Read To Dream in the City of Sorrows Online

Authors: Babylon 5

Tags: #Babylon 5 (Television Program), #Extraterrestrial Beings, #Space Opera, #Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #American, #SciFi, #General

To Dream in the City of Sorrows (13 page)

“Unless he is asked a direct question by a participant,” said Jenimer pleasantly. “This is not an obscure rule, Neroon, but one used all the time in the council meetings of the Caste Elders, as you well know.”

“But certainly that does not apply to an offworlder!”

“It is not written anywhere that the rules of assembly apply only to Minbari.” Jenimer turned his head slightly toward Sinclair and gestured him forward with his right hand. “Ambassador, you are granted time to respond to the Elder’s question.”

Had Jenimer been waiting for an opportunity such as this, hoping Neroon would slip and direct comments his way, planning all along to have Sinclair speak? Or had the Minbari leader decided that they were losing the battle anyway, so he might as well try a desperate gamble that Sinclair might be able to convince a roomful of Minbari that their great warrior Neroon was wrong, and he, a Human and their former enemy, was right.

Neroon backed away, hiding his scowl in his obeisance, but did not sit down; instead he watched from in front of the Caste Elder’s section as Sinclair walked slowly to the center of the circle, gathering his thoughts.

Sinclair directed his attention to the Caste Elders. There was no need to give any attention to the Grey Council as they would probably vote again as they had before – the three members of the religious caste and one member of the worker caste would vote for Jenimer’s position, and the three members of the military caste and the other two members of the worker caste would vote against.

“If I may,” said Sinclair at last, speaking slowly and deliberately in warrior-caste Minbari, the dialect he knew best. He had no way of knowing how many in the hall could speak fluent English. “I would like to start by agreeing with Alyt Neroon on at least one thing: the attempt on the life of the Chosen One was indeed an outrage, and I share his anger at those who were involved. But,” he said, switching momentarily to the religious-caste dialect, “I was not among their contemptible number, as the Chosen One himself has so graciously discerned and decreed.”

He paused, and was gratified to see his attempt at their languages had the desired positive effect. He switched back to warrior caste, struggling more than a little to find the proper phrases. “And if indeed there were some Humans involved, then I am ashamed on behalf of Humanity. But should I be held personally accountable for the actions of any and all other Humans, any more than any of you should be held personally accountable for the actions of any and all of your fellow Minbari? Should the entire Human race be held accountable for the misdeeds of the few, any more than the entire Minbari race should be held accountable for the misdeeds of individual Minbari? How many millions of lives have already been lost to that sort of tragic thinking?”

Sinclair knew all too well that the Minbari had launched their war against Earth precisely because they had held all of Humanity responsible for the mistaken actions of a few. Once that anger wore off, many Minbari felt regret and even shame at their actions. He was counting on that, particularly as the next point was a little more tricky.

“As for the man who was chosen to replace me on Babylon 5,” Sinclair said, “I can claim an acquaintance with Captain John Sheridan and can assure you he is an honorable man who will do his best to be fair. He is not the warmonger that so many believe him to be.”

But the last of his words was almost lost to Neroon’s outrage. “An honorable man!” Neroon shouted in English. He came to the center of the circle to confront Sinclair directly. “You can stand in front of this assembly and use our language to say such a thing? Humans must have a very different definition of the word honorable that you could use it to describe such a treacherous and contemptible person. You add further insult by defending his appointment, made over our objections, to Babylon 5. And do not assault our ears any longer with your foul attempt at our language. There is no one in this hall who does not understand your language – or your lies.”

Sinclair met Neroon’s look of contempt, and abruptly decided to go for broke. There was no way to win this battle with subtle diplomacy against Neroon’s loud and persuasive indignation, and Sinclair felt a surge of liberation in deciding to just lay out the unvarnished truth and hope the shock of such a frontal attack would force open some minds. “Then I will ask you, in my own language, what did Sheridan do to earn such hatred? He did only what was necessary to prevent the destruction of his ship and the death of his shipmates. He fought to prevent the annihilation of his world and his people, as all of us did who fought for Humanity during the war. You talk of honor. Where is the honor in your willingness to commit genocide over a single death mistakenly inflicted?”

“The course of our holy war was not determined solely by that one grievous incident,” Neroon replied in a booming voice, “even as abhorrent as that crime was. No, our anger grew and grew, and our actions were justified, because of the universal tactics of dishonor, cowardice, and murder that we saw used by Humans in almost every encounter during the war, including the actions of Sheridan.”

“The destruction of the BlackStar owed as much to the arrogance of her captain as it did to Sheridan’s tactics,” Sinclair said. “You know that as well as I do. But it’s much easier to blame the enemy instead of your own failings.”

Sinclair turned to the Caste Elders. “I won’t defend everything done by every Human during that tragic war, but we faced annihilation in a war we never wanted or meant to start against a virtually unknown but clearly superior enemy. Even the most honorable Minbari under such extreme circumstances might find fear and desperation momentarily obliterating their reason and moral judgment. But the majority of Humans fought with honor, and since the war we have enthusiastically pursued peace and even friendship with the Minbari people.”

Again Sinclair paused. He wanted to say the next phrase in the worker dialect, and wanted it to be correct. “I came to Minbar, he enunciated carefully, “in that spirit of peace and friendship, to work with all Minbari.” Sinclair was pleased with the reaction from the worker elders. He knew they held the swing votes and he believed they were the most likely to base their decision less on theology or historical grievances, and more on what was said here.

“I came here only with the intention of functioning as Earth’s ambassador to your world. I am as surprised as most of you that I have been asked to take over the reins of the venerable Anla’shok, or in my language, the Rangers – which, I might add, is a name with a long and honorable history on my world, used for a number of different organizations dedicated to preserving life and freedom.”

Sinclair stole a quick glance over at the Grey Council. It seemed that he had a greater portion of their attention than he had started with. He silently asked a quick forgiveness from Delenn, Rathenn, and Jenimer for what he was about to say.

“And once again, I would like to agree with Alyt Neroon.”

That retrieved Neroon’s full attention. “At the risk of disagreeing with my friends among the Grey Council and the Minbari leader, I also do not believe I am the fulfillment of any prophecy, Minbari or otherwise. I am just a simple fighter pilot. A soldier. Over the last few years I have been asked to do some extraordinary jobs. To take on the command of Babylon 5 and try to maintain the peace in our section of the galaxy. To come to Minbar as an ambassador. And now to take over as leader of the Rangers. In none of these cases have I sought out the job. And in none of these cases have I agreed to do the job out of any other motive than a sense of duty.

“And it is to duty to which you should turn your attention now. The duty of the Rangers over these past one thousand years has been to watch for the return of the Shadows and warn Minbar should that occur. The current Ranger One and his fellow Rangers have carried out their orders faithfully and are now attempting to warn you, as Valen himself ordered them to do so long ago. If you believe in the purpose of the Rangers, and in Valen’s wisdom, then why won’t you listen to them?

“The issue is not so much who should lead the Rangers as it is whether or not the Shadows’ threat will be met or ignored. You have been provided with the evidence that they have returned. Now you must decide what will be done.

“This is not a matter of religion. It is a matter of survival. You know what the Shadows are capable of because you bore the brunt of the last war against them. I represent all Humans who would be willing to help this time, to stand side by side with you. Because it is the right thing to do. But you must decide if you will accept that help, from me or any other Human.

“Believe me, part of me hopes you’ll decide to send me home, so that I don’t have to take on this responsibility. It’s tempting to stick our heads in the sand and pretend nothing is wrong. Let someone else deal with it. But I can’t do that. So I’m offering my help. Not as a religious leader, not as the fulfillment of prophecy, not even as a politician or diplomat, but as a soldier whose whole life has been dedicated to fighting where necessary, and preserving life and peace where possible.

“Believe me, I do have an ulterior motive. I once stood with all Humanity before the abyss of utter annihilation, and saw how precarious is the survival of any species, more precarious than we would ever want to believe. That experience has given me a responsibility to Humanity and to all life. And if you entrust me with this responsibility, my first allegiance will be to the preservation of life. If you decide you need someone who is only interested in total war, meeting destruction with destruction and death with death at every turn, look elsewhere. I’ve seen too much of that already.

“I will train the Rangers to fight with extreme efficiency, but I will do my best to prevent an all-out war if possible. If fighting such a war becomes necessary, it will be fought with the purpose of saving life. All life, Minbari and Human, Centauri and Narn, Vorlon and even Shadow. Frankly, I can’t think of a higher purpose. And I believe that is what Valen intended.

“So now you are left with these two questions to answer: Will you allow the Anla’shok to perform their duty as ordained by Valen to actively engage the Shadow threat now, before it is too late? And will you allow me, and the rest of Humanity, to help you in that task?”

Sinclair fell silent, worried briefly that he said more than he should have. On a little more reflection, he decided he’d only said what had to be said.

He looked to the Minbari leader, but saw nothing in the Chosen One’s carefully composed expression that gave away his thoughts.

Then he heard Neroon applauding slowly in mockery. “Quite a little speech, Ambassador,” he said acidly. “Smoothly spoken. And so much talk of Valen one could almost believe you mean what you say. Except that you demonstrate so little respect or understanding for Minbari culture and customs. Perhaps some case can be made to allow the Anla’shok an expanded role in light of certain recent developments. But we will not allow sacred tradition to be flouted in that process. I am glad to hear you agree that you are no fulfillment of prophecy. But then you made that quite clear with this outrageous insistence that Humans and members of the worker caste be allowed to join the ranks of the Anla’shok. Do you care nothing of Minbari sensibilities? Do you know nothing of Minbari society? This insensitivity alone makes you, and by extