Minbari woman stood in reverie, and then turned to him. She looked down as was customary, but he knew her face. She looked just like Havah, but different, there was something not-Havah in her face, aside from the structural changes of a full-blooded Minbari. And he knew this woman, aside from her resemblance to Havah. Recognition eluded him. He passed his hand over his tired eyes and through his hair, and Havah was back. After this briefing, it was time to get some sleep.

* * * * * * * *

This technology was amazing! It was built to be both a long-range war-ship, and a fighter-ship with more accuracy and maneuverability than the mammoth cruisers. With a fleet of these, they would have a spitting chance. Havah turned to Sinclair to ask if she could take her for a spin, and halted. An older Minbari male faced her whom Havah now recognized as the Valen from her dreams. He was not a specter. She could have reached out and touched him. He looked like Sinclair. Before she could ask what he was doing here, the ship morphed and closed in around her. She could feel it encapsulate her skin, singing to her. She could feel Valen and the others as the ship moved through space towards a moon that she now knew as Fali'shar, Shelter Peace Planet. She couldn't see the moon but she knew it was there. They docked and as the ship melted away again, leaving her and nine others including Valen, they faced a being that looked to Havah like an angel. 'What is an angel?', something in her thought.

And then the light emitted by the being blurred, and Havah was staring at the glow of the diodes under the careful hands of a crewman. He was looking at her strangely from under his eyelashes, not wanting to be disrespectful by looking at her directly. Sinclair was speaking.

"Havah? What do you think?"

About the ship, or about what just happened? "It'sŠit's awesome! Can we take her out for a test drive?"

"Unfortunately, not yet. The engineers are keeping her until they finish perfecting a couple of the specs. I already tried wheedling them into one run, but they won't budge. So we'll just have to be patient until they are done. It's good to know that they are being perfectionists about it, though. We'll need these ships to be as close to flawless as possible. I have a feeling the design will be tested far beyond its limits. You'll be given training on them the next time you're back, including shooting solutions with a crew, and with a fleet, provided the rest of the ships are completed."

"Yes, sir!"

Havah left in good spirits, but troubled by the daydream. It was intruding into her waking life now, almost as though the two worlds were beginning to blend and run over each other, and she was living as much in the dream reality as she was in the here and now. Maybe it was a good thing for this strangeness to creep into her conscious mind. Then she could see where it led, and get rid of it.

* * * * * * * *

Babylon 5 was crawling with Nightwatch personnel. Every time she turned around, she felt the ugly murmur of the legal rumor mill. And worse, while on the trip to Minbar, Earth had taken a stance concerning the Centauri-Narn conflict, and was supporting the Centauri! The wheel of galactic history was back where it had begun for the thousandth time, and no one had figured out that they were going in circles. As she arranged to meet with the ambassadors from the League of Non-Aligned worlds, she encountered both G'Kar and Mollari. G'Kar was a changed man. The crags in his face were deeper, riddled with sadness and inevitability, and he was uncharacteristically quiet. It was the same look worn by most of the Narns on the station. Some were refugees. These were the quietest, with hollow hunted eyes. Others had residence on the station, and hadn't borne the full brunt of the atrocities being enacted against their home-world, so they had the luxury of belligerence and vocal indignation. It must have been contagious, because Havah's chest knotted with the same anger every time she saw a displaced or injured Narn wander by, as furious with her own world for supporting this as she was with the Centauri for causing it. Humans recognized the look of the hunted. We've been there, only twelve years ago! Are our memories that short?! I remember when we were asking for help from everyone, and no one would help usŠexcept the Narns! I was a senior in high school. It was like yesterday! She wanted to spit at Mollari when passing him in the hall, until she saw his eyes. His face maintained a taut hauteur at all times, like a mask, but his eyes were as haunted as G'Kar's, and by something as dark and terrible as the shadow of Centauri slavery and ethnic cleansing. He didn't want this. Earth was not the only torn nation, they all were.

* * * * * * * *

"I am sorry, but with things as they are, the Centauri are expanding, and we just cannot risk attracting any attention. I'm afraid we cannot offer this territory for use to your organization at this time, for any price. Perhaps in a few months." Such was the Brakiri answer, and the Vreen, and all of the other non-aligned worlds. No dice on finding an alternate site for a camp. People were too scared.

* * * * * * * *

She hunkered in the rear of the Nightwatch meeting, hoping Mr. Welles, who had floated like rubbish out to this part of the galaxy, wouldn't see her and pin her for a report. Several of Garibaldi's people were there, including Zack Allen. That surprised Havah at first, until Welles started pressing him for information about an unfortunately opinionated shopkeeper. Zack stammered and hemmed, like a man realizing too late that he had sat on a black widow egg sac, and it had hatched, as Welles' hands snaked over his shoulders.

"All we are asking is for you to confirm that he made these statements, nothing moreŠ"

Havah watched the bizarre hallucination as the black widow babies were picking through Zack's hair, skittering over his arms and legs.

"He's just a shopkeeper, he doesn't mean anything. He's a good guy, I mean‹"

"We are not asking you do anything or to badmouth him, just a confirmation. Did you or did you not hear him making these statements?"

"Yeah, I guess." They stuck to his face and uniform like black confetti. He looked sick, as Welles kept talking. She imagined the parents of the arachnids crowding in on either side of Morden, simpering mortuary arias with tar-candy breath.

"There you see. That's not so badŠ" Havah didn't hear the rest, and Zack didn't smile. He responded as much as he had to, but he knew something was wrong now. Havah's daydream dissolved as the meeting ended, and if Welles had seen her, he hadn't singled her out.

* * * * * * * *

The garden was packed. Dozens of people had gathered to hear the speech about to be given by Sheridan. It was reputed to be an apology to the Centauri for harboring a crippled Narn cruiser. However, knowing Sheridan as people on the station were coming to, about half of them had gathered to hear him actually apologize, and the other half had gathered to see what he was really likely to do, which was to tell the Centauri, masked in polite beg-your-pardons, to kiss his aft-deck. Which was also what most of the people there, Centauri excluded, really wanted to hear. Most of the Humans, the Minbari, and various peoples from the non-aligned worlds had been appalled at the use of mass drivers against Narn, whether their governments had the balls to back them up or not. So when the Centauri ambassador arrived, he was given a wide berth. People murmured in tight groups and cast catty glances at the morose man. Isolated, he pretended not to notice. Havah almost felt sorry for him.

"Do you believe this horse-honkey?!" John Kellerman, one of her old co-workers sidled up. "Hiya Havah! Long time no see! How ya been?"

"Hey! Yeah, pretty good. How've you been?"

"Not bad, not bad, never mind all the political garbage goin' on." Then he noticed the armband. "Oh, no. Tell me you didn't."

"It's not what you think."

"Maybe it's not what you think. That's not like you at all, you were always such a hippie. Besides, I thought you were on Minbar."

"I was. Then I went to work at Earth Gov Central office, for the EA Emergency Management Agency. My supervisor there thought I should join the Nightwatch to facilitate interagency cooperation."

"Well, so what happened to your position on Minbar? What about Sinclair?"

Havah had prepared for moments like this, inevitable questions from friends. But no matter how much preparation she had spent, she still felt flat-footed trying to answer. "I still have contact with him." She practiced the 'Grey Council silence' as she had come to think of it, the quiet closing of conversation beyond any further pursuit.

"OhŠwell, don't turn right-wing wacko on us now. What do you think about all this?" He asked cautiously, eyeing the band.

"John, I'm the same person I was when I left. I think it's a load of bull! The use of mass drivers violated all Weapons of Mass Destruction treaties everywhere, and Earth Gov is nuts to tiptoe around this. Sheridan did what he had to do. That ship had nowhere else to go, they were refugees. Earth Gov is up in arms because his actions didn't meet the current political agenda. That's what this is about. It's gotten bad back home."

"Yeah, I heard. The backwash is starting to ooze its way out here too."

Havah sighed.

He spoke again, looking for answers. "What is it really like, at Earth Central?"

Havah just shook her head, and then held his eyes with a penetrating gaze. "I'll give you a piece of advice. Don't openly criticize the current administration, except with people you trust. Especially around anyone wearing this band or symbol." She tugged at it.

He nodded. "That's what I thought."

"So how's Carmen? I stopped in but she wasn't there. How're the outbreaks? Anything interesting?"

"The usual suspects: salmonella, shigella, ecoli, influenza, hep A. The station finally closed down that place in Down Below, the one that had the great hamburgers, that we always said were really the voles they trapped. Well, they had another ecoli outbreak and didn't meet the corrections specified by the health officer."

"So, no more vole-burgers?"

"No. Vole burgers are off the menu for Babylon 5. No more playing Russian roulette with people's gastrointestinal tracts. Sorry, I know you liked them."

"What about the place near there, that served the roach fritters or whatever the hell it was that always seemed to fall into those things?"

"They're still open."

"AhŠthat's comforting."

An explosion tore through a tram high up near the core, and a tiny dot was falling. Mutters raced through the crowd as quickly as the explosion. It was Sheridan. Minutes passed and there was no rescue, no time. The critical moment at which any Earth Force equipment could have helped him came and went, and he plummeted, from a speck to a doll-like figure. Then a bright pulse of light streamed from the crowd and rose into the air. It was a malach, an angel. NoŠa Minbari figure clothed in light, ValeriaŠthe figure kept shifting faces in front of Havah. Well, malachim were supposed to have many faces, many eyes, many forms. They were shape-shifters, adjusting their form to the Human, or Minbari ability to perceive them. Who knew what they really looked like? Havah wanted to fall to her knees, or remove her shoes, like the stories she had read about people's encounters with angels in the Torah. Remove your shoes, for you are on holy ground, she remembered. Never bow to me, I am not the Almighty, only a messenger, she remembered. And as she watched she remembered something else. She had seen this angel before, or a creature just like it. It was the Kosh from her dream. As she watched, Kosh drifted up and met Sheridan and floated back to ground. Sheridan was thunderstruck. He addressed Kosh respectfully and gratefully, and the malach nodded. His eyes emanated the sadness that Havah remembered from the dream. It had been himŠa thousand years ago on a hidden moon.

There was no question now in Havah's mind that she was living in a haunted house, and that she shared a body with something else, another personality. One that remembered a war Havah had never seen, eight hundred years before Havah's mother's people ever reached the stars. The Minbari Grey Council could believe what they liked about the origin of her own soul, but to Havah, this other presence, the one to whom the dreams were attached was a dybbuk, an intruder, a lost soul. No wonder that Centauri woman had called her that, and the Minbari warriors called her a changeling. She was, or at least they had sensed something in her that was. She stared and stared, long after Kosh had vanished into his suit again, and the room was a-whisper with what everyone had seen. Angels are real. After all this time. She thought. Angels are realŠand so are demons.

"Havah! Did you see that!"

"Yes. I saw."

"Amazing! Hey, are you alright?"

"No."

John peered at her, and clapped her on the shoulder. "I understand."

I doubt it, but thank you. She smiled and slipped away to her quarters.

* * * * * * * *

As Havah wound her way through the station, she passed Anla Shok she had seen trained. They nodded to her. If any noticed the armband, they expressed nothing. She contacted Delenn to notify her of recent developments on Earth, and be brought up to date concerning the situation on the station.

Delenn said, pouring a cup of tea, "I have given partial command of the Anla Shok to Captain Sheridan."

"So he knows about us? Does he know about the Shadows?"

"We have been preparing him."

"Then you trust him."

"I believe he will prove powerful in the coming war. Kosh has shown him the past, and he has demonstrated a desire to join our efforts. He lost his wife to the Shadows."

"When? I thought they were just re-appearing?"

"She was aboard the same expedition as Mr. Morden."

"Oh. Wow, it's a small galaxy. Is it possible that she could have survived as Morden did?"

"It is possible, but she would be as he now is. She would no longer be the person he knew and loved. If she survived, it will only be to serve them. They will have twisted her to suit their purposes."

"But would that be permanent? I mean, what if she were found, could she be deprogrammed or something? I mean, do you or Kosh think that people can return from that sort of thing eventually?"

"There has been no indication that anyone has ever succeeded in such a return."

"But that doesn't mean it couldn't happen, just that they haven't yet." It was strange, now that Delenn had mentioned Sheridan's wife, someone who had been connected to a network of people that mourned her, Havah wondered about Morden. Who had he been before he becameŠwellŠthe Antichrist? The word just popped in there, and that's when Havah realized how polarized this conflict had become, how polarized all of their thinking had become, without even being aware of it. Here were these mysterious beings, looking to everyone who saw them, like angels or some other cultural equivalent, and on the opposite end were these other beings who matched every cultural description of demons. How Zoroastrian, with beings of light fighting the forces of darkness for dominance over the galaxy across thousands of years, before any of the younger races, even the Minbari, had ever existed. What had caused this conflict to start? That was one of Sinclair's original questions. Were they any closer to an answer than when they started this preparation?

The door chimed, it was Sheridan. He glanced at the armband and straightened stiffly. Delenn immediately corrected him.

"Captain Sheridan. You were introduced earlier to the Anla Shok aboard the station. This is Anlashok Na Lassee. She is in charge of the Anla Shok in Earth's sector, and also acts as an executive officer for the Entilzah, headquartered on Minbar. You did not meet her earlier because she has been stationed on EarthŠamong the Nightwatch." Delenn glanced at the band, surmising quickly what had occurred, since Havah had not gotten a chance to brief her yet.

Havah bowed slightly to Sheridan.

He nodded. "LasseeŠHavah Lassee?"

"Yes, sir."

"So what's the news from Earth?"

"There's quite a bit. As you've already learned, the Ministry of Peace and the Nightwatch are calling the shots politically. They have authorization to delve into any private records, and their targets appear to be the politically and socially disenfranchised, and anyone whom they perceive to be a threat, but they're not targeting anyone big yet. You were the first person in a position of authority that I've seen them go after."

"Wonderful."

"I also have information about Clark, and about a man named Morden."

"I questioned him here."

"Well, he and Clark are linked. He was involved with the formation of a draft detailing everything that the administration is now instituting, right down to the use of the Nightwatch. He was on the board of an organization called Future Corporation, which purchased triangulation devices of the same type Garibaldi found, but a couple months before the assassination. As you must know by now, it was an assassination."

"Yes. Clark's physician fled here with information demonstrating that there was nothing physically wrong with Clark when he left Earth Force One, claiming to be sick. Kosh helped to hide the man, when the feds came looking for him."

"Is he still here?"

"No, and we handed the data over to a woman who said that she was part of a resistance movement."

Havah thought for a moment. That was certainly possible. She had gotten data from one such individual already. "There is a resistance movement, but it doesn't appear to be well organized yet. It's hard to identify these people, with things as they are back home. People are scared."

"It'll only get harder."

"That's true. The Shadows have been involved too, they're the ones pulling the puppet strings really." She filled him in on the conversation between Morden and Jensen, and her findings concerning the Markab plague, and the first phase of vaccinations for 'Grey Wind Fever'.

"I think that's a sound assumption. You said that Morden is never alone." He turned to Delenn, and then to her, and said curtly. "Thank you, Anlashok Lassee."

Delenn nodded, still looking shell-shocked about the origins of the Markab plague. She had not expected such atrocity so soon. The Shadows had been a daunting enemy in the last war, and it was clear that their ideas of civilization and honor did not match those of the Minbari, but this went beyond even the most marginal concept of fair play.

