The Great Machine on Epsilon 3, Chapter 3
Title: The Great Machine on Epsilon 3
Challenge AU Big Bang Challenge (au_bigbang)
Author: lil_utterance
Artist: beccastareyes
Fandom: Babylon 5/The Matrix
Pairing: Susan Ivanova/Talia Winters
Rating: PG-13.
Warning: non-graphic violence, a few naughty words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Artwork for Chapter 3 by beccastareyes
Chapter 3: Rock is Dead
“What is all this?” Susan asked Sinclair. “I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know what’s going on-hell, I don’t even know what to call you anymore. And generally-”
“You’re one of those people who knows what’s going on around them? Yes. And you still are, really. You just don’t have all the facts.”
“I’ll say. I thought you were on Minbar.”
“You thought correctly,” Sinclair said. He gestured to his clothing, which consisted of an assortment of Minbari robes overlaid with a thick cloak. A broach lay partially hidden in the folds of the cloak, and Susan couldn’t place where she had seen the delicately wrought silver figures that framed the green-colored stone that formed its center. “Minbar is where I received this attire and my new name.”
“Valen,” Susan said flatly.
Sinclair smiled again, and nodded. “To answer your earlier question,” he said, “you may call me whatever you want.”
Susan shifted uncomfortably. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did, but his equanimity coupled with the claims he was making unnerved her. “Did you take the name for political purposes?”
“Not exactly.”
“You can’t seriously believe that you are, what? A reincarnation of their great leader? You’re not even Minbari.”
Lennier spoke then. “My people believe that when we die, our souls are reborn into the next generation of Minbari. Much to our consternation, in recent years we had noticed that some of our souls did not seem to be returning and we were made less by their loss. During the Earth-Minbari war, we appeared to discover the reason why these souls had not been discovered among our own people-they were being born into yours.”
“So you’re saying that the Minbari believe that he is actually Valen?” Susan wondered when she’d wake up from this dream-and if she could somehow trigger the process.
“Yes.”
“All of them? Even Delenn?”
“Enough of them.” He exchanged an amused look with Sinclair. “And Delenn, most certainly.”
“How did they figure this out?” Susan asked. “I mean, he lived so long ago…”
“It’s a long story, probably best shared at a later time,” Sinclair said. “We can’t stay here much longer.”
“We just wanted to ensure that you understood the connection,” Lennier said, “and convince you that he is not, as you say, having ‘delusions of grandeur’”.
“I wouldn’t mention ‘delusions’ if I were you, Monk,” Winter said. The edges of a smile gave Susan an idea of how the comment was meant to be taken.
“Hey,” Susan said, “at this point, if I am crazy, I’m just glad I’ve imagined myself some company.”
“And if it were up to your imaginings,” Warlock said, arching an eyebrow, “this is the best you could do? I suppose we should be flattered.”
“You might try supposing-”
“I said you were right about many things,” Sinclair interrupted. He caught the full force of Susan’s glare for his efforts, but it hardly seemed to bother him any more than it had back when he was her commanding officer. “You’ve sensed that the universe around you is broken in some way you can’t quite describe. You see it most clearly with the Corps-”
“But it’s not just them,” she said. “They were just the clearest sign of a telepath problem that has been ignored for too long. A problem that should be clear to anyone who even looks in that direction-”
“-and yet all the signs are being ignored?” Sinclair asked. At her nod, he continued, “It’s not the only problem that’s obvious once you’ve seen it. The Corps is just the most relevant sign for you, as it was for Winter and…others you’ll soon meet. For Monk,” he gestured towards the Minbari Susan had known for the past several years as Lennier, “it was the sudden failing of leadership - of rebirth - among the Minbari.”
“What about you?” Susan asked, turning towards Warlock.
In response to her question, he conjured a murky orb in which she could see nothing. “My tech started casting shadows,” he said as he stared into the nothing he held. It disappeared as suddenly as it had sprung into existence, leaving Susan with little more idea of what he meant than she would have had if he had said nothing at all.
“It’s all connected,” Sinclair said. “And it’s all part of the same problem you’re having-and right now you cannot see the whole story, even if we were to tell it to you.”
“I’d settle for having one or two of my questions answered with more than a request for further patience,” Susan said.
“Do you believe in fate, Susan?” Sinclair asked.
“No, I don’t. And that’s another question in response to my own, not an answer.”
“True. But I ask that you allow me a few more.” He moved towards her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you believe in me? Do you trust me?” He asked the question with the same quiet confidence he had always evidenced when he sought her opinion as her CO - and her friend - back on Babylon 5.
She looked up into his face and shook her head. “Even after all this, I’ll be damned if I still do. Though it hardly seems fair to hold it against me, Jeff.”
“I’m not holding it against you.” He smiled at her. “It will just make the process easier.” When he stepped back from her, the entire group around Susan rose as one and started walking down the corridor. “Come with us,” Sinclair said to her. “And I’ll show you the truth about the Corps and the world we live in. Come with us,” he let out a breath as she nodded, before finishing his statement, “And I’ll show you the Great Machine.”
***
“Ah! I see you brought another conductor to our little drama.” The Minbari smiled as he stepped from the metal confines of the machine that had captured Susan’s attention the moment she walked in the room. Between the great metal frame, the wires, and all the attendant beeps and hums, she wondered how she even managed to pay attention to his words at all. In any other circumstances, his deep voice, softened by genuine curiosity, would have made any situation seem less dire, but she couldn’t shake the unease that the first glimpse of the machine had awakened within her.
“Conductor?” she asked.
“The minute I plug you in,” he said, nodding towards the person-shaped opening in the machine he had just vacated, “you’ll be one. The amount of energy you’ll be channeling, well it’s-”
“No more than she can handle.” A slim, red-headed woman stepped out from behind one of the silver arms of the machine. She was dressed in the same leather get-up as Winter-pants, jacket, the whole number. Susan had to wonder about the type of organization she was considering joining; whether the outfits came standard issue or were a new trend amongst telepaths that she had missed. Having worked with more than one rebel teep group, she thought not. Generally, the rogues liked to avoid attracting attention.
“I was certainly not going to voice doubt over her abilities.” The Minbari sounded scandalized at the accusation. “I merely wanted to let her know that once plugged-in, she would experience a sudden surge in energy.”
“Whatever. It’s more accurate to say that you’re disconnecting her, anyways. I don’t know why you always feel the need to confuse the issue.” She turned to Susan. “It’s nice to finally put a person to your voice, Nova. I’m called Alex, though I’m sure you’ve already recognized my voice.”
“Been doing that a lot today,” Susan said, glancing at Winter.
“I’ll bet,” Alex replied. If she put any real sympathy behind the words, it was too subtle for Susan to be able to pick up on it.
“I know your real name too,” Susan said. “All the vids of you during your brief tenure on B5 were locked, but I managed to pull your file. You’re Lyta Alexander. You left the station after you scanned Kosh.”
“I left a lot more than Babylon 5 after I scanned a Vorlon,” Alex replied. She waved off Susan’s questioning look. “You’ll understand what I mean in a few minutes.”
“Doc’s not here?” Sinclair asked, finally breaking into the conversation.
“No, we left him back in White Star to prep for Nova’s arrival,” Alex said. “Oz thought that if there were any negative effects from the escape, she would have a harder time dealing with them unplugged.”
“Who’s Oz?” Susan asked, unnecessarily as it turned out, as the middle aged Minbari in front of her had already started to defend himself.
“She’s doing just fine. But those wounds will seem worse once we shock her system.”
“As if I’m not shocked now,” Susan said. “I never thought I’d see a Minbari named for a character in a human children’s story book.”
“I like your books about wizards! That’s the name I wanted, actually,” Oz said. “Wizard.” His tone became long-suffering. “But far be it from me, to encroach on the territory of another.”
“Your voice encroaches on my territory,” Warlock said, not even looking up from the newly-conjured orb he was studying.
“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Oz winked at Susan. “You’re seeing the men behind the curtain. We’re much more impressive when we’re done up in our machines. It’s almost…magical.”
That did make Warlock look up from his project. “We’re both charlatans, you and I. None of what we do is magic.”
“A most pessimistic point of view.”
“I would instead call it a most realistic point of view,” Lennier’s voice echoed from below the machine, and Susan started. She hadn’t even noticed him move into the crawl space. “I still don’t understand how you can remain so emotionally attached to this tech.”
“Spend a full cycle here, with my view.” Oz’s hands swept outwards, though the grandness of the gesture was somewhat ruined by the fact that all that surrounded their group and the machine was crumbling rock. “You couldn’t fail to understand.”
“I might understand how to operate it,” Lennier responded. “But as for-”
“Enough,” Sinclair said. “It’s a necessary piece of equipment, and it’s time to use it.” He nodded at Oz, who moved back over to opening in the machine and started making adjustments.
“We’ll find our stations,” Alex said to Sinclair. “Does she need a stabilizer?”
“Are you kidding?” Oz asked, his smile huge as he stepped back to survey his work. “This is going to be fun! Her brainwaves were off the charts earlier today. In all my time as gatekeeper, I have yet to see anything like it.”
“You took her for a ride didn’t you?” Alex asked Winter, as the two of them walked to adjacent terminals to the left of the machine. She took Winter’s silence as assent. “Yeah, I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist. How did she do?”
The question seemed eager - too eager - and Susan heard everyone around her inhale sharply.
“She did fine,” Winter said quietly. “Valen, I assume we are ready?”
Sinclair looked over at Susan. “Are you ready to see how far down this all goes?”
Susan found herself unable to do more than nod, but apparently he didn’t expect anything more. He didn’t lead, but walked with her over to where Oz waited. Once her integration into the machine began, he left her to give instructions to the others, all scattered at different stations throughout the room. She had no clue what any of them did, or, possibly more importantly, what any of the nodes, sensors, or clamps being put on her did either.
“Don’t worry,” Oz said when he caught sight of her frown. “The interfering signal’s been weak all day. It should be an easy transition out.”
“Out of where?” Susan asked. She wondered if something attached to her had started to pump her body full of drugs, because she suddenly felt herself at a distance from her surroundings, the effect similar to sleepiness, to dreaminess, but a whole lot more. She gasped as the world fell away from her and she found herself slipping into another bluish light-path, vaster and more far-reaching than anything she had ever conceived.
You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,” Oz said. His voice whispered and began to fade as she slipped into the light surrounding her. “Just follow the yellow brick road.”
***
((For a long time she couldn’t do more than follow. It was more terrifying - more exhilarating - than the trip she had taken before. Here she moved so quickly that she couldn’t even experience her progress as more than the awareness that she must be moving. Else why did nothing around her ever look the same?
But then she looked up and saw the deepest of colors-the richest of tones. It spoke to her, and the sound was-
She forced herself upwards, willing the movement, willing her progress, even when it seemed her skeleton would rip from her skin. The path around her concussed, and for a moment her existence inverted, her consciousness tied up in the power surrounding her, her body a separate entity.
“A normal human mind should not be able to do this.” She heard the words, felt them throughout the whole of her existence, before a force shoved her back inside her body. Too tired, too removed, to struggle any longer, she let the path carry her forwards. As she moved towards its destination, everything around her started to fade.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able to do this.
The single thought she could hold amidst a light cloud of fading blue.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able to do this.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able-
A normal human mind-
Susan Ivanova’s universe went black.))
***
When she opened her eyes, the world seemed a blurry, new-made thing. As her vision cleared, she realized she was being carried across a bridge…and the ground was really, really far below them. She forced herself to take in the view; though she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to accept what surrounded her. Some type of ancient ruins had been built into the walls that edged the chasm the bridge crossed-and wedged every which way into the remnants of a forgotten civilization were cryo-storage units.
