Sisters Under The Skin, part 7: Three's a Crowd (NEW, B5, 7/14)
Hey, we're here! The new part! Everything changed last chapter, and yet our threesome's lives are still all messed up. A replay of one of my favorite scenes from Apotheosis, introduction of one of my favorite recurring characters, and yet more angst! Who could want anything more?
Sisters Under The Skin
Part Seven: Three's a Crowd
Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.
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The bedside light began issuing a soft glow indicating that it was morning. Shipboard or station, people living in artificial environments always established a cycle wherein the day began with light. Anna heard soft scuffling coming from the living area. John must already be up. He had insisted she remain in his quarters and that she take the bedroom while he slept on the couch. And that's where he slept, that is when he didn't just bunk down in his office. Anna sighed; she'd offered to stay in guest quarters, but had been firmly, even curtly, rebuffed. She hadn't actually been alone with her husband except for a few minutes in the mornings. He worked late into the night, arriving home after she had put out the light. Sometimes she wondered if he monitored the lights, timing his arrival so he didn't have to interact with her. As for the mornings; he was often gone by the time she awoke, the only evidence of his presence a used glass in the sink.
Hastening into her robe, she paused at the door, taking a deep breath and opening them wide. "Good morning," she said, heading towards the kitchen. John gave her a gruff 'hello' and a brief pained smile before returning his attention to the tablet he was holding. Glancing over his shoulder as she walked past, Anna could see lists scrolling by; ships and personnel and supplies, all the accouterments of war. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a hesitant sip. Leaning forward on her elbows she looked at her husband while gripping the glass. Beads of condensation rolled down its cool surface, and she thought she could see sweat beading on John's forehead as well. This was hard on him, she knew that. It was hard on her too.
She set down her own glass and poured a second, crossing the room and setting it before him on the low wide table in front of the couch. That comfortable piece of furniture was littered with papers and data crystal holders, schematics of various ship types, and a digital clipboard with an agenda that crowded one meeting after another into the mere 24 hours allotted to the day.
"You want some breakfast?" she finally asked the silence that emanated from her husband of ten years.
"Had it already," came the brusque reply from John, softened by the added, "But thank you."
Anna went back to the kitchen and fetched her own glass, returning to the couch and sitting down beside him. "Don't tell me you've been out to work already. Or is it that you never came home in the first place?" Looking closely at his lean hard face, the close-cropped hair just beginning to soften with length, she thought she looked at a stranger.
John looked back, his eyes wary. "I try to walk around the station some every day, looking around, talking to people. People still don't believe I'm back, that I'm real. It's good for morale to fly the flag a little."
Anna smiled. "I know how that feels...the unreal part." She leaned towards him, placing one hand lightly on his knee. "Sometimes, in my worst nightmares, I can almost remember what they did. What it felt like. And then I panic, wondering if I'm actually still there, trapped in one of those ships. If this is the dream..." She shuddered, and gripped his knee without thinking, seeking both comfort and connection.
John hesitated, then laid his large hand over hers, covering it completely but stopping short of taking hold of it. He finally patted her hand awkwardly, before removing his own. "I know," he said quietly.
She shifted slightly closer, reluctant to leave the momentary warmth that had flickered between them. "So what happened on your walk today?" she said, keeping her tone light.
John shook his head. "There's more than a little panic out there. The situation is becoming critical...between the refugees arriving and the inhabitants fleeing, it's crowded and tense in the public areas. A woman almost got trampled today."
"What happened?" asked Anna in concern.
"She's okay," replied John. He shifted uneasily. "The people out there, on the station...they're all relying on me." His voice was strained as he said, still looking straight ahead. "I didn't ask for this, for any of this."
Anna thought rebelliously for one short moment, neither did I. But it wasn't the fate of one anonymous woman in a crowd bothering John. It was the weight of all those anonymous people looking to him for assistance, and for answers. Putting aside personal issues, she reassured him. "You may not have asked, but you answered the call when it came." Moving her hand to his shoulder, she added, "It's what you do." She wished she could risk an embrace, but there was so much standing between them.