* * * * * * * *

Havah returned to her quarters, and began searching the computer files on the mythology of different races and different cultures. She knew of many Earth pantheons, but how well did they coordinate with those of other races? Could we all have had contact with these beings before space flight? Have we been influenced in earlier history, and if so, for how long? Of Earth legends, she found the Persian Ahura Mazda and Angra Mainyu, the opposing forces. Coyote the trickster tripped through Navajo tales, as Loki did through the Norse. In the Torah, were accounts of ha-shatan, the adversary angel, created by God to act as a prosecuting attorney and challenge man, in order to inspire growth. Among the legends of other races she found the Kal 'tot of the Minbari, the changelings sent among the Minbari people to lead to their annihilation, beings driven by Zhal 'An, the destructive principle of Dol 'An, as antimatter to matter. Numerous Centauri gods of strife marched, blasted, and poisoned their way into the stories she encountered, although many of these tales appeared to revolve around the detriment of forsaking tradition. That appeared to be how many of the researched cultures dealt with the various forces of chaos, by building a wall of ritual. The Book of G'quon had made mention of forces matching the description of the Shadows a thousand years ago, which had been incorporated into their myth cycles. But since it was considered disrespectful for the book to be read in anything other than the original Narn, and since it was an ancient dialect that had to be replicated word-for-word on only the most perfect of parchment, it didn't lend itself well to electronic storage, and Havah could not find it among the archives. But many of these characters of chaos did not correspond to the polarization of evil and good that appeared to be forming between the Shadows and the Vorlons. If these stories were roundabout attempts to describe actual contact situations, then maybe the answer of motive was already there, in the stories. Some acted as agents of chaos, some represented true evil, but others represented a strange guardianship, the givers of painful but necessary lessons. What was the real nature of the relationship between these Shadows, and the mysterious Vorlon allies of the younger races?

The door chimed and Havah unglued her bleary eyes from the screen. She opened the door and Birin poked her head in. Havah had lost track of Birin's posting here. The Minbari gave Havah a hearty hug, in fact, came as close to tackling Havah as the genteel Religious Caste woman ever would. Birin stood back. "Havah, it has been too long! How are you?ŠYou lookŠAre you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. How's it going? How are you and Trel?"

She beamed. "HeŠwe are well. We have gone through the second of the ceremonies for joining. Part of my family agreed to it and conducted the ceremony. The others were angry when they found out, but it is too late now. So they had to accept it. They will come around."

"Boy, you're getting pretty sly. What about his family?"

"They were concerned more about getting along with my family, than about our joining specifically, but they seem to be going along with it. His father was afraid though, that too much contact with the Religious caste will make Trel impractical and dreamy." She laughed, "But then his mother asked how that was different than the way he was before we met."

"Good point. He is a bit of a space cadet, no offense to the Religious caste."

"Of course he is a space cadet, he is Anla Shok, but he has passed from being a cadet months ago."

"IŠ" Havah shook her head and snickered. "That's an expression for someone who's not all there, you know, two cans short of a six-pack, a squirrel short of a picnic, elevator doesn't go to the top floor?Š"

Birin's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes! Of course! You mean, he is crazy!"

"Yeah."

Birin grinned.

Wow, Havah had missed her.

And Bir had missed the intense Human, with her colorful colloquialisms, especially the ones that irritated the more stodgy members of the Minbari. What an education she had gotten! Her friend looked worn though, no surprise considering where she had been. "Havah, are you really alright?" Birin knew that it was rude to ask such a question a second time, but Havah's appearance was marked with exhaustion. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was shades paler than it should have been considering her olive complexion.

Havah really didn't want to talk about work. "Yeah, I've just been thinking too hard about a lot of things."

Birin sat quietly. "About your father?"

That was a pretty good guess. "Yeah, I guess. I'm going back for training soon. I was really surprised that he wanted that. I thought he'd rather bury me in the backyard somewhere."

"The Warrior caste makes sure to watch over their own, or at least anyone who could eventually lead back to them. And Satai Neroon is one of the most traditional Minbari I have seen. He believes in the old ways. He is also a father figure to many, even if he does not know yet how to be a father. The instinct is in him. I know that you have your differences, and that my caste has their differences with him, but he is a good man at heart. He was just raised to be a warrior and nothing else. Had he been born into another caste, and given training, he might have made a good priest. I think that Shai Alyt Branmer was trying to influence him and give him a more thoughtful side. And if his fondness for the Shai Alyt was any indication, then it was beginning to work."

"Geez, so his death was even worse for Neroon than we thought."

Birin nodded, and cocked her head. There was more in this woman than the recent struggles with her father, or even with her home-world. She just waited.

Havah's thoughts drifted from her father to the other scruples that she had never shared with her Minbari compatriot. Why? Because she was Religious caste, and she might interpret Havah's dilemma the wrong way. What was the wrong way? Havah didn't even know herself what caused the dreams. "I've been having trouble sleeping. Well, lately I've been having trouble awake. I keep daydreaming, except they're more intense than normal dreams."

"About what?"

Havah let out a heavy breath. "About a woman named Turanni, about her life, her kid, her marriage, her choices."

"Yes. The chosen of Valen." She seemed unsurprised. "It is known to most of us now that you have a Minbari soul, someone interesting even among the Minbari."

Havah balked. "No, I don't mean that. I don't think it's that, I mean I don't think it works quite that wayŠShe's in my head, but I don't think she's part of me. I mean I don't think I have her soul, I think she's borrowing space in my head."

Bir just looked confused. "I do not see how that is possible. How can she be in your head, inside you, without being part of you?"

"Haven't you ever heard of possession? Isn't there some Minbari equivalent? What about the changelings?"

"No!" Bir gasped. "I mean, of course the changelings look Minbari, but they are not. That is different. Their souls are alien. The horror of the Kal 'tot is in what they appear to be but aren't. Turanni could never be such a soul. She was Minbari when she lived."

"I wasn't trying to insult her or anything, I justŠokŠHow do the Kal 'tot take their forms, don't they borrow Minbari bodies?"

"They can, I suppose, but it is just not the same. You are saying that because you are Human, you do not think that she could be born of a Human? Valen was a Minbari not born of Minbari."

"And what did your people think about him at first? Didn't they think he was a changeling for a while? I read that he did experience resistance, and that his children experienced some persecution because of this perception."

"Yes, that is true. His path was not an easy one. I do not know, Havah, I can only tell you what I believe. You must come to your own conclusions. Can you tell me about them, about the visions? When did they start?"

"When I was a kid. I don't remember how old I was exactly, only that I woke up screaming a few times because of dreams about these Shadows. My mom used to despair that they were never going to get any sleep again. I drew pictures of Minbari war cruisers, the real old ones, when I was in kindergarten. And these images have been getting stronger, more frequent, more insistent, like they're pushing everything else out of my head. Now I'm seeing things from her life when I'm awake."

"Like what?"

"Like Ambassador Kosh, like the first Grey Council, like some refuge that they built on a moon that they hid from everyone, with the Vorlon's aid. At first, all I saw was her death. I kept seeing her kid surrounded by Shadows, and felt her commit suicide, over and over, and over. And then, just when I thought I was going to go insane if I saw that one more time, I started seeing things from the rest of her life, mundane things, and other tragedies. I saw her father die in a battle between the Star Riders and the Wind Swords. I didn't even know who the clans were. I have enough of my own grief and my own problems, why am I carrying hers too?"

"Because she hasŠyouŠhave never let go of the past. There is something that remains for you to do here. You are needed here and now."

"But, if that's true, why as a Human? Given how particular the Minbari are about foreigners."

"Why was Valen thought of as being a foreigner? Because that is exactly what we need. As a people we are too close to our own flaws and puzzles to see a solution sometimes. We require new points of view, people who, whether they are Minbari or not, do not always think like the status quo, even if we resist them. Valen created a paradigm shift, one that was partially subsumed again by tenacious traditions, some of which were no longer useful to us. His work was never finished, but we've been treating it as if it was. Maybe that is why you are here. Prophecy said that the two halves of the Minbari world soul would be re-united. Maybe the coming of Valen was when it split. I believe that is why Delenn chose to become part Human, to represent this re-union. And you, you also display this union in your own body, in your own genetics and your own soul, like Delenn, but unlike her, you have not accepted it yet. You still fight against it. You are still fighting the war in your own mind. Think. If your soul, yours and Sinclair's and a number of others had not been what they were, we may have continued the war and destroyed the only people who may be able to help us now. Perhaps you are here to help finish what Valen started, the integration of new ideas."

"That's never finished. People are supposed to be fluid and changing."

"Yes! See, you understand this, but do you know how many of the Minbari do not? They remain stuck in a past that does not always serve them. That is why we are a fading people."

Havah began to protest, but Birin held up her hand. "You do not have to say otherwise. I know it. The Grey Council cannot hide this from us. Many people feel it besides me. We are stagnating. That is why our warriors are restless, that is why our population rate is declining. We have reached a plateau, just as the Vorlons appear to have done, except that we have not attained their level of technology or enlightenment."

"Don't be so sure about that enlightenment part. The jury is still out on the Vorlons, and you seem to have found solutions to problems we haven't managed to solve yet."

"Have we? With what, our caste system? Every solution we have come up with has critical flaws. And your race is very young. You will find your solutions, perhaps quicker than we did, proportionally. You have tried a number of different solutions in a shorter period of time. Some of them were unmitigated disasters, but at least you've tried and learned."

"Don't be so sure about that either." Havah grimaced, thinking about the Nightwatch.

"Well, but we move more slowly, we insist on keeping things as they are until they explode. We wait until there is no choice but to change or self-destruct. Tradition is important, but it is not everything. There must be room for growth. I know that these dreams are a burden to you now, and I know that you do not believe. Everything in your experience tells you that this is unnatural, but I do believe that you are here for a reason. I have believed that since I met you that day in the mud, before I knew about your memories. That is what they are. You know that, don't you?"

Havah didn't answer. Birin put her hand on the distressed woman's arm. "This changes nothing between us, nothing in our interaction. I will still be arrested with you and getŠ stoned with you, on chocolate. I know that one of the things you are afraid of is that you will suddenly be treated differently, like a glass doll. But you are a friend, and it does not matter to me if you are Human or Minbari, or what your soul was in a past life. We are here now, and you are my friend. No matter what else you have to think about or wonder about, you do not have to wonder about that."

Havah put her hand on Birin's. "ThanksŠHey, speaking of chocolate, we should go get some food tomorrow, before I leave again for Earth. That place with the great burgers was closed due to a foodborne outbreak, but I know of another hole in the wall with great frittersŠjust don't analyze what might be in them."

Bir laughed. "Yes, that would be good, I would like to try this. The Humans would say that I have gotten an iron stomach since eating Human food."

"You might need it here."

* * * * * * * *

"Mr. Welles. Can I speak with you for a moment?" A young uniformed security officer stood solicitously outside the door of Welles' quarters.

Sheridan's 'apology' to the Centauri for interfering in Centauri affairs had not gone as planned, but since there was nothing left to do, he was preparing to return to Earth. "Yes, of course. By all means, come in." Welles gestured warmly. "And you are?"

"Sgt. Dylan Lancaster, sir." He fidgeted, not knowing how to start.

Welles brought him a drink of water. "Relax, there is nothing to be nervous about. Here we are, just two men having a simple conversation."

Dylan fidgeted some more and then spoke, looking down at his feet. "I saw the roster of attendees at the meeting and I noticed Havah Lassee's name. WellŠThere's something that you should know about her. I used to date her, soŠI don't want her to get in trouble or anything. I know she didn't want anyone finding outŠabout her father. But it might be important if he tries to manipulate her. You should know who he isŠwhat he is."