And she was pretty sure they were full. Which meant that unconscious people numbering somewhere in the millions surrounded her; and if the number of cords which snaked out of the units were any indication, they were not being left to rest peacefully.
Movement across the chasm caught her attention, and she realized that elevators moved up and down between the units. She watched as one slowed, then paused. A moment later one of the units went dark, and then something fell, silently, into the pit below them.
She felt a hand brushing her cheek and looked up into Jeff’s sorrowful gaze.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice an almost inaudible rasp.
“Welcome to the real world, old friend.” His smile seemed to her as ancient as the ruins surrounding them. “Sleep now,” he said. “We’ll talk after you’ve been acclimated.”
***
They stood side-by-side, staring down at the unconscious figure on the table in front of them. It had become a routine for them-meeting here once a day for the last week. Usually, they didn’t speak; but today, the day before she was scheduled to be awakened, conversation seemed unavoidable.
“Did you learn anything about her, while you were in her mind?”
“I tried not to look around too much.”
“You spent at least an hour in there, on the shuttle.”
“Fine,” she said, after a lengthy pause. “But basic information only, alright?
“I’d hardly expect you to betray any of your confidences.”
“She performed a path exercise without being unplugged.”
“Difficult, but not unheard of. You did the same.”
“Jason Ironheart was far more connected than I will ever be. He helped me. He showed me the way.”
“Ironheart was powerful, and losing him was the greatest setback our team has ever endured. But don’t underestimate your connection.”
“I don’t. I just understand the limits of my abilities.”
“I know you do. Thus, you should recognize that I was referring to more than your interface with the tech.”
“Just as you should realize that, great leader or no, I will free-fall you the next time we plug in together if this conversation continues much longer.”
“Then I shall look forward to having the chance to successfully evade your attack.”
Winter eyed him, then laughed. “Are you ever going to wake up from that dream, Valen?”
He looked up from his contemplation of the woman lying on the table. “You can hardly blame me from holding onto the impossible,” he said, and walked away before Winter could respond.
***
The moment Susan woke up, she tried to get out of bed. Her first glance around the room had allowed her to believe herself alone, but the minute she knocked over a tray of instruments she was quickly disabused of that first impression of solitude.
“Easy now,” a voice said, as warm, brown hands covered her own. She caught a glimpse of a green lab coat in front of her, and guessed the speaker to be some type of doctor. However, she kept looking at their hands rather than looking upwards to confirm; the healthiness of his skin tone contrasted so markedly with her own. When had her hands grown so pasty and wasted? She found herself distracted enough by the sight to allow him to help her back into bed without protesting.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, finally looking up at him. “When will I be able to get up and move around?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, exactly,” he said. “You’ve just never used those muscles before. I’ve accelerated the growth, but I would recommend you not push your luck.” He smiled at her, a smile that reached his eyes. “In other words: take it easy for a few days.”
She wanted to argue with him, she really did; obeying doctors’ orders had always struck her as a general waste of time. But after only a few seconds of standing her legs had turned to jelly-not to the mention the fact that ever since she’d taken that first step out of bed her whole body had been quivering worse than newly-made flarn. She decided it might be better for her health to satisfy her curiosity in a manner that did not involve movement.
For now.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Out there or in here?”
Susan glanced towards the door. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes, though not in the way you’re thinking.” He took in her puzzled frown and sighed. “My handle is Doc-you can start there.”
Mr. Garibaldi would have a field day, she thought. What’s up, Doc? But thinking of Garibaldi, of Zack and what had happened, was too painful to voice; so she limited herself to continuing with the polite introductions. “Nice to meet you.” Her hand skimmed across her neck and shoulder as she realized something else. “And thank you for healing my wounds.”
“Just doing my job.” He sat down in a chair beside her bed, his gaze accessing. “What do you want me call you?”
“You’re not just going to call me ‘Nova’ like everyone else?”
“No. I understand that some of us had stronger ties to our old lives than others. I’ll call you whatever you want to be called.”
“It would be better for her if she adapted quickly,” Sinclair said, joining their conversation as he walked in the door. “And taking on a different identity will help with the process.”
Susan discovered she had finally reached her limit on the censored and the cryptic. She turned back to the doctor. “Call me Susan,” she told him firmly.
“Well, then it’s nice to meet you, Susan.” He pretended not to notice Sinclair’s disapproving look as he gathered some of the print-outs strewn across the room. “I’ll leave you two to your conversation.” His voice turned hard as he addressed Sinclair. “Mind you don’t strain her though-being unplugged is bad enough without being mangled first.”
“That mangling, as you put it, saved her life.”
“Oh, I know that Lock did the best he could, and she’s strong, but there are limits as to how much regeneration can occur at once. If you don’t want to put her right back in a coma, give it a day or two before beginning training.”
“Oh, I think I can promise that much,” Sinclair said lightly. “It will take me that long to explain all of this to her satisfaction.” He looked over at Susan. “Would you like me to begin?”
At her nod, the Doc walked out of the room, and Sinclair began to relate to her what seemed like more nightmare - more story - than her own new reality.
***
Susan sat alone in the small quarters they had provided for her. Doc had okayed the move, as long as she didn’t make it on her own, after she had told him that she would prefer to have some privacy to process all her newly acquired information.
So, this was the real world. The real universe. This post-apocalyptic cliché.
She ran a hand through the spiky-fuzz that comprised her hair. When asked, Doc had said that he was doing his best to accelerate its growth, but her other systems still required aid-and functionality always came before form. She understood; in fact, she couldn’t wait for whatever training they had planned so that she could once again have control over herself and her movements. All she knew for certain was that she felt glad that the black jumpsuit they had given her covered most of her body. It helped her forget.
Too bad the metal wall behind her, cold against her back, did not. White Star. A pretty name for a clunky ship that constituted her new home. Although she had to admit, she didn’t know if she would ever consider herself to have a home again.
“So the Earth-Minbari war never happened?” Susan asked Sinclair. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Not at all. It just didn’t happen the way you and I have been taught to believe.”
“Did one side actually win?”
“I suppose you could say there was a winning side. It just wasn’t either of the races that started the conflict.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And I apologize in advance for having to take that from you.”
Before her earlier conversation with Sinclair, if asked, Susan would have said that she always preferred knowledge rather than ignorance. That she always preferred the truth.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“The Minbari were stronger than us,” Sinclair said. “They still are. You know it, and it’s a fact that stays true whether you’re in there or out here. So we decided to use technology to overcome them.”
“But isn’t their technology more advanced than ours too?”
“It should have been. But we’d recently acquired a new type of AI.”
“Acquired from where?”
“I don’t know. Over the years, we’ve pieced together most of the events from our fall, but no one’s been able to discover the origin of our tech.”
“Considering I just escaped from a machine and the universe it created, I can guess what happened next,” Susan said. “Did the AI even engage with the Minbari before it subsumed us?”
“It wasn’t just our AI that did this,” Sinclair said. “The Minbari doomed themselves to the same fate. You see, when their system detected our AI’s hack, they responded with one of their own. Then it became a war of the machines-we were all of us organics cut out of the loop.”
“Whose AI won?”
“Neither. And that is our greatest hope.”
“Our greatest hope is that they keep battling, with us caught in the middle? You told me the machine is using human bodies as a power source.”
“No, our greatest hope is that we can help the Minbari tech, Vortex, to help annihilate our tech. You see, Shadowtech is the AI platform that chose to enslave us all. Vortex tried to stop it; they are still trying to stop it. Vortex wants to co-exist with organics, not dominate them. We’re working with it to try and bring down the system.”
“How are we working with it?”
Sinclair’s communicator beeped. “I’m going to have to take this-we’ll finish tomorrow. But as to your last question…you’ve heard of the Ancient Ones, yes?”
“Yes. G’Kar used to talk about them. Something about ‘giants in a playground’. It never made much sense to me.”
“Well, that’s what the AI poses as in our simulated reality. They battle there as two ancient races. Their names correspond to the tech they evolved from. There are the Shadows, who you’ve probably never seen,” he held her gaze, “and then there is the other race.”
“The Vorlons,” Susan said, stunned. “Kosh.”
“Exactly,” he said. “But enough today. We’ll talk about telepaths - and the Corps - tomorrow.”
She thumped her head back against the wall. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Sinclair hadn’t provided her with a reason for her particular removal from the system. The way everyone she passed here kept looking at her, going silent around her-something was up.
Her door beeped.
“Enter,” she said without thinking. She then remembered that access to quarters in this ship required manual confirmation. Slowly and more stiffly than she would have preferred, she moved to the keypad by the door.
Winter stood outside. “I brought you some dinner,” she said, holding up the tray. When Susan made no move to take it, Winter moved forwards a step or two. “May I come inside?”
Without a word, Susan stepped back to let her pass.
“Would you like it here?” Winter asked. She stood beside the desk; it and the cot made up the entirety of the furnishings in the room.
“Sure.” Susan considered Winter closely as she put down the tray. “Is there enough in there to share?” she asked, ignoring the surprised look she received in response.
“If you’re not very hungry.”
“I’m not.”
They pulled the cot up to the desk and sat side-by-side on it, as if it were a bench. Susan knew she should eat, even if she didn’t feel hungry, but the removal of the tray cover in no way helped her appetite.
“What am I looking at?” she asked.
“The grey blocks are cut from the bricks of nutrient paste we always have on hand. It never goes bad, and it’s surprisingly easy to manufacture. I can’t vouch for the taste, but at least it does its job. Eat this for a week, and your muscles will thank you.” Winter pointed to the small, red fruit. “And this is a rare treat. A couple months ago we found a small world the Minbari had once colonized-it had escaped the worst of the bombing. We took a few cuttings of some berry vines. Monk’s been able to successfully transplant them to our small hydroponics garden. What you see here is from our first crop.”
“I see.” She studied the food a minute longer. “Thanks for explaining.”
“No problem. Still want to share?”
Susan nodded, and the two of them began eating. Two paste blocks were all Susan could manage before nausea crept in. She leaned over and put her head between her knees. Hopefully, deep breaths would be enough to prevent vomiting; she knew she couldn’t afford to lose calories right now.
She felt a tentative hand on her back. When she didn’t protest, it started rubbing slow circles right below her neck.
“The first week is always the worst,” Winter said quietly.
“It’s all just words right now,” Susan said. She couldn’t believe how much easier it was to be honest when she had an excuse not to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Even with this place, this food-I need something to make it real.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Try to stop me from entering your mind.”
Susan did look up then. She also got up off the cot and moved across the room. “Why is your first response to every situation to try and jump into my mind? You know that even with my mental blocks up, I can’t…” Her eyes widened. “What…I…” She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them again, she was fighting overwhelming confusion. It was as close to feeling pure panic as she had come since reaching this place. “I don’t have mental blocks. I can’t even feel you.”
“It’s alright, Nova. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“What did you do to me? Even for you, this type of invasion should be completely beyond acceptable.”
“I didn’t do anything. Like you, I can’t do anything. We’re not telepathic out here.”
“What?” Susan whispered. “You mean what we are, what we do, it’s all part of the machine?”
“I…” Winter looked away. “I shouldn’t say anymore. Valen usually goes over all this with new recruits.”
Susan wrapped her arms around herself and glared at her. “Explain it to me. Now.”
“Look, I really am sorry,” Winter began awkwardly, “but I shouldn’t-”
“Winter, I just woke up to a new reality. I’ve been shot at, ripped up, mentally invaded. My body’s weaker than it’s been at any time since I went through puberty. I’m eating paste to survive, and almost no one on this damned ship will call me by my real name.” She moved back over to where Winter sat and sank back down onto the cot. “And all of that, I could handle. But now you tell me I’ve lost part of my mind too.”
“I thought you didn’t even like that part.”
“It wasn’t my favorite part, but it was part of my identity. A part I received from my mother.”
Winter sighed. “You’re sort of right about that last part. It is genetic. It’s just not…”
“What?”
“We’re anomalies. Anomalies created by the Vorlons.”
“The Vorlons engineered telepaths?”
“Yes. They changed us. Made us able to better interface with the tech. We can go deeper than the normal human. Plugged in, we can jump from mind to mind. Unplug us, and we’re even stronger.”
“I thought we couldn’t do anything out here.”
“Right, pardon the terminology. Confusing as hell, I know. I mean, once we’ve been unplugged-so we know when we’re plugged back in. An unplugged telepath who is re-introduced to the system can become a teek, among other things. We’re able to exert a lot of control over our environment.”
“That’s why stable telekinetics are so rare then, generally? Only the unplugged are eligible for long-term admission?”
“Pretty much. Trying to force that type of connection on the unaware tends to interfere with their projected reality. It makes them unstable. The Shadows have tried-used the Corps for experiments. So far they’ve had very little success.”
Susan smiled grimly. “The Shadows are responsible for the Corps? Seems appropriate.”
“Doesn’t it? Most of us telepaths sense it at some level. The darkness. The wrongness. Or at least we do as long as we don’t progress too far into the Organization.
“What do they do with us?”
“Now? The Shadows recruit us. Used to be they’d hunt us down. They didn’t approve of organics having any kind of control over their tech, even if it was unconscious. We could disrupt their signals, etc, etc. However, once they realized how much they could make the rest of humanity hate us, they decided to make use of us. Today they use us as bases for some of their mobile platforms.”
Susan processed the new information for a minute. “We…hack…for them?” she finally tried.
“Sort of. You and I, we’ve always been able to read minds.” Winter waved away Susan’s objections. “We’ll talk about your psi-level later. When we re-introduce you, after some training you should be able to jump from mind-to-mind and observe what others are seeing. If you’re really good, you should be able to travel with multiple minds at once.” At Susan’s dubious look, Winter shrugged. “You’ll see. We refer to it as going ‘mind’s eye’. It’s pretty powerful stuff. But a Psi-Cop - a telepath who’s been interfaced with a Shadow - they can not only dominate the minds of others, control them-they can literally take over the other person. They become them; the other consciousness is gone. And since we self-actualize, their form usually goes right along with the rest of them.”
“Are they even human anymore? The Psi-Cops, I mean.”
“Hard to say. Best we can tell, they’re more code than anything else. So much Shadowtech has been injected into their minds, there’s not room for much else. Certainly not emotions.”
“We were in danger, when we were fleeing,” Susan said. “That’s why you had us focus our minds on that rhyme.”
“Yes. They tried to D&D us-that’s how we refer to their download and deletion protocol. Our focusing like that, it’s a sort of firewall. It blocks the signal.”
“But why would they bother to put that Keeper on me, if they were just going to delete me? Would they have used my shell to get close to Sinclair?”
“They would have tried, though they might have been in for a surprise.” Winter’s voice turned hard, “If they had managed to get into your mind, they probably wouldn’t have deleted you. But that would have only been worse. Trust me on that. Whatever you are, you wouldn’t have been ready to handle them.”
Susan knew she must be gaping, but she couldn’t help herself. This was closest anybody had come to telling her straight-out the reason for her presence here. “And what do you think I am?”
Winter shook her head. “No. I’ve already said more than I should. You want the rest, you talk to Valen tomorrow. This is his area of expertise.”
“Fine,” Susan said, her temper flaring. “I’d hate to put anyone else off their schedule.”
Winter gathered up the tray without a word and stalked towards the door. She punched the keypad and took a few steps forward, then hesitated. She glanced over shoulder. “What do I think you are, really? I think you’re a good addition to the team. That’s all I know right now, and that’s all I need to know.”
***
“You do not customarily bring new recruits food,” a voice said as Winter walked down the corridor outside Nova’s room. “Is it because she might be different?”
Winter turned. “It’s not really any of your business, but let’s just say that I was there when her Keeper was removed, so I know it was not the gentlest of processes.”
“You are aware that giving her special treatment will not help her integrate faster, yes?”
“Monk, I’m tired. Is there some deeper point you’re trying to make?”
“You’ve been different since you talked to the Oracle. I know it is a…personal…experience, but I just wondered if you would mind-”
“I would mind.” Winter rubbed her bare hands together. Even out here, she still sometimes felt self-conscious about her lack of gloves. “And you should know that.”
Monk inclined his head. “I am sorry if my question offended.”
“You didn’t offend me, Monk. I don’t think you’re capable of offending me. Remember, I was part of the Corps.”
“That was your old life. You are allowed to have higher expectations now.”
“I would, but I hate being disappointed.” She frowned and looked down the corridor. “And speaking of disappointment, aren’t you keeping Pike waiting? I know he was looking forward to spending the evening with you.”
“He told you that?”
“It’s Pike. He told the whole room. I just happened to be there.”
“I will go then,” Monk said. The corners of his mouth hinted at an upward turn, and Winter found herself giving him a smile in response.
“Enjoy your evening,” she said, watching him as he hurried down the hall.
***
The next morning Susan wasn’t prepared for what she encountered when she stepped outside her quarters. She hadn’t even had the energy to ask about her neighbors when Doc had dropped her off last night, but apparently today was the day for her education. In the doorway across from hers stood Alex. Although, perhaps ‘stood’ was not the appropriate verb considering the fact that one of her legs was wrapped around Warlock’s waist. The two of them were so involved in each other, they didn’t even notice Susan walk past; Susan tried to return the favor and ignore them, though Alex’s low laughter and the warning beep of their door made it a harder task than she would have liked.
She had just made it to the end of the corridor, and was wondering whether or not she would be able to find the mess hall on her own, when Winter appeared.
“Morning, Nova,” she said. “I’m here to lead you down for breakfast.”
“You got here just in time,” Susan said. “A couple minutes later and I would have embarked on the full tour. You might not have found me until dinner.”
“If then. The layout of this place isn’t particularly transparent. It’s supposed to be a safeguard, if we’re ever boarded. The machines expect logic-the idea is that inconsistency slows them down. Personally, I think it just makes it harder to run things around here.”
Susan surprised herself by laughing. “Logic from the woman who thought the best plan of escape from Babylon 5 was a motorcycle chase?”
“That’s me. Human inconsistency at it’s finest.”
“You’re a true resistance fighter, then?”
“Ranger,” Winter said. “We’re called Rangers. It’s a long story, I’ll-”
“-tell me later,” Susan finished. “How utterly unsurprising.”
They entered one of the tubes that moved between decks and stood together silently as they dropped several levels.
“How are you doing?” Winter finally asked as they stepped out of the tube into a darkly lit corridor.
“Physically, fine. As for the rest…I still don’t know. Is there anything else I should know about the crew? I got quite a surprise when I stepped out of my quarters this morning. It made me wonder what else I might not know about.”
“You mean Alex and Lock? Yeah, they’re not always the most discreet.”
“I didn’t even know they were a couple.”
“They’re not, really. They just spend the night together sometimes.” Winter paused, then continued, her voice thoughtful. “The best I can tell, he lost someone he really cared for right before he came to us. Occasionally, when we’re inside the system he let’s his barriers slip, and I’ve seen-”
“I don’t want to hear any information obtained that way!” Susan said. “Just tell me what any member of the crew who had been here a couple months would know.”
“I was only going to say that I’ve seen her face. He’s already told all of us that he joined our group to find the Shadow agent responsible for Isabelle’s death and kill him. The rest doesn’t take much of an intuitive leap.” She put a hand on Susan’s arm and stopped her. “I don’t betray people’s confidences,” she said, not letting go until Susan nodded.
“Anything else I should know about?”
“Well, you already know Valen. Doc’s a great guy, a trained xenobiologist. He knows everything about everything and doesn’t mind questions. Oz pretty much stays inside the machine, so you won’t be interacting with him much on the ship.”
“Sounds like he pulled a hard duty.”
“He volunteered to be gatekeeper. He’s not afraid of the tech-I think he enjoys the connection. Not being a telepath, it’s the best he’s ever going to get without betraying us and going over to the other side.” She laughed at the look on Susan’s face. “Joke, Nova. Since you made one a minute ago, I thought you’d recognize it. My mistake.”
Susan chose not to dignify the remark with a response. “Anything else I should know?”
Winter sighed. “The only other crew members are Monk, who you know, and Pike, who you don’t. They’re sort of...seeing each other. I mean, according to Pike, they definitely are. Monk’s more reticent, but I don’t think he’d mind me talking about it.”
“And that’s everyone?”
“That’s everyone who’s here right now.”
“You realize I can see that dodge from a lightyear away?”
“I thought I’d make it easy on you, what with you just recently being separated from your telepathic abilities.”
“Be honest with me,” Susan said, turning to hold Winter’s gaze. “Will you ever answer my questions without hedging, or is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my time here?”
Winter stopped walking; when she spoke in response, her voice was steady. “As soon as I begin your training, you can ask me any question you want, and I’ll respond as honestly as I’m able. I can’t guarantee that my knowledge is complete, but I won’t hold anything back.” She held herself still, open to Susan’s assessment of her. “No more dodges.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Susan offered her a small smile. “Though I hardly needed more reasons to want to move past the talking and into the training.”
“Yeah, we’ll see what you say after a few path-runs. You might decide the bribery wasn’t so bad after all.”
***
The mess hall wasn’t so different from what Susan was used to--at least if she didn’t look at the food too closely.
“I know it’s terrible, isn’t it?” She turned to find a man sitting down to her left. He had dark hair about the length her own had been before her transition, dark eyes, and a winning smile. She guessed he pretty well knew the effect of that smile.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“I’m assuming your glum face is over what’s on your plate. I might not get real food much,” he said, helping himself to a few blocks of paste, “but what little I’ve had tells me that most of it is better than this.”
“How is it that you’ve had so little experience with food?”
“Nova, meet Pike.” Winter said. “He’s natural born.” She handed Susan a cup of water and sat across from them. “One of the happy few conceived outside the machine.”
Susan found she didn’t know quite what to say. “Congratulations?” she tried. Now that she looked at him, she realized that when he moved his head she didn’t see the distinctive gleams of metal that indicated a tech interface. “I hadn’t even thought to wonder...” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I hadn’t realized people had been outside the machine long enough to...”
“Apparently, it doesn’t take very long,” he informed her. “But yes, it’s true.” He tilted his head to one side and flashed her another smile. “I’m a real boy.” His expression sobered. “Though it’s not as exciting as you think.”
“Yes, not having to undergo the disconnect process must be torture,” Winter said.
At Susan’s baleful look, he held up his hands. “Wait, yes, it’s true. I’ve never had to deal with the tech. Which means,” he stabbed another grey cube with his fork and lifted it for their inspection, “I’ve never had the chance to eat many decent meals. I’ve never gotten to walk around on Earth-not even a fake one. And I’ve never gotten to see one of the Ancient Ones.” He eyed his fork thoughtfully. “You know, sometimes I think I would trade it all in for a glimpse of a Vorlon-”
“Don’t even finish that thought,” Doc said as he walked into the room. “There are few enough of us as it is, without you surrendering yourself back into the machines.”
“You know he speaks only in jest,” Lennier said, joining their table. “You’re simply worried about losing your favorite research subject.”
“Monk!” Pike turned to Susan. “Isn’t it sweet, the way he defends my honor?”
“I-” Susan found herself briefly distracted as Alex and Warlock entered the room several paces apart from each other, as though they hadn’t spent the morning together. “I suppose so?”
“Hey,” Doc said. “I’ve done the same tests and blood-work on Pike as I’ve done on everyone else. The only difference in his treatment are the extra scanning procedures he allows me to perform. How else am I ever going to see a non-wired human brain?”
“He did scans twice last week alone,” Pike informed the group. He glanced over at Lennier, his face studiously innocent. “Monk, I know how you always talk about the Minbari having a higher, purer, form of love, but I have to tell you,” he gestured towards the doctor, “this man loves me solely for my mind.”
“For who could resist such a temptation?” Warlock asked sarcastically.
Pike nudged Susan. “Now who’s got a case of Pikal envy?”
Alex laughed. “As if he’d ever have cause to be envious.” She shared an amused look with Winter, and Susan knew that if they’d been in the system right now, the two of them would be trading a series of thoughts that didn’t bear repeating.
“Oh, are we talking about our relationships now?” Pike asked. “In that case-”
“It’s probably time we moved on to more noteworthy topics,” Sinclair finished for him. He stood outside the doorway and made no move to enter the room. “Are you ready?” he asked Susan.
“Yes,” she said, immediately moving to join him. She wanted this over with.
“Winter, be on call,” Sinclair said. “We’ll need you later. You too, Alex.”
The two telepaths looked at each other. “We hadn’t expected any less,” Winter finally said. “You’ll let us know...”
“I will,” he said firmly. He waited until he and Susan were part-way down the hallway before speaking again. “I’d like to thank you, Susan, for your patience. This has been a very trying time; it’s taken longer than usual to give you all the information you need to know.”
“Winter told me the truth about my telepathy last night,” Susan said, hoping that he wouldn’t make an issue of it.
“Good,” he said. “That will save us a lot of time today.”
How much more can he possibly have to say? Susan wondered as they continued down the over-long hallway to a destination still unknown to her.
***
“One consequence of spending so much time among the Minbari is that rebirth is a much easier concept to wrap your head around,” Sinclair said.
Susan was still trying to wrap her head around the room in which she was sitting. A bunch of reclined, metal-framed chairs surrounded her; from the way they all interfaced to a central hub in the middle of the room, she felt certain this is where she would eventually re-enter the system. The fact that Oz lay in one of them, his eyes closed, but his brainwave patterns projected for anyone that wanted to look, only provided bonus confirmation.
“Are we speaking about your rebirth?” Susan asked Sinclair.
“In a manner of speaking. You see, I’m only part of the Minbari cycle.”
“Is this a cycle that exists in or out of the machine?”
“We’re fairly certain that the Minbari believed in the rebirth of souls long before their integration into the machine. All I know is that their pre-existing worldview helped them accept what I’m about to tell you in a way that is not common for humans.”
“Jeff, you’ve convinced me that the world I grew up in is a construct. Getting me to believe that you’re a reborn soul shouldn’t be that much of a challenge anymore.”
“I’m not the problem.” He shifted back to lean against one of the reclining chairs, and for the first time Susan noticed the extra grey that peppered his hair out here, away from the machine. His eyes looked more tired than she remembered, too. In fact, the only thing that made her absolutely sure that man in front of her could not be an impostor was the unnatural aura of calm he projected. She’d never understood how he managed that.
“Am I the problem?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her directly. “In the last battle with the Shadows, I - or at least some version of me - was the leader of the Minbari. But I was hardly the most important player in that conflict. You see-”
“Wait,” Susan said. “That battle would have happened before the Earth-Minbari war. Wasn’t that war what got us into this mess in the first place?”
“We’ve been in the machine a lot longer than ten years, Susan.” He paused as she steadied herself. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew that.”
“I did,” she murmured. “I guess I just hadn’t processed it.”
“It’s a lot, I know. Do you need a minute?”
“No. Go on.”
“The AIs wanted to write themselves into our history, so that they could act without the need for constant secrecy. But they decided to re-evolve us in a way that would allow us to keep most of the preconceptions we had in our old ‘real’ world--they wanted to make sure we would accept their reality.”
“But they hadn’t counted on disagreeing on what to do with us.”
“Yes. You see. Almost immediately after the Great Machine went live, the AIs began fighting. This led to a war between the Vorlons and the Shadows; a war in which those of us who were aware - mostly Minbari - sided with the Vorlons.”
“We lost?”
His laughter was bitter. “It goes down in Minbari history as a win. The Vorlons helped them, protected them enough that they managed to establish and maintain a base outside the machine. What’s left out of that version of history is that we almost managed to escape the machine entirely. You see, there was another leader besides me. A human who had been born able to access the source code of the system. We call this human the One. We think the One even had the power to modify it, though that’s strictly conjecture.”
“Wasn’t there an attempt made?”
“It never got that far. In order to modify the source code, you have to access the Core. It’s the central processing unit for the entire machine.”
“Why don’t the Vorlons just access it and get us the hell out?”
“Because they don’t have access. Neither of the creators of our prison can enter it. If either a Shadow or a Vorlon enters the Core, they will be wiped from the system. It means they can’t access the source directly, they can only modify the edges. The Core was created that way on purpose, back when the system was built, to be unmodifiable by either side’s AI. It was supposed to promote unity within the system.”
Susan was starting to get excited. “But the consequence is that if a human - or a Minbari - is able to understand and use the source code, they can go into the Core and instigate a re-program of the system.” She paused. “Why are we not locked out again?”
“We’re their power source. I think they were worried about some type of power instability if we were completely cut off. I’m also not sure it occurred to them that we would ever be the type of threat that required a lock-out.”
“So, why didn’t the human get the job done?”
“Whatever your capabilities, if you die before you enter the Core...” Sinclair shook his head. “The Shadows recognized what were trying to do and surrounded all the access points. We never even made it inside.”
“But now you think this person - this One - has been reborn.”
“Yes.”
Susan Ivanova wasn’t slow. She realized he had been telling her all this for a reason. She’d recognized the fact that she had been receiving a lot of odd looks and even odder comments since she’d escaped from Babylon 5. But the conclusion she had to draw from everyone’s behavior still didn’t make any more sense. “And you think I’m the One?”
A voice spoke from behind her. “Well, apparently it’s either you or me. I hope you don’t mind if my vote is for you--I feel I might be missing a necessary genetic link.”
For what she hoped would be the last time in a long time, Susan could identify the mystery speaker based off voice alone.
“Sheridan,” she said, turning. She felt no surprise when a glimpse of her Captain’s face proved her correct.
***
“Call me John, Susan,” Sheridan said. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, all of it outside the chain of command.”
Susan had put off thinking about the results of her escape. Mostly because she already knew the outcome. “I don’t have my post anymore, do I?”
“There’s a lot going on right now, so it’s not official--but that’s the only plausible outcome of your escape. At the very least, Bester’s reported you as a rogue telepath to Earthforce.”
“My greatest fear.” Susan shook her head. “It all seems rather inconsequential right now.”
“We must finish this quickly,” Sinclair said. “John needs to get back to Babylon 5.”
“They don’t know you’re unplugged?” Susan asked John.
“No. And Kosh doesn’t want anyone to suspect, so my visits out here are brief by necessity.”
“So Kosh thinks you’re this One?” At his nod, she turned back to Sinclair. “If a Vorlon believes he’s our guy, why are we even having this conversation?”
“The Oracle thinks otherwise,” John said.
“Correction,” Sinclair said. “The Oracle is unsure.”
Susan wanted to ask a hundred questions about the identity of an entity who’s opinion could trump a Vorlon’s, but settled for simply questioning the uncertainty. “What happened? Did some stars get crossed?”
“No, telepaths got introduced,” John said. “You got introduced.”
“The introduction of telepaths resulted in certain unexpected instabilities in the system,” Sinclair said. “They apparently even affected Oracle, a program which should have been immune to modifications. No one was surprised when Oracle’s prophecy about the One’s return coincided with the beginning of the Earth-Minbari war--the same war that had caused the system’s initial creation. The same war we were pre-destined to have again from the moment we were plugged in to the machine. However, when the Oracle couldn’t identify our target at the war’s conclusion...”
“Hey, if there’s been any evolution at all,” John said. “Susan’s it.”
“I’m assuming you say that because of my telepathy,” she said. “But if you’re looking for a telepath, it’s not like I’m a great pick. I’m only a P1.”
“Your classification hardly defines who you are,” Sinclair said. “But either way: my job is to find and train the One. So, for the time being, my job is to train both of you. I will not be your only instructor, of course. John has Kosh, who is teaching him system interface in way I will never understand.” He turned to Susan. “Kosh has expressed an interest in training you, eventually. But both he and I thought you should begin with human telepaths, as you’re capable of their type of interface. Once you’ve gone as deep as they can take you, training with a Vorlon can only get easier.”
“I’m not going to say I understand,” Susan said. “But let’s start this anyways.”
***
Sinclair walked over to the central hub as John helped her get set up in one of the metal chairs. It was cold and wretchedly uncomfortable; she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would feel once she was hooked in.
“Do you have an alias?” she asked John, trying to distract herself.
“No, I didn’t have one when I was pulled out, and Kosh told me not to create one. ‘For the future,’ he said.”
“I envy you.”
“I actually envy you. The reason why everyone on this crew is so insistent on using their aliases is that they are names separate from the system. Names they created in defiance of the machine. I would like to have that.”
“My mother gave me this name,” Susan said; but for the first time, she found herself relating a bit more to the crew’s refusal to call her by her own preferred name. Even if they were being wrong-headed - what were they fighting for, if not for the right to name themselves? - she could understand the need for defiance.
Although, she found herself still wondering if that explanation truly fit. If they wanted to distance themselves from the names bestowed upon them in the machine, then why did so many of them have aliases that were so close to those very names? The telepaths in particular-
“I understand,” John said. “But for them, your alias is further proof that-”
“We should be ready to fight,” Sinclair interrupted. “And in that vein, do either of you mind if Monk comes in here to help me with the tech?”
“No,” Susan said. “I suppose if we’re done discussing how special we all are, we can let others back into the clubhouse.”
“Right,” John said, laughing. “Because they weren’t having the same conversation out there. Who do you think their credits are on? You or me?”
“We do not possess credits,” Lennier said as he walked in the room. “But you are correct about the placing of wagers.”
“And?” John asked.
“I am not at liberty to discuss our different arrangements. Be assured that, whichever way this goes, we will support either of you.”
“I feel so very comforted,” Susan said. “Now, can we get this over with?”
“Give her all the basics,” Sinclair ordered Lennier. “Human martial arts. Anla’shok training. All of it.”
He moved to stand by Susan and helped ease her back into the chair until the metal implants on the side and back of her head were in line with the LED display she had been examining earlier.
“We’re about to plug you in, and download what you’re going to need to survive. To win. The connection does not always happen without pain,” Sinclair warned, holding her gaze.
“I can handle it,” she told him. She tried not to grimace as she felt the pinch of first one connection point, then two others. She felt as if her head was being pulled back, tight, into the chair. Then the pull became a push and she gasped and closed her eyes.
Only to open them a minute later in surprise. “You’re giving me the knife skills of Droshala?” she asked, breathless. It was like being recharged, an unbelievable high.
Lennier shrugged. “Although it is not always apparent, the Drazi worship surprisingly effective gods.”
Susan mentally ran through her new skill set. “Very effective.”
“The Ivanova vote of confidence,” John said. “And the best is yet to come.”
“Show me,” she ordered, closing her eyes to block out their amused smiles. She might not understand exactly who they wanted her to be - maybe even who she really was - but she knew that she wanted these skills. Knew that this fight, these people, had already become her own.
***
/Series 1
Challenge AU Big Bang Challenge (au_bigbang)
Author: lil_utterance
Artist: beccastareyes
Fandom: Babylon 5/The Matrix
Pairing: Susan Ivanova/Talia Winters
Rating: PG-13.
Warning: non-graphic violence, a few naughty words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Artwork for Chapter 3 by beccastareyes
Chapter 3: Rock is Dead
“What is all this?” Susan asked Sinclair. “I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know what’s going on-hell, I don’t even know what to call you anymore. And generally-”
“You’re one of those people who knows what’s going on around them? Yes. And you still are, really. You just don’t have all the facts.”
“I’ll say. I thought you were on Minbar.”
“You thought correctly,” Sinclair said. He gestured to his clothing, which consisted of an assortment of Minbari robes overlaid with a thick cloak. A broach lay partially hidden in the folds of the cloak, and Susan couldn’t place where she had seen the delicately wrought silver figures that framed the green-colored stone that formed its center. “Minbar is where I received this attire and my new name.”
“Valen,” Susan said flatly.
Sinclair smiled again, and nodded. “To answer your earlier question,” he said, “you may call me whatever you want.”
Susan shifted uncomfortably. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did, but his equanimity coupled with the claims he was making unnerved her. “Did you take the name for political purposes?”
“Not exactly.”
“You can’t seriously believe that you are, what? A reincarnation of their great leader? You’re not even Minbari.”
Lennier spoke then. “My people believe that when we die, our souls are reborn into the next generation of Minbari. Much to our consternation, in recent years we had noticed that some of our souls did not seem to be returning and we were made less by their loss. During the Earth-Minbari war, we appeared to discover the reason why these souls had not been discovered among our own people-they were being born into yours.”
“So you’re saying that the Minbari believe that he is actually Valen?” Susan wondered when she’d wake up from this dream-and if she could somehow trigger the process.
“Yes.”
“All of them? Even Delenn?”
“Enough of them.” He exchanged an amused look with Sinclair. “And Delenn, most certainly.”
“How did they figure this out?” Susan asked. “I mean, he lived so long ago…”
“It’s a long story, probably best shared at a later time,” Sinclair said. “We can’t stay here much longer.”
“We just wanted to ensure that you understood the connection,” Lennier said, “and convince you that he is not, as you say, having ‘delusions of grandeur’”.
“I wouldn’t mention ‘delusions’ if I were you, Monk,” Winter said. The edges of a smile gave Susan an idea of how the comment was meant to be taken.
“Hey,” Susan said, “at this point, if I am crazy, I’m just glad I’ve imagined myself some company.”
“And if it were up to your imaginings,” Warlock said, arching an eyebrow, “this is the best you could do? I suppose we should be flattered.”
“You might try supposing-”
“I said you were right about many things,” Sinclair interrupted. He caught the full force of Susan’s glare for his efforts, but it hardly seemed to bother him any more than it had back when he was her commanding officer. “You’ve sensed that the universe around you is broken in some way you can’t quite describe. You see it most clearly with the Corps-”
“But it’s not just them,” she said. “They were just the clearest sign of a telepath problem that has been ignored for too long. A problem that should be clear to anyone who even looks in that direction-”
“-and yet all the signs are being ignored?” Sinclair asked. At her nod, he continued, “It’s not the only problem that’s obvious once you’ve seen it. The Corps is just the most relevant sign for you, as it was for Winter and…others you’ll soon meet. For Monk,” he gestured towards the Minbari Susan had known for the past several years as Lennier, “it was the sudden failing of leadership - of rebirth - among the Minbari.”
“What about you?” Susan asked, turning towards Warlock.
In response to her question, he conjured a murky orb in which she could see nothing. “My tech started casting shadows,” he said as he stared into the nothing he held. It disappeared as suddenly as it had sprung into existence, leaving Susan with little more idea of what he meant than she would have had if he had said nothing at all.
“It’s all connected,” Sinclair said. “And it’s all part of the same problem you’re having-and right now you cannot see the whole story, even if we were to tell it to you.”
“I’d settle for having one or two of my questions answered with more than a request for further patience,” Susan said.
“Do you believe in fate, Susan?” Sinclair asked.
“No, I don’t. And that’s another question in response to my own, not an answer.”
“True. But I ask that you allow me a few more.” He moved towards her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you believe in me? Do you trust me?” He asked the question with the same quiet confidence he had always evidenced when he sought her opinion as her CO - and her friend - back on Babylon 5.
She looked up into his face and shook her head. “Even after all this, I’ll be damned if I still do. Though it hardly seems fair to hold it against me, Jeff.”
“I’m not holding it against you.” He smiled at her. “It will just make the process easier.” When he stepped back from her, the entire group around Susan rose as one and started walking down the corridor. “Come with us,” Sinclair said to her. “And I’ll show you the truth about the Corps and the world we live in. Come with us,” he let out a breath as she nodded, before finishing his statement, “And I’ll show you the Great Machine.”
***
“Ah! I see you brought another conductor to our little drama.” The Minbari smiled as he stepped from the metal confines of the machine that had captured Susan’s attention the moment she walked in the room. Between the great metal frame, the wires, and all the attendant beeps and hums, she wondered how she even managed to pay attention to his words at all. In any other circumstances, his deep voice, softened by genuine curiosity, would have made any situation seem less dire, but she couldn’t shake the unease that the first glimpse of the machine had awakened within her.
“Conductor?” she asked.
“The minute I plug you in,” he said, nodding towards the person-shaped opening in the machine he had just vacated, “you’ll be one. The amount of energy you’ll be channeling, well it’s-”
“No more than she can handle.” A slim, red-headed woman stepped out from behind one of the silver arms of the machine. She was dressed in the same leather get-up as Winter-pants, jacket, the whole number. Susan had to wonder about the type of organization she was considering joining; whether the outfits came standard issue or were a new trend amongst telepaths that she had missed. Having worked with more than one rebel teep group, she thought not. Generally, the rogues liked to avoid attracting attention.
“I was certainly not going to voice doubt over her abilities.” The Minbari sounded scandalized at the accusation. “I merely wanted to let her know that once plugged-in, she would experience a sudden surge in energy.”
“Whatever. It’s more accurate to say that you’re disconnecting her, anyways. I don’t know why you always feel the need to confuse the issue.” She turned to Susan. “It’s nice to finally put a person to your voice, Nova. I’m called Alex, though I’m sure you’ve already recognized my voice.”
“Been doing that a lot today,” Susan said, glancing at Winter.
“I’ll bet,” Alex replied. If she put any real sympathy behind the words, it was too subtle for Susan to be able to pick up on it.
“I know your real name too,” Susan said. “All the vids of you during your brief tenure on B5 were locked, but I managed to pull your file. You’re Lyta Alexander. You left the station after you scanned Kosh.”
“I left a lot more than Babylon 5 after I scanned a Vorlon,” Alex replied. She waved off Susan’s questioning look. “You’ll understand what I mean in a few minutes.”
“Doc’s not here?” Sinclair asked, finally breaking into the conversation.
“No, we left him back in White Star to prep for Nova’s arrival,” Alex said. “Oz thought that if there were any negative effects from the escape, she would have a harder time dealing with them unplugged.”
“Who’s Oz?” Susan asked, unnecessarily as it turned out, as the middle aged Minbari in front of her had already started to defend himself.
“She’s doing just fine. But those wounds will seem worse once we shock her system.”
“As if I’m not shocked now,” Susan said. “I never thought I’d see a Minbari named for a character in a human children’s story book.”
“I like your books about wizards! That’s the name I wanted, actually,” Oz said. “Wizard.” His tone became long-suffering. “But far be it from me, to encroach on the territory of another.”
“Your voice encroaches on my territory,” Warlock said, not even looking up from the newly-conjured orb he was studying.
“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Oz winked at Susan. “You’re seeing the men behind the curtain. We’re much more impressive when we’re done up in our machines. It’s almost…magical.”
That did make Warlock look up from his project. “We’re both charlatans, you and I. None of what we do is magic.”
“A most pessimistic point of view.”
“I would instead call it a most realistic point of view,” Lennier’s voice echoed from below the machine, and Susan started. She hadn’t even noticed him move into the crawl space. “I still don’t understand how you can remain so emotionally attached to this tech.”
“Spend a full cycle here, with my view.” Oz’s hands swept outwards, though the grandness of the gesture was somewhat ruined by the fact that all that surrounded their group and the machine was crumbling rock. “You couldn’t fail to understand.”
“I might understand how to operate it,” Lennier responded. “But as for-”
“Enough,” Sinclair said. “It’s a necessary piece of equipment, and it’s time to use it.” He nodded at Oz, who moved back over to opening in the machine and started making adjustments.
“We’ll find our stations,” Alex said to Sinclair. “Does she need a stabilizer?”
“Are you kidding?” Oz asked, his smile huge as he stepped back to survey his work. “This is going to be fun! Her brainwaves were off the charts earlier today. In all my time as gatekeeper, I have yet to see anything like it.”
“You took her for a ride didn’t you?” Alex asked Winter, as the two of them walked to adjacent terminals to the left of the machine. She took Winter’s silence as assent. “Yeah, I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist. How did she do?”
The question seemed eager - too eager - and Susan heard everyone around her inhale sharply.
“She did fine,” Winter said quietly. “Valen, I assume we are ready?”
Sinclair looked over at Susan. “Are you ready to see how far down this all goes?”
Susan found herself unable to do more than nod, but apparently he didn’t expect anything more. He didn’t lead, but walked with her over to where Oz waited. Once her integration into the machine began, he left her to give instructions to the others, all scattered at different stations throughout the room. She had no clue what any of them did, or, possibly more importantly, what any of the nodes, sensors, or clamps being put on her did either.
“Don’t worry,” Oz said when he caught sight of her frown. “The interfering signal’s been weak all day. It should be an easy transition out.”
“Out of where?” Susan asked. She wondered if something attached to her had started to pump her body full of drugs, because she suddenly felt herself at a distance from her surroundings, the effect similar to sleepiness, to dreaminess, but a whole lot more. She gasped as the world fell away from her and she found herself slipping into another bluish light-path, vaster and more far-reaching than anything she had ever conceived.
You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy,” Oz said. His voice whispered and began to fade as she slipped into the light surrounding her. “Just follow the yellow brick road.”
***
((For a long time she couldn’t do more than follow. It was more terrifying - more exhilarating - than the trip she had taken before. Here she moved so quickly that she couldn’t even experience her progress as more than the awareness that she must be moving. Else why did nothing around her ever look the same?
But then she looked up and saw the deepest of colors-the richest of tones. It spoke to her, and the sound was-
She forced herself upwards, willing the movement, willing her progress, even when it seemed her skeleton would rip from her skin. The path around her concussed, and for a moment her existence inverted, her consciousness tied up in the power surrounding her, her body a separate entity.
“A normal human mind should not be able to do this.” She heard the words, felt them throughout the whole of her existence, before a force shoved her back inside her body. Too tired, too removed, to struggle any longer, she let the path carry her forwards. As she moved towards its destination, everything around her started to fade.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able to do this.
The single thought she could hold amidst a light cloud of fading blue.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able to do this.
A normal human mind shouldn’t be able-
A normal human mind-
Susan Ivanova’s universe went black.))
***
When she opened her eyes, the world seemed a blurry, new-made thing. As her vision cleared, she realized she was being carried across a bridge…and the ground was really, really far below them. She forced herself to take in the view; though she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to accept what surrounded her. Some type of ancient ruins had been built into the walls that edged the chasm the bridge crossed-and wedged every which way into the remnants of a forgotten civilization were cryo-storage units.
And she was pretty sure they were full. Which meant that unconscious people numbering somewhere in the millions surrounded her; and if the number of cords which snaked out of the units were any indication, they were not being left to rest peacefully.
Movement across the chasm caught her attention, and she realized that elevators moved up and down between the units. She watched as one slowed, then paused. A moment later one of the units went dark, and then something fell, silently, into the pit below them.
She felt a hand brushing her cheek and looked up into Jeff’s sorrowful gaze.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice an almost inaudible rasp.
“Welcome to the real world, old friend.” His smile seemed to her as ancient as the ruins surrounding them. “Sleep now,” he said. “We’ll talk after you’ve been acclimated.”
***
They stood side-by-side, staring down at the unconscious figure on the table in front of them. It had become a routine for them-meeting here once a day for the last week. Usually, they didn’t speak; but today, the day before she was scheduled to be awakened, conversation seemed unavoidable.
“Did you learn anything about her, while you were in her mind?”
“I tried not to look around too much.”
“You spent at least an hour in there, on the shuttle.”
“Fine,” she said, after a lengthy pause. “But basic information only, alright?
“I’d hardly expect you to betray any of your confidences.”
“She performed a path exercise without being unplugged.”
“Difficult, but not unheard of. You did the same.”
“Jason Ironheart was far more connected than I will ever be. He helped me. He showed me the way.”
“Ironheart was powerful, and losing him was the greatest setback our team has ever endured. But don’t underestimate your connection.”
“I don’t. I just understand the limits of my abilities.”
“I know you do. Thus, you should recognize that I was referring to more than your interface with the tech.”
“Just as you should realize that, great leader or no, I will free-fall you the next time we plug in together if this conversation continues much longer.”
“Then I shall look forward to having the chance to successfully evade your attack.”
Winter eyed him, then laughed. “Are you ever going to wake up from that dream, Valen?”
He looked up from his contemplation of the woman lying on the table. “You can hardly blame me from holding onto the impossible,” he said, and walked away before Winter could respond.
***
The moment Susan woke up, she tried to get out of bed. Her first glance around the room had allowed her to believe herself alone, but the minute she knocked over a tray of instruments she was quickly disabused of that first impression of solitude.
“Easy now,” a voice said, as warm, brown hands covered her own. She caught a glimpse of a green lab coat in front of her, and guessed the speaker to be some type of doctor. However, she kept looking at their hands rather than looking upwards to confirm; the healthiness of his skin tone contrasted so markedly with her own. When had her hands grown so pasty and wasted? She found herself distracted enough by the sight to allow him to help her back into bed without protesting.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, finally looking up at him. “When will I be able to get up and move around?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, exactly,” he said. “You’ve just never used those muscles before. I’ve accelerated the growth, but I would recommend you not push your luck.” He smiled at her, a smile that reached his eyes. “In other words: take it easy for a few days.”
She wanted to argue with him, she really did; obeying doctors’ orders had always struck her as a general waste of time. But after only a few seconds of standing her legs had turned to jelly-not to the mention the fact that ever since she’d taken that first step out of bed her whole body had been quivering worse than newly-made flarn. She decided it might be better for her health to satisfy her curiosity in a manner that did not involve movement.
For now.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Out there or in here?”
Susan glanced towards the door. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes, though not in the way you’re thinking.” He took in her puzzled frown and sighed. “My handle is Doc-you can start there.”
Mr. Garibaldi would have a field day, she thought. What’s up, Doc? But thinking of Garibaldi, of Zack and what had happened, was too painful to voice; so she limited herself to continuing with the polite introductions. “Nice to meet you.” Her hand skimmed across her neck and shoulder as she realized something else. “And thank you for healing my wounds.”
“Just doing my job.” He sat down in a chair beside her bed, his gaze accessing. “What do you want me call you?”
“You’re not just going to call me ‘Nova’ like everyone else?”
“No. I understand that some of us had stronger ties to our old lives than others. I’ll call you whatever you want to be called.”
“It would be better for her if she adapted quickly,” Sinclair said, joining their conversation as he walked in the door. “And taking on a different identity will help with the process.”
Susan discovered she had finally reached her limit on the censored and the cryptic. She turned back to the doctor. “Call me Susan,” she told him firmly.
“Well, then it’s nice to meet you, Susan.” He pretended not to notice Sinclair’s disapproving look as he gathered some of the print-outs strewn across the room. “I’ll leave you two to your conversation.” His voice turned hard as he addressed Sinclair. “Mind you don’t strain her though-being unplugged is bad enough without being mangled first.”
“That mangling, as you put it, saved her life.”
“Oh, I know that Lock did the best he could, and she’s strong, but there are limits as to how much regeneration can occur at once. If you don’t want to put her right back in a coma, give it a day or two before beginning training.”
“Oh, I think I can promise that much,” Sinclair said lightly. “It will take me that long to explain all of this to her satisfaction.” He looked over at Susan. “Would you like me to begin?”
At her nod, the Doc walked out of the room, and Sinclair began to relate to her what seemed like more nightmare - more story - than her own new reality.
***
Susan sat alone in the small quarters they had provided for her. Doc had okayed the move, as long as she didn’t make it on her own, after she had told him that she would prefer to have some privacy to process all her newly acquired information.
So, this was the real world. The real universe. This post-apocalyptic cliché.
She ran a hand through the spiky-fuzz that comprised her hair. When asked, Doc had said that he was doing his best to accelerate its growth, but her other systems still required aid-and functionality always came before form. She understood; in fact, she couldn’t wait for whatever training they had planned so that she could once again have control over herself and her movements. All she knew for certain was that she felt glad that the black jumpsuit they had given her covered most of her body. It helped her forget.
Too bad the metal wall behind her, cold against her back, did not. White Star. A pretty name for a clunky ship that constituted her new home. Although she had to admit, she didn’t know if she would ever consider herself to have a home again.
“So the Earth-Minbari war never happened?” Susan asked Sinclair. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Not at all. It just didn’t happen the way you and I have been taught to believe.”
“Did one side actually win?”
“I suppose you could say there was a winning side. It just wasn’t either of the races that started the conflict.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And I apologize in advance for having to take that from you.”
Before her earlier conversation with Sinclair, if asked, Susan would have said that she always preferred knowledge rather than ignorance. That she always preferred the truth.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“The Minbari were stronger than us,” Sinclair said. “They still are. You know it, and it’s a fact that stays true whether you’re in there or out here. So we decided to use technology to overcome them.”
“But isn’t their technology more advanced than ours too?”
“It should have been. But we’d recently acquired a new type of AI.”
“Acquired from where?”
“I don’t know. Over the years, we’ve pieced together most of the events from our fall, but no one’s been able to discover the origin of our tech.”
“Considering I just escaped from a machine and the universe it created, I can guess what happened next,” Susan said. “Did the AI even engage with the Minbari before it subsumed us?”
“It wasn’t just our AI that did this,” Sinclair said. “The Minbari doomed themselves to the same fate. You see, when their system detected our AI’s hack, they responded with one of their own. Then it became a war of the machines-we were all of us organics cut out of the loop.”
“Whose AI won?”
“Neither. And that is our greatest hope.”
“Our greatest hope is that they keep battling, with us caught in the middle? You told me the machine is using human bodies as a power source.”
“No, our greatest hope is that we can help the Minbari tech, Vortex, to help annihilate our tech. You see, Shadowtech is the AI platform that chose to enslave us all. Vortex tried to stop it; they are still trying to stop it. Vortex wants to co-exist with organics, not dominate them. We’re working with it to try and bring down the system.”
“How are we working with it?”
Sinclair’s communicator beeped. “I’m going to have to take this-we’ll finish tomorrow. But as to your last question…you’ve heard of the Ancient Ones, yes?”
“Yes. G’Kar used to talk about them. Something about ‘giants in a playground’. It never made much sense to me.”
“Well, that’s what the AI poses as in our simulated reality. They battle there as two ancient races. Their names correspond to the tech they evolved from. There are the Shadows, who you’ve probably never seen,” he held her gaze, “and then there is the other race.”
“The Vorlons,” Susan said, stunned. “Kosh.”
“Exactly,” he said. “But enough today. We’ll talk about telepaths - and the Corps - tomorrow.”
She thumped her head back against the wall. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Sinclair hadn’t provided her with a reason for her particular removal from the system. The way everyone she passed here kept looking at her, going silent around her-something was up.
Her door beeped.
“Enter,” she said without thinking. She then remembered that access to quarters in this ship required manual confirmation. Slowly and more stiffly than she would have preferred, she moved to the keypad by the door.
Winter stood outside. “I brought you some dinner,” she said, holding up the tray. When Susan made no move to take it, Winter moved forwards a step or two. “May I come inside?”
Without a word, Susan stepped back to let her pass.
“Would you like it here?” Winter asked. She stood beside the desk; it and the cot made up the entirety of the furnishings in the room.
“Sure.” Susan considered Winter closely as she put down the tray. “Is there enough in there to share?” she asked, ignoring the surprised look she received in response.
“If you’re not very hungry.”
“I’m not.”
They pulled the cot up to the desk and sat side-by-side on it, as if it were a bench. Susan knew she should eat, even if she didn’t feel hungry, but the removal of the tray cover in no way helped her appetite.
“What am I looking at?” she asked.
“The grey blocks are cut from the bricks of nutrient paste we always have on hand. It never goes bad, and it’s surprisingly easy to manufacture. I can’t vouch for the taste, but at least it does its job. Eat this for a week, and your muscles will thank you.” Winter pointed to the small, red fruit. “And this is a rare treat. A couple months ago we found a small world the Minbari had once colonized-it had escaped the worst of the bombing. We took a few cuttings of some berry vines. Monk’s been able to successfully transplant them to our small hydroponics garden. What you see here is from our first crop.”
“I see.” She studied the food a minute longer. “Thanks for explaining.”
“No problem. Still want to share?”
Susan nodded, and the two of them began eating. Two paste blocks were all Susan could manage before nausea crept in. She leaned over and put her head between her knees. Hopefully, deep breaths would be enough to prevent vomiting; she knew she couldn’t afford to lose calories right now.
She felt a tentative hand on her back. When she didn’t protest, it started rubbing slow circles right below her neck.
“The first week is always the worst,” Winter said quietly.
“It’s all just words right now,” Susan said. She couldn’t believe how much easier it was to be honest when she had an excuse not to meet the other woman’s eyes. “Even with this place, this food-I need something to make it real.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Try to stop me from entering your mind.”
Susan did look up then. She also got up off the cot and moved across the room. “Why is your first response to every situation to try and jump into my mind? You know that even with my mental blocks up, I can’t…” Her eyes widened. “What…I…” She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them again, she was fighting overwhelming confusion. It was as close to feeling pure panic as she had come since reaching this place. “I don’t have mental blocks. I can’t even feel you.”
“It’s alright, Nova. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“What did you do to me? Even for you, this type of invasion should be completely beyond acceptable.”
“I didn’t do anything. Like you, I can’t do anything. We’re not telepathic out here.”
“What?” Susan whispered. “You mean what we are, what we do, it’s all part of the machine?”
“I…” Winter looked away. “I shouldn’t say anymore. Valen usually goes over all this with new recruits.”
Susan wrapped her arms around herself and glared at her. “Explain it to me. Now.”
“Look, I really am sorry,” Winter began awkwardly, “but I shouldn’t-”
“Winter, I just woke up to a new reality. I’ve been shot at, ripped up, mentally invaded. My body’s weaker than it’s been at any time since I went through puberty. I’m eating paste to survive, and almost no one on this damned ship will call me by my real name.” She moved back over to where Winter sat and sank back down onto the cot. “And all of that, I could handle. But now you tell me I’ve lost part of my mind too.”
“I thought you didn’t even like that part.”
“It wasn’t my favorite part, but it was part of my identity. A part I received from my mother.”
Winter sighed. “You’re sort of right about that last part. It is genetic. It’s just not…”
“What?”
“We’re anomalies. Anomalies created by the Vorlons.”
“The Vorlons engineered telepaths?”
“Yes. They changed us. Made us able to better interface with the tech. We can go deeper than the normal human. Plugged in, we can jump from mind to mind. Unplug us, and we’re even stronger.”
“I thought we couldn’t do anything out here.”
“Right, pardon the terminology. Confusing as hell, I know. I mean, once we’ve been unplugged-so we know when we’re plugged back in. An unplugged telepath who is re-introduced to the system can become a teek, among other things. We’re able to exert a lot of control over our environment.”
“That’s why stable telekinetics are so rare then, generally? Only the unplugged are eligible for long-term admission?”
“Pretty much. Trying to force that type of connection on the unaware tends to interfere with their projected reality. It makes them unstable. The Shadows have tried-used the Corps for experiments. So far they’ve had very little success.”
Susan smiled grimly. “The Shadows are responsible for the Corps? Seems appropriate.”
“Doesn’t it? Most of us telepaths sense it at some level. The darkness. The wrongness. Or at least we do as long as we don’t progress too far into the Organization.
“What do they do with us?”
“Now? The Shadows recruit us. Used to be they’d hunt us down. They didn’t approve of organics having any kind of control over their tech, even if it was unconscious. We could disrupt their signals, etc, etc. However, once they realized how much they could make the rest of humanity hate us, they decided to make use of us. Today they use us as bases for some of their mobile platforms.”
Susan processed the new information for a minute. “We…hack…for them?” she finally tried.
“Sort of. You and I, we’ve always been able to read minds.” Winter waved away Susan’s objections. “We’ll talk about your psi-level later. When we re-introduce you, after some training you should be able to jump from mind-to-mind and observe what others are seeing. If you’re really good, you should be able to travel with multiple minds at once.” At Susan’s dubious look, Winter shrugged. “You’ll see. We refer to it as going ‘mind’s eye’. It’s pretty powerful stuff. But a Psi-Cop - a telepath who’s been interfaced with a Shadow - they can not only dominate the minds of others, control them-they can literally take over the other person. They become them; the other consciousness is gone. And since we self-actualize, their form usually goes right along with the rest of them.”
“Are they even human anymore? The Psi-Cops, I mean.”
“Hard to say. Best we can tell, they’re more code than anything else. So much Shadowtech has been injected into their minds, there’s not room for much else. Certainly not emotions.”
“We were in danger, when we were fleeing,” Susan said. “That’s why you had us focus our minds on that rhyme.”
“Yes. They tried to D&D us-that’s how we refer to their download and deletion protocol. Our focusing like that, it’s a sort of firewall. It blocks the signal.”
“But why would they bother to put that Keeper on me, if they were just going to delete me? Would they have used my shell to get close to Sinclair?”
“They would have tried, though they might have been in for a surprise.” Winter’s voice turned hard, “If they had managed to get into your mind, they probably wouldn’t have deleted you. But that would have only been worse. Trust me on that. Whatever you are, you wouldn’t have been ready to handle them.”
Susan knew she must be gaping, but she couldn’t help herself. This was closest anybody had come to telling her straight-out the reason for her presence here. “And what do you think I am?”
Winter shook her head. “No. I’ve already said more than I should. You want the rest, you talk to Valen tomorrow. This is his area of expertise.”
“Fine,” Susan said, her temper flaring. “I’d hate to put anyone else off their schedule.”
Winter gathered up the tray without a word and stalked towards the door. She punched the keypad and took a few steps forward, then hesitated. She glanced over shoulder. “What do I think you are, really? I think you’re a good addition to the team. That’s all I know right now, and that’s all I need to know.”
***
“You do not customarily bring new recruits food,” a voice said as Winter walked down the corridor outside Nova’s room. “Is it because she might be different?”
Winter turned. “It’s not really any of your business, but let’s just say that I was there when her Keeper was removed, so I know it was not the gentlest of processes.”
“You are aware that giving her special treatment will not help her integrate faster, yes?”
“Monk, I’m tired. Is there some deeper point you’re trying to make?”
“You’ve been different since you talked to the Oracle. I know it is a…personal…experience, but I just wondered if you would mind-”
“I would mind.” Winter rubbed her bare hands together. Even out here, she still sometimes felt self-conscious about her lack of gloves. “And you should know that.”
Monk inclined his head. “I am sorry if my question offended.”
“You didn’t offend me, Monk. I don’t think you’re capable of offending me. Remember, I was part of the Corps.”
“That was your old life. You are allowed to have higher expectations now.”
“I would, but I hate being disappointed.” She frowned and looked down the corridor. “And speaking of disappointment, aren’t you keeping Pike waiting? I know he was looking forward to spending the evening with you.”
“He told you that?”
“It’s Pike. He told the whole room. I just happened to be there.”
“I will go then,” Monk said. The corners of his mouth hinted at an upward turn, and Winter found herself giving him a smile in response.
“Enjoy your evening,” she said, watching him as he hurried down the hall.
***
The next morning Susan wasn’t prepared for what she encountered when she stepped outside her quarters. She hadn’t even had the energy to ask about her neighbors when Doc had dropped her off last night, but apparently today was the day for her education. In the doorway across from hers stood Alex. Although, perhaps ‘stood’ was not the appropriate verb considering the fact that one of her legs was wrapped around Warlock’s waist. The two of them were so involved in each other, they didn’t even notice Susan walk past; Susan tried to return the favor and ignore them, though Alex’s low laughter and the warning beep of their door made it a harder task than she would have liked.
She had just made it to the end of the corridor, and was wondering whether or not she would be able to find the mess hall on her own, when Winter appeared.
“Morning, Nova,” she said. “I’m here to lead you down for breakfast.”
“You got here just in time,” Susan said. “A couple minutes later and I would have embarked on the full tour. You might not have found me until dinner.”
“If then. The layout of this place isn’t particularly transparent. It’s supposed to be a safeguard, if we’re ever boarded. The machines expect logic-the idea is that inconsistency slows them down. Personally, I think it just makes it harder to run things around here.”
Susan surprised herself by laughing. “Logic from the woman who thought the best plan of escape from Babylon 5 was a motorcycle chase?”
“That’s me. Human inconsistency at it’s finest.”
“You’re a true resistance fighter, then?”
“Ranger,” Winter said. “We’re called Rangers. It’s a long story, I’ll-”
“-tell me later,” Susan finished. “How utterly unsurprising.”
They entered one of the tubes that moved between decks and stood together silently as they dropped several levels.
“How are you doing?” Winter finally asked as they stepped out of the tube into a darkly lit corridor.
“Physically, fine. As for the rest…I still don’t know. Is there anything else I should know about the crew? I got quite a surprise when I stepped out of my quarters this morning. It made me wonder what else I might not know about.”
“You mean Alex and Lock? Yeah, they’re not always the most discreet.”
“I didn’t even know they were a couple.”
“They’re not, really. They just spend the night together sometimes.” Winter paused, then continued, her voice thoughtful. “The best I can tell, he lost someone he really cared for right before he came to us. Occasionally, when we’re inside the system he let’s his barriers slip, and I’ve seen-”
“I don’t want to hear any information obtained that way!” Susan said. “Just tell me what any member of the crew who had been here a couple months would know.”
“I was only going to say that I’ve seen her face. He’s already told all of us that he joined our group to find the Shadow agent responsible for Isabelle’s death and kill him. The rest doesn’t take much of an intuitive leap.” She put a hand on Susan’s arm and stopped her. “I don’t betray people’s confidences,” she said, not letting go until Susan nodded.
“Anything else I should know about?”
“Well, you already know Valen. Doc’s a great guy, a trained xenobiologist. He knows everything about everything and doesn’t mind questions. Oz pretty much stays inside the machine, so you won’t be interacting with him much on the ship.”
“Sounds like he pulled a hard duty.”
“He volunteered to be gatekeeper. He’s not afraid of the tech-I think he enjoys the connection. Not being a telepath, it’s the best he’s ever going to get without betraying us and going over to the other side.” She laughed at the look on Susan’s face. “Joke, Nova. Since you made one a minute ago, I thought you’d recognize it. My mistake.”
Susan chose not to dignify the remark with a response. “Anything else I should know?”
Winter sighed. “The only other crew members are Monk, who you know, and Pike, who you don’t. They’re sort of...seeing each other. I mean, according to Pike, they definitely are. Monk’s more reticent, but I don’t think he’d mind me talking about it.”
“And that’s everyone?”
“That’s everyone who’s here right now.”
“You realize I can see that dodge from a lightyear away?”
“I thought I’d make it easy on you, what with you just recently being separated from your telepathic abilities.”
“Be honest with me,” Susan said, turning to hold Winter’s gaze. “Will you ever answer my questions without hedging, or is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my time here?”
Winter stopped walking; when she spoke in response, her voice was steady. “As soon as I begin your training, you can ask me any question you want, and I’ll respond as honestly as I’m able. I can’t guarantee that my knowledge is complete, but I won’t hold anything back.” She held herself still, open to Susan’s assessment of her. “No more dodges.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Susan offered her a small smile. “Though I hardly needed more reasons to want to move past the talking and into the training.”
“Yeah, we’ll see what you say after a few path-runs. You might decide the bribery wasn’t so bad after all.”
***
The mess hall wasn’t so different from what Susan was used to--at least if she didn’t look at the food too closely.
“I know it’s terrible, isn’t it?” She turned to find a man sitting down to her left. He had dark hair about the length her own had been before her transition, dark eyes, and a winning smile. She guessed he pretty well knew the effect of that smile.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“I’m assuming your glum face is over what’s on your plate. I might not get real food much,” he said, helping himself to a few blocks of paste, “but what little I’ve had tells me that most of it is better than this.”
“How is it that you’ve had so little experience with food?”
“Nova, meet Pike.” Winter said. “He’s natural born.” She handed Susan a cup of water and sat across from them. “One of the happy few conceived outside the machine.”
Susan found she didn’t know quite what to say. “Congratulations?” she tried. Now that she looked at him, she realized that when he moved his head she didn’t see the distinctive gleams of metal that indicated a tech interface. “I hadn’t even thought to wonder...” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I hadn’t realized people had been outside the machine long enough to...”
“Apparently, it doesn’t take very long,” he informed her. “But yes, it’s true.” He tilted his head to one side and flashed her another smile. “I’m a real boy.” His expression sobered. “Though it’s not as exciting as you think.”
“Yes, not having to undergo the disconnect process must be torture,” Winter said.
At Susan’s baleful look, he held up his hands. “Wait, yes, it’s true. I’ve never had to deal with the tech. Which means,” he stabbed another grey cube with his fork and lifted it for their inspection, “I’ve never had the chance to eat many decent meals. I’ve never gotten to walk around on Earth-not even a fake one. And I’ve never gotten to see one of the Ancient Ones.” He eyed his fork thoughtfully. “You know, sometimes I think I would trade it all in for a glimpse of a Vorlon-”
“Don’t even finish that thought,” Doc said as he walked into the room. “There are few enough of us as it is, without you surrendering yourself back into the machines.”
“You know he speaks only in jest,” Lennier said, joining their table. “You’re simply worried about losing your favorite research subject.”
“Monk!” Pike turned to Susan. “Isn’t it sweet, the way he defends my honor?”