The door chimed, and Ivanova's voice came through the door-com requesting entrance. John called out "Open" and the door slid up and over to reveal the Commander, crisply standing at attention, every movement tightly controlled. Anna thought even Ivanova's hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, was restricted to on-duty mode. "You wanted to go over the current state of station supplies, Captain?" Turning her attention to Anna, Susan nodded in greeting, briefly acknowledging her presence, "Mrs. Sheridan."
"I'll just go in and get dressed," Anna said. "Only be a minute" she declared as she pulled the doors shut behind her. Throwing on grey slacks and a soft pine-green sweater, she tugged on her shoes, balancing on one foot as a time, as she walked past Ivanova, who was watching her closely with a guarded expression. "I have an appointment with Dr. Franklin this morning," she explained. "Good-bye, John," she said, but their moment of connection had passed, and he was back in the new world he'd made here; one in which she had no part.
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Anna knew the way to MedLab pretty well by now, and she reached the open doorway some fifteen minutes before her appointment. Dr. Franklin was examining a compact, muscular man seated on a table. He had thinning hair above a set of piercing blue eyes, light eyes with a darkness behind them that was almost palpable. Anna felt suddenly sick, like the floor was crawling beneath her. It reminded her of the first time she'd gone up in space, the lurching sensation of leaving gravity and the world behind. Unsteady, she put one hand up against the cool glass wall separating her from Stephen and his patient. The man's eyes fixed on her, studying her as if memorizing her features for future reference, pinning her down like an unknown species of insect. The snap of Stephen's glove brought her back to herself.
The man was joking with Stephen now, as he got up and pulled on a loose silk shirt patterned with neutral squares of beige and grey. He left the surgery lost in thought, passing Anna without a word. She shook her head and entered the examination room. Stephen finished tapping out his notes on the tablet he held, and smiled at her. "How are you feeling today?" he asked.
Anna shrugged. "The headaches are almost gone, appetite's good, aside from some god awful dreams I sleep well...how much detail do you want?" She jumped up on the examination table, then tilted her head towards the door. "Who was that? The man who just left?"
"That's our Chief of Security, Michael Garibaldi," replied Stephen. "And a personal friend. He's had it rough the last few weeks. Disappeared during the battle, went through something traumatic that he can't even remember, and was almost killed by raiders before we got him back."
Anna looked thoughtful. "I had the oddest feeling looking at him," she began. Stephen regarded her curiously, but she plowed on. "Was it a head injury? Is that why he can't remember?"
"There's no physical evidence of trauma," Stephen admitted. "He just can't remember." He was running a data recorder over her body, pausing only to touch the screen and examine the output closely.
"Has Lyta had a look at him?" asked Anna, remembering her own examinations at the hands, or mind, of the telepath.
Stephen's face closed down. "Mental exams are entirely voluntary unless ordered by the court."
Anna shrugged, "Those are the rules. But they are often honored in the breach." Keeping her voice steady with effort, she said. "As you well know." When Stephen started to protest, she raised one hand to forestall his explanations. "I understand why you did what you did. I agree with it, and you obtained as much consent as you could. But honestly, everyone knows some private companies require psi screens either at the point of hiring, or periodically during the contract term. And the military has dabbled, as I'm sure you're aware."
"I am. Though I don't agree with the emergency protocols as it happens. And since we are technically no longer part of EarthForce, I don't have to implement them." Stephen punched at the tablet, closing her file and leaving the screen blank. "I don't see any reason for you to keep checking in with me at this point." He smiled at her, "Clean bill of health." He cocked his head at her glum expression. "What, do you want a certificate?"
"Maybe," she said. Raising one hand and rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do next. There's so much going on, and I'm catching up, but I don't know where I fit any more."
Stephen shook his head. "There's a lot of that going around. No one knows what's going to happen at this point. All we can do is what we can do."
"Easy for you to say," retorted Anna. "No one even knows I'm alive. I'm shocked my identicard still worked!"
"EarthGov bureaucracy. You have to love it." Stephen considered the problem. "I guess you can't just call up your old employer and say 'Hey I'm back, put me to work.'"