“I-” Susan found herself briefly distracted as Alex and Warlock entered the room several paces apart from each other, as though they hadn’t spent the morning together. “I suppose so?”
“Hey,” Doc said. “I’ve done the same tests and blood-work on Pike as I’ve done on everyone else. The only difference in his treatment are the extra scanning procedures he allows me to perform. How else am I ever going to see a non-wired human brain?”
“He did scans twice last week alone,” Pike informed the group. He glanced over at Lennier, his face studiously innocent. “Monk, I know how you always talk about the Minbari having a higher, purer, form of love, but I have to tell you,” he gestured towards the doctor, “this man loves me solely for my mind.”
“For who could resist such a temptation?” Warlock asked sarcastically.
Pike nudged Susan. “Now who’s got a case of Pikal envy?”
Alex laughed. “As if he’d ever have cause to be envious.” She shared an amused look with Winter, and Susan knew that if they’d been in the system right now, the two of them would be trading a series of thoughts that didn’t bear repeating.
“Oh, are we talking about our relationships now?” Pike asked. “In that case-”
“It’s probably time we moved on to more noteworthy topics,” Sinclair finished for him. He stood outside the doorway and made no move to enter the room. “Are you ready?” he asked Susan.
“Yes,” she said, immediately moving to join him. She wanted this over with.
“Winter, be on call,” Sinclair said. “We’ll need you later. You too, Alex.”
The two telepaths looked at each other. “We hadn’t expected any less,” Winter finally said. “You’ll let us know...”
“I will,” he said firmly. He waited until he and Susan were part-way down the hallway before speaking again. “I’d like to thank you, Susan, for your patience. This has been a very trying time; it’s taken longer than usual to give you all the information you need to know.”
“Winter told me the truth about my telepathy last night,” Susan said, hoping that he wouldn’t make an issue of it.
“Good,” he said. “That will save us a lot of time today.”
How much more can he possibly have to say? Susan wondered as they continued down the over-long hallway to a destination still unknown to her.
***
“One consequence of spending so much time among the Minbari is that rebirth is a much easier concept to wrap your head around,” Sinclair said.
Susan was still trying to wrap her head around the room in which she was sitting. A bunch of reclined, metal-framed chairs surrounded her; from the way they all interfaced to a central hub in the middle of the room, she felt certain this is where she would eventually re-enter the system. The fact that Oz lay in one of them, his eyes closed, but his brainwave patterns projected for anyone that wanted to look, only provided bonus confirmation.
“Are we speaking about your rebirth?” Susan asked Sinclair.
“In a manner of speaking. You see, I’m only part of the Minbari cycle.”
“Is this a cycle that exists in or out of the machine?”
“We’re fairly certain that the Minbari believed in the rebirth of souls long before their integration into the machine. All I know is that their pre-existing worldview helped them accept what I’m about to tell you in a way that is not common for humans.”
“Jeff, you’ve convinced me that the world I grew up in is a construct. Getting me to believe that you’re a reborn soul shouldn’t be that much of a challenge anymore.”
“I’m not the problem.” He shifted back to lean against one of the reclining chairs, and for the first time Susan noticed the extra grey that peppered his hair out here, away from the machine. His eyes looked more tired than she remembered, too. In fact, the only thing that made her absolutely sure that man in front of her could not be an impostor was the unnatural aura of calm he projected. She’d never understood how he managed that.
“Am I the problem?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her directly. “In the last battle with the Shadows, I - or at least some version of me - was the leader of the Minbari. But I was hardly the most important player in that conflict. You see-”
“Wait,” Susan said. “That battle would have happened before the Earth-Minbari war. Wasn’t that war what got us into this mess in the first place?”
“We’ve been in the machine a lot longer than ten years, Susan.” He paused as she steadied herself. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew that.”
“I did,” she murmured. “I guess I just hadn’t processed it.”
“It’s a lot, I know. Do you need a minute?”
“No. Go on.”
“The AIs wanted to write themselves into our history, so that they could act without the need for constant secrecy. But they decided to re-evolve us in a way that would allow us to keep most of the preconceptions we had in our old ‘real’ world--they wanted to make sure we would accept their reality.”
“But they hadn’t counted on disagreeing on what to do with us.”
“Yes. You see. Almost immediately after the Great Machine went live, the AIs began fighting. This led to a war between the Vorlons and the Shadows; a war in which those of us who were aware - mostly Minbari - sided with the Vorlons.”
“We lost?”
His laughter was bitter. “It goes down in Minbari history as a win. The Vorlons helped them, protected them enough that they managed to establish and maintain a base outside the machine. What’s left out of that version of history is that we almost managed to escape the machine entirely. You see, there was another leader besides me. A human who had been born able to access the source code of the system. We call this human the One. We think the One even had the power to modify it, though that’s strictly conjecture.”
“Wasn’t there an attempt made?”
“It never got that far. In order to modify the source code, you have to access the Core. It’s the central processing unit for the entire machine.”
“Why don’t the Vorlons just access it and get us the hell out?”
“Because they don’t have access. Neither of the creators of our prison can enter it. If either a Shadow or a Vorlon enters the Core, they will be wiped from the system. It means they can’t access the source directly, they can only modify the edges. The Core was created that way on purpose, back when the system was built, to be unmodifiable by either side’s AI. It was supposed to promote unity within the system.”
Susan was starting to get excited. “But the consequence is that if a human - or a Minbari - is able to understand and use the source code, they can go into the Core and instigate a re-program of the system.” She paused. “Why are we not locked out again?”
“We’re their power source. I think they were worried about some type of power instability if we were completely cut off. I’m also not sure it occurred to them that we would ever be the type of threat that required a lock-out.”
“So, why didn’t the human get the job done?”
“Whatever your capabilities, if you die before you enter the Core...” Sinclair shook his head. “The Shadows recognized what were trying to do and surrounded all the access points. We never even made it inside.”
“But now you think this person - this One - has been reborn.”
“Yes.”
Susan Ivanova wasn’t slow. She realized he had been telling her all this for a reason. She’d recognized the fact that she had been receiving a lot of odd looks and even odder comments since she’d escaped from Babylon 5. But the conclusion she had to draw from everyone’s behavior still didn’t make any more sense. “And you think I’m the One?”
A voice spoke from behind her. “Well, apparently it’s either you or me. I hope you don’t mind if my vote is for you--I feel I might be missing a necessary genetic link.”
For what she hoped would be the last time in a long time, Susan could identify the mystery speaker based off voice alone.
“Sheridan,” she said, turning. She felt no surprise when a glimpse of her Captain’s face proved her correct.
***
“Call me John, Susan,” Sheridan said. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, all of it outside the chain of command.”
Susan had put off thinking about the results of her escape. Mostly because she already knew the outcome. “I don’t have my post anymore, do I?”
“There’s a lot going on right now, so it’s not official--but that’s the only plausible outcome of your escape. At the very least, Bester’s reported you as a rogue telepath to Earthforce.”
“My greatest fear.” Susan shook her head. “It all seems rather inconsequential right now.”
“We must finish this quickly,” Sinclair said. “John needs to get back to Babylon 5.”
“They don’t know you’re unplugged?” Susan asked John.
“No. And Kosh doesn’t want anyone to suspect, so my visits out here are brief by necessity.”
“So Kosh thinks you’re this One?” At his nod, she turned back to Sinclair. “If a Vorlon believes he’s our guy, why are we even having this conversation?”
“The Oracle thinks otherwise,” John said.
“Correction,” Sinclair said. “The Oracle is unsure.”
Susan wanted to ask a hundred questions about the identity of an entity who’s opinion could trump a Vorlon’s, but settled for simply questioning the uncertainty. “What happened? Did some stars get crossed?”
“No, telepaths got introduced,” John said. “You got introduced.”
“The introduction of telepaths resulted in certain unexpected instabilities in the system,” Sinclair said. “They apparently even affected Oracle, a program which should have been immune to modifications. No one was surprised when Oracle’s prophecy about the One’s return coincided with the beginning of the Earth-Minbari war--the same war that had caused the system’s initial creation. The same war we were pre-destined to have again from the moment we were plugged in to the machine. However, when the Oracle couldn’t identify our target at the war’s conclusion...”
“Hey, if there’s been any evolution at all,” John said. “Susan’s it.”
“I’m assuming you say that because of my telepathy,” she said. “But if you’re looking for a telepath, it’s not like I’m a great pick. I’m only a P1.”
“Your classification hardly defines who you are,” Sinclair said. “But either way: my job is to find and train the One. So, for the time being, my job is to train both of you. I will not be your only instructor, of course. John has Kosh, who is teaching him system interface in way I will never understand.” He turned to Susan. “Kosh has expressed an interest in training you, eventually. But both he and I thought you should begin with human telepaths, as you’re capable of their type of interface. Once you’ve gone as deep as they can take you, training with a Vorlon can only get easier.”
“I’m not going to say I understand,” Susan said. “But let’s start this anyways.”
***
Sinclair walked over to the central hub as John helped her get set up in one of the metal chairs. It was cold and wretchedly uncomfortable; she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would feel once she was hooked in.
“Do you have an alias?” she asked John, trying to distract herself.
“No, I didn’t have one when I was pulled out, and Kosh told me not to create one. ‘For the future,’ he said.”
“I envy you.”
“I actually envy you. The reason why everyone on this crew is so insistent on using their aliases is that they are names separate from the system. Names they created in defiance of the machine. I would like to have that.”
“My mother gave me this name,” Susan said; but for the first time, she found herself relating a bit more to the crew’s refusal to call her by her own preferred name. Even if they were being wrong-headed - what were they fighting for, if not for the right to name themselves? - she could understand the need for defiance.
Although, she found herself still wondering if that explanation truly fit. If they wanted to distance themselves from the names bestowed upon them in the machine, then why did so many of them have aliases that were so close to those very names? The telepaths in particular-
“I understand,” John said. “But for them, your alias is further proof that-”
“We should be ready to fight,” Sinclair interrupted. “And in that vein, do either of you mind if Monk comes in here to help me with the tech?”
“No,” Susan said. “I suppose if we’re done discussing how special we all are, we can let others back into the clubhouse.”
“Right,” John said, laughing. “Because they weren’t having the same conversation out there. Who do you think their credits are on? You or me?”
“We do not possess credits,” Lennier said as he walked in the room. “But you are correct about the placing of wagers.”
“And?” John asked.
“I am not at liberty to discuss our different arrangements. Be assured that, whichever way this goes, we will support either of you.”
“I feel so very comforted,” Susan said. “Now, can we get this over with?”
“Give her all the basics,” Sinclair ordered Lennier. “Human martial arts. Anla’shok training. All of it.”
He moved to stand by Susan and helped ease her back into the chair until the metal implants on the side and back of her head were in line with the LED display she had been examining earlier.
“We’re about to plug you in, and download what you’re going to need to survive. To win. The connection does not always happen without pain,” Sinclair warned, holding her gaze.
“I can handle it,” she told him. She tried not to grimace as she felt the pinch of first one connection point, then two others. She felt as if her head was being pulled back, tight, into the chair. Then the pull became a push and she gasped and closed her eyes.
Only to open them a minute later in surprise. “You’re giving me the knife skills of Droshala?” she asked, breathless. It was like being recharged, an unbelievable high.
Lennier shrugged. “Although it is not always apparent, the Drazi worship surprisingly effective gods.”
Susan mentally ran through her new skill set. “Very effective.”
“The Ivanova vote of confidence,” John said. “And the best is yet to come.”
“Show me,” she ordered, closing her eyes to block out their amused smiles. She might not understand exactly who they wanted her to be - maybe even who she really was - but she knew that she wanted these skills. Knew that this fight, these people, had already become her own.
***
/Series 1