"Not now," said Anna heavily. "Maybe not ever. Besides, this station is off limits to Earth corporations. I still have some contacts in EarthGov, but I don't think a post there is likely either."
"No," admitted Stephen. "You should talk to Garibaldi. He can find out what's going on with your identicard and your records, maybe even get some news about people you knew."
"Okay," said Anna doubtfully. "It's a start, in any case." She slid off the table, and walked towards the entrance to the medical facility. In the open doorway she almost collided with her husband, who was entering with the impatient stride of a man with too many things to do. "Hello," she said, startled by his presence.
"Uh, hello," came his less-than-enthusiastic response. John looked at Stephen and asked abruptly, "Do you have the results of the scans?" Stephen nodded and started to speak, when John cut him off. "Let's discuss this privately, shall we?"
Stephen gestured towards an inner room, and when John headed that way without another word, Stephen shrugged at Anna with a smile, saying "Excuse us," and followed John.
Anna stood in the doorway, considering John's demeanor and his question. Whose scans did he want to see? Mr. Garibaldi's? Hers? He'd seen all those already, except for today's. For a moment she wondered whether Dr. Franklin was keeping something from her. He wasn't, she decided. The good doctor was not a man made for conspiracy. No, there was something going on with John himself, and it was something he didn't want anyone else to know. After a pang of regret for the past, when John had confided everything in her, Anna left MedLab determined to do something, anything, to jump-start her new life. She had to have a life of her own before she could even begin to return to sharing a life with her husband.
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For all her new-found resolution, Anna found it hard to know where to start. She tried to track down Mr. Garibaldi, to discuss the issue of her identicard with him, but the infuriating man was always one step ahead of her. She finally resorted to leaving a message in his quarters, requesting a meeting the following day, at his convenience.
She didn't want to go back to her...John's...their...quarters, so she ended up in what passed for a library on the station. Since there were comstations in everyone's quarters and also in most open areas, she didn't need the reading room for access, but rather for the quiet company of other searchers which let her sink more easily into research mode. She started with the main journals in her field, beginning with the last articles she remembered reading and steadily progressing through updates and new data and analyses. After several hours, she leaned back in the not-very-comfortable chair and rubbed her eyes.
There were lots of fascinating advances, but nothing ground-breaking. There had been hints of some interesting activity on Mars, again, starting a couple of years before she'd shipped out on the Icarus. She hadn't been part of IPX at that time, but she had heard rumors. But then there were always rumors of something being found on Mars. Anna had often put it down to the Martian's feelings of inferiority; they had relatively little anthropological history. As a colony world, they were always looking to distinguish themselves from Earth, like unruly adolescents seeking to break away from their parents. On behalf of the scientific arm of the Earth Alliance, Anna had traveled extensively, and explored ancient civilizations dead long before Earth had cooled. She could look at time with a geological eye at this point. For a moment she regretted how little she remembered of her time among the Shadows on Z'ha'dum. Only for a moment, then she shuddered violently. The back of her neck went chill and a burning focused on the base of her spine, radiated upwards till heat met cold in a burst of pain. She didn't want to remember, not really. Still, she mused, what a research paper she could have written.
Looking about the room, she noted with surprise the presence of a cowled monk at one of the other monitors. While she watched, two more monks entered the room. One was an older man, with a bald crown, twinkling eyes wreathed in wrinkles, and a rounded grey-and-white beard. The monk who accompanied him took the seated monk's place. After a brief conference, the two now standing prepared to leave the room, when the older monk caught sight of Anna. He gestured the other man to go ahead, and placing his hands within the wide sleeves of his habit, approached Anna.
"Dr. Sheridan, isn't it?" he asked, inclining his head in greeting. "I am Brother Theo. Might I have a word with you?" He glanced around the room at the silent readers. "In private, if you like. The chapel is just around the corner, and generally empty this time of day. More's the pity," he remarked to himself.
Anna was nonplussed, but then, she needed a break, so why not? "All right," she said. After entering in the command to save the open files under her password for later retrieval back in her quarters, she picked up the tablet on which she'd been downloading abstracts and making notes, and stood. "Let's go..." tilting her head in question, she added, "Is it Father? Or Brother?"
"Theo is fine," he replied. "We don't stand on formality too much out here." He indicated the path ahead with a broad sweep of his arm, and she walked ahead of him as far as the doorway. Once outside the reading room, Theo turned left, and led the way down the corridor. It was only a few doors down that he stopped and waved his hand in front of the keypad. "It's always left open, but you still have to make the gesture. I suppose it's recording somewhere who entered and when. It probably makes Mr. Garibaldi happy. But God's house is never kept locked."
Once inside, Anna had to let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. There were electric candles at the front of the room, set in tiers of glass holders on both sides of a low table, with a white silk runner across it, and hanging down both sides. A simple wooden cross hung on the wall behind the table. There were a few chairs along the walls, but the main seating took the form of dull blue steel benches forming two sets of four rows each. Theo guided her to a set of chairs near the front, along the wall but tucked away in the bulge of a slight alcove. "Have a seat," he said. "I can have tea or water brought in, if you like."
"No, I'm fine," replied Anna, sitting down on the folding chair which boasted a thin amount of padding. "Can you tell me why you wanted to speak with me?" she finally asked.
The monk was silent for a moment. He looked at her intently. "I rather thought you might need someone to talk to." He gave a dry laugh. "Part of the job description, you know."
Anna smiled. The monk's friendly curiosity seemed untinged by any doubt as to her motives or identity. It was refreshing. "It's all too Enoch Arden, isn't it?" she said ruefully. "And with all that's going on, it's not the right time to stop and figure things out."
The monk smiled gently back at her. "It's exactly the right time, because it has happened. You returned now for a reason, although I do not know that reason. I do know that the Captain and Delenn have built something here, something that's never been seen before. They will need to work together in the upcoming struggle."
"I know that," Anna snapped. "But however inconvenient it is, I'm here, and I'm still John's wife."
"And what God has joined together?" quoted Theo gently. "I understand. And sympathize, with the situation you find yourself in. I trust the three of you will find a solution that brings you peace. "
"But that doesn't help now, not with the war, does it?" Anna leaned forward, pressing the palms of her hands against her forehead. "John married me after the Earth-Minbari war, did you know that? We used to joke about all the weddings after the war ended. Everyone on Earth thought the human race was done for; and afterward there was this rush to affirm life."
"Yes," replied Theo. "There were a number of new entries into our order at that time. We like to think of our vocation as life-affirming as well."
Anna looked up and nodded, long-ago memories lighting her face with a smile. That smile faded as she examined the monk's kind face. "Still leaves us with quite a problem. Will they be able to do their jobs, to work together, with me in the picture?"
"Oh, yes," replied Theo. "They are driven individuals, and committed to this cause. Their relationship grew slowly, paralleling the growth of mutual trust and understanding between them. I believe they were both taken by surprise by their feelings for one another. But regardless of what happens to that emotional bond, the trust and understanding remain, and will support them through this trial." He cocked his head and examined her closely. "I don't have any answers, I merely wished to offer my support to you...to all of you."
Anna sat silent for a moment, almost undone by the monk's kindness. "Thank you," she said, barely managing to force out the words. "I, I have to go now," she added abruptly, standing up so quickly she almost overturned the chair. Flustered, she righted the chair and added in confusion, "Good-bye, Father, Brother....I mean, Theo. It was nice to meet you."
"God go with you," said Theo. He remained seated, watching her rapid, clumsy retreat.
Anna didn't slow down until she was three or four corridor turns away from the chapel and reading room. She'd entered an area beyond the public ones just off the Zocalo, and it took her a moment to get her bearings. Retracing her steps, she found a turbo-lift that would take her back to the staff quarters. It was growing late, around dinner time, but she wasn't hungry. John would almost certainly still be working. That was for the best, as far as she was concerned. She needed to spend some time thinking about what the monk had said, and what was best for John and Delenn, and for herself, as well as all the people who were relying on the leaders of the Army of Light.
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Anna was still lost in thought when she entered her quarters, and almost didn't see John settled on the couch. He was in civvies for once, slacks and a v-neck sweater that clung to his broad shoulders. She immediately turned off the carnal thoughts that flooded her mind.
"Hello," he said, voice even and cool. "How was your day?"
"All right," she replied, walking over to the kitchen. There was a bottle of red wine in a holder on the counter. She gestured towards it. "Do you mind?"
John shook his head. "No, go ahead." When she took down two glasses, he added, "None for me, thanks."
Anna looked at him in surprise. "You're off duty, right? Why not share a glass with me?" She slapped down every memory of relaxing evenings and red wine and what they often led to. She had located the opener and deftly pulled the synthetic cork from the top of the bottle. Laying it aside, she poured herself an inch or so of the ruby liquid. After a moment, she added another couple of inches. What the hell.
"I met someone today." Swirling the wine in her glass, she inhaled the aroma of fruit and sunshine. "Friend of yours, I think."
"Oh yes?" replied John absently. His eyes were focused on the silenced monitor hanging on the wall, half-watching the crawl of ever-bad news scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
"Theo, his name was," she went on doggedly trying to get him to engage in conversation. "I liked him."
John almost smiled. "Mean chess player."
"I don't doubt it," replied Anna, taking a sip. "This is good stuff." When she received no response, she carefully set down her glass and took a deep breath. Time to beard the lion. Prior to this nightmare, she would have laughed at the idea that she would ever be this nervous, or have this much trouble, starting a conversation with John. He was so easy to talk to; that was one of the things that had attracted her to him. He listened to people. He liked people. "John," she began, but just then the door chimed.
"I'll get it," said John, hurrying towards the opening. He hit the control pad with undue force, and the door snicked open to reveal Delenn, her face white with some sublimated tension. Anna winced at the expression on John's face. He looked like a man dying of thirst who had just spied a faraway oasis.
Delenn smiled tautly at John and then nodded to Anna with a slightly more genuine smile. Anna returned the welcome and picked up her glass again. "Can I get you something?" she asked, then wondered if she should even be acting as hostess. Hell, there wasn't an etiquette book in forty worlds that covered this situation. Anna rebelliously took a deep gulp of her wine.
Delenn shook her head, then turned her attention back to John. "I would like to speak with you, Captain," she began formally. John's face was briefly pained, then turned stony, and Anna wanted to shake him. Delenn turned to her, "I wish to speak with you as well." Anna had been wondering whether to retire to the bedroom or leave entirely; Delenn's inclusion left her speechless and motionless.
Delenn took a deep breath. Just as she began to speak, Ivanova appeared on the muted monitor behind John's head, and he held up one hand and commanded the comstation to "Increase volume." Together, they all three listened to the litany of worlds destroyed and peoples scattered and killed. Anna felt sick. This had to stop, had to be stopped. And the two people with the best chance of that were standing in front of her, not talking to each other.
John was staring at Ivanova. "She's afraid. I've known Ivanova for ten years, and I've never known her afraid before." He looked back and forth from Ivanova's tense face to Delenn's, as if comparing the emotions written on them. Gently, he spoke directly to Delenn. "I haven't seen you except in conference and the War Room, not since I got back."
Delenn stood with her back to the door, as if she were being held at bay. Anna thought if the other woman was any more tense she would snap. She noted with professional eyes that Delenn held her hands at her side, palm open in the traditional Minbari gesture of supplication and appeal.
"I came to apologize. To you, Anna, because I chose to believe that you were either dead or suborned by the arguments of the Shadows. I should have told John that you might be alive. I should have known from John's description of you that you would never submit." She pursed her lips together tightly, and swallowed what seemed like a bitter draught. "And John," her voice lingered ever so slightly on the name, "I should have trusted you with the information to make your own choice regarding your...wife."
"You did what you thought was right," John's voice was hoarse with emotion, and a muscle jumped in his cheek. He made an abortive motion towards Delenn, but stopped when she stepped back, away from him. His hands were at his sides as well, but clenched into fists, knuckles showing white bone through the skin.
Anna sighed, wondering how in the world to diffuse the tension. "We already discussed this, Delenn, before John returned," she said, carefully feeling out the words that would reassure and calm. "I forgave you then, if there was ever anything to forgive. John is right, you did what you thought you had to."
"That is no excuse," replied Delenn stiffly. Directing her next words to John, she said softly, "I thought I had lost you, when you went away. But I lost you before that, when I denied you a choice." She turned her face away, as if in shame. "They say that Minbari never lie, except to save another. I hid the truth from you. To save you? Perhaps. But at what price? Many lives will be lost in this conflict, but no more at my hands, not like this. If we are to continue as comrades in the battle, let there be only truth between us."
John moved quickly towards Delenn, taking hold of her arms just above the elbows. Anna thought he meant to shake her, rattle some admission out of her. But he just stared at her, for a long moment, then rasped out, "Here is the truth for you then. I love you. I will always love you, and I forgive you, and I understand what you did. We will fight this war with truth, but it won't be a clean war. No war ever is. And afterward, if we survive?" He firmly moved her away from the door. "If we survive," he repeated again, "everything can go to Hell." Heading for the door, calling out 'Open' loudly, he stopped and looked back at Anna. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. It's not that I don't love you too. I just don't have time to figure it all out." Then he was gone.
Delenn and Anna both stood looking after him in silence.
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The next morning Anna slept in. She turned off the alarm and put a pillow over her head when she heard John's movements. After Delenn's apology the previous evening she didn't want to talk to John or Delenn or anyone. Sleep was preferable to another day of waiting for something to happen.
She woke just after 1100, checked for a non-existent message from Security, and then decided to go out to lunch. Lunch was another way to waste some time, and besides, she'd slept through breakfast. John had loaded up her identicard with credits. When Anna had protested, he had pointed out that he had inherited their savings, as well as the cash from a substantial life insurance policy taken out by her employer. The ensuing discussion over whether that money should be returned had briefly resurrected her memory of a shared life. It was painful...painful and frustrating. She was caught in between her old life and a new one that wouldn't take shape. It couldn't, not with things the way they were. So the way things were had to change, she reminded herself.
After lunch, Anna checked the location of the main Security office on the nearest com. Someone there could direct her to Mr. Garibaldi. As she approached the door, a tall man in a green uniform and brown vest collided with her.
"Sorry, Miz Sheridan," he said, grasping her elbows and making sure she had regained her balance.
Anna recognized him from the garden. He had been kind, and called..."Mr. Allan, isn't it? I was looking for Mr. Garibaldi. Do you know where I can find him?"
Zack jerked his head back towards the door of Security. "He's in there. But not for long. One of our guys ended up in MedLab after the dust up with the Vorlon ambassador and the Chief'll be heading back over there to check on him." He ducked his head awkwardly. "I have to go myself. I want to check on Lyta Alexander."
"Lyta!" exclaimed Anna. "Was she involved? She works for the Ambassador, doesn't she?" Then, with growing alarm, "Is she all right?"
"She's okay," replied Zack with a half smile. "Lyta's tougher than she looks."
Anna nodded, and touched Zack's arm. "Tell her I said hello, all right? And that I'll check on her later."
Zack mumbled assent and reached over to thumb open the door for Anna. "I'll tell her," he said. "You take care," he called after Anna as she entered the room.
It was dimly lit, full of monitors showing major areas of interest. Mr. Garibaldi sat behind a half-circle of desk, facing partly away from Anna, towards the monitors. The screens ratcheted through various scenes, like a moving montage of station life. The flickering light played across the stoic, almost sullen features of the Security chief. Anna shivered. There was something odd about the way his eyes flitted from one screen to another. They were pale blue ice, the puffy lids above and shadows beneath indicating a persistent lack of sleep. Yet the gleam of obvious intelligence showed he didn't miss a thing.
"Mrs. Sheridan," he said without looking away from the screens. "What can I do for you?"
Something in Anna rebelled at his tone of subtle insolence. "It's Dr. Sheridan actually," she said stiffly. Then, realizing she was the one in need of a favor, she pointed at the chair in front of the console and asked politely. "May I sit?"
"Of course," he replied, then swiveled to face her directly. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"
Anna hesitated, she couldn't place the feeling of eerie familiarity that crept up the back of her neck. After an awkward pause, the words rushed out. "Dr. Franklin thought you might be able to help me..."
"Help you how?" Garibaldi's words shot back at her.
"It's this," she pulled her identicard out of her front jacket pocket. "Why wasn't this decommissioned when I was declared dead? Why does it still work?"
Garibaldi reached over to take the card from her hand, turning it over and over in close examination. "Good question," he said. "Looks like standard issue." Turning to the comscreen set in the console he tapped a few points on the screen, the slid the card in a slot on the side. "Perfectly normal. All the data is clear, up until a few years ago, then there's...nothing, just a gap. Then it shows your arrival on the station." He hit a few more buttons on the screen and a folder popped up with her name and face in the upper right hand corner.
Anna stared at the small screen. "That's my IPX personnel file!"
The man almost cracked an ironic smile. "Is it?" Flipping the pages of the file onscreen with a finger, he scanned it quickly. "Nothing after your appointment to the Icarus team. Just...blank." His face looked haunted, shadows gathering on the side away from the bright screens. Turning to look at her directly, he said, "Part of the job, Doctor. I'm responsible for the security of everyone on this station, including the officers. It pays to know their backgrounds." He observed her carefully. "You know there's a precedent for this issue with your card."
"Mr. Morden," replied Anna grimly. "I heard he made it back too."
Garibaldi returned to his screen. "I'll just check the other people listed on the manifest of the Icarus." After a few more moments, his eyebrows slid up to what used to be his hairline. "All the others are listed as deceased, and their cards have been inactivated." Turning his piercing gaze back at her, he stated the obvious. "It's just you and Morden then. And the one thing you have in common is the Shadows."
"They must have arranged this," said Anna, turning white. "Do they have agents on Earth?"
"Possible," replied Garibaldi. "Or they're really good at hacking into our computers." Taking one last look at her card, he handed it back. "I checked it out, there are no tracers on it. Of course if they're inside the system, they can follow you any time you use it. But you might as well use it." Turning back to his screens, he added, as in in afterthought. "After all, they already know you're here."
Anna thanked him and fled as quickly as she could. Outside in the corridor, she paused and rubbed the back of her neck. Mr. Garibaldi, chief of station Security, gave her the creeps.
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"Lyta?" Anna had asked the com to connect her with the telepath's quarters. The monitor showed a barren room, devoid of furniture or furnishings, and Lyta sitting cross-legged on a bare mattress. Her eyes were bruised; large, dark pupils almost filling the iris. She looked exhausted.
"Are you all right?" continued Anna, wondering if she should go over there. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," responded Lyta with a small smile. "It was quite a show though, while it lasted. How's Captain Sheridan? When he went down..."
Anna's face froze. "Went down?" she said faintly. "John was hurt?"
"No, no," replied Lyta quickly. "At least, I don't think so. He walked out under his own power. He was with Delenn and Lorien."
"What happened exactly?" Anna asked urgently. Lyta looked away from her, down towards her hands which lay open on her knees in a parody of Delenn's appeal for forgiveness.
"We killed him. The Vorlon is dead. And what was left of Kosh is...gone." Desolation had carved deep furrows along her mouth.
Anna almost reached through the screen. "I'm so sorry." Shaking her head, she tried to think through the wave of helplessness that rushed through her. "Can I do anything? Help in any way?"
"Thank you," Lyta said, warmth returning to her voice. "No, I just need some time to think about what's happened, and what I'm going to do next."
Anna smiled in commiseration. "Okay. Let me know if you need anything, all right?"
Lyta returned a wavery smile, and nodded. "Thanks." Then she cut the connection.
Anna sat back in the stool by the kitchen bar. She'd almost fallen forward, as she'd leaned towards the screen in her sympathy with the distraught telepath. Before she had a chance to process what Lyta had said, the door chimed as it opened to admit John, walking, albeit a little unsteadily, along with the tall alien he had named Lorien.
She ran to him. "John! What happened? I spoke to Lyta and..."
John interrupted her. "Everything's fine, Anna." He looked from her to Lorien, then at the door. Fixing his gaze on Anna, he said, "I need you to leave now."
She was getting used to the feeling of shock and disorientation where John was concerned. "What? Why?" was all she managed to say, wondering whether hurt or rage sounded louder in her voice.
John sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Anna. You didn't deserve that. You haven't deserved any of this." The door chimed, and opened to reveal Delenn standing in the doorway. Anna thought she looked even more fearful than she had the previous night. What on Earth had happened out there? She looked back at John.
All she got in answer was a gentle request edged with pain.
"Anna. Please."
She couldn't do anything against the force of this appeal. She left, holding her dignity close like a shield around her. She heard Delenn begin to protest, but let the door close on the words.
************************
Anna wandered the Zocalo for a while, letting her anger and fear wind down. She would give John and Delenn time to deal with whatever personal matter they were discussing--with Lorien of all people. And it was personal, dammit, not professional. She was sure of that. Anna found she could hardly breathe, it hurt so much that John was sharing whatever it was with Delenn, and not with her.
Earlier in the week she had spotted a vendor selling some interesting artifacts, but they seemed to have closed up or moved. Walking on, she mused on what was happening; the strain on Delenn's face had been obvious, as had John's. Had John's injuries been worse than Lyta had thought? Pausing to look mindlessly at a display of what passed for fashion these days, she saw her pale face reflected in the thick glass. Her identity had been stripped from her. Wife, worker, scientist, friend; what was left anymore? Resuming her drifting through the crowds, she figured she should wait about an hour before returning to her quarters. And they would be gone; both of them, and the enigmatic alien, all three caught up in meetings and work and war preparations; nothing that involved her. She missed her discussions of the war effort with Delenn, listening and commenting on the strategies and plans. It seemed a million years ago.
************************
Delenn was wandering the Zocalo when Anna spotted her. Taking a moment to observe her friend, Anna was shocked at the change that had come over her. When she saw Delenn stumble blindly up against a cart, Anna walked quickly over and took her by the arm.
"Hey," Anna said, quickly steering Delenn towards a table standing outside a nearby cafe. Waving away the waiter, she turned her chair to shield Delenn from the bystanders wandering by, allowing the Minbari to regain her composure. "Sit down for a minute," she said. "Are you all right?" Seeing the shuttered look that fell over the other woman's face, she swiftly added, "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. Just relax."
Anna turned and gestured the hovering waiter closer. "Tea," she said firmly. Then she added, "I don't care what kind. Bring two cups, and something to eat, something sweet." As the man retreated, she addressed Delenn. "Sugar's good for shock, and it certainly looks as if you've had one."
"I am fine," said Delenn faintly. The waiter returned with a tall pot of steaming tea, two cups, and a platter of small pastries which he arranged on the table, beating a retreat under Anna's sternly dismissive gaze.
"You will be fine, you mean." Anna poured them both a cup of tea, and pushed the platter towards Delenn. "Eat something."
Delenn took a sip of the tea, cradling the cup in her hands. The color returned to her cheeks, and a faint smile brought the light back to her eyes. "This is very kind of you."
"It's what friends do," said Anna firmly. She watched carefully as Delenn regained her usual aura of calm. "You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?"
"I cannot," replied Delenn. "It is not my secret to tell." A look of deep sadness crossed her face. "If I were free to speak, be assured that you are the first person I would confide in." Delenn carefully set down the teacup, her hands shaking slightly. She laid them flat on the table, as if willing them to be still.
Anna impulsively reached out and took Delenn's hands in her own. The tight grip she received in return almost made her gasp with pain.
"You are my friend, and I wish..." tears glistened in Delenn's eyes momentarily then disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. "I wish things were different." Releasing Anna's hands after a moment, Delenn rose from the table. "Thank you for the tea," she said, and left the restaurant, her back straight and her gait steady.
"I wish things were different too," Anna murmured.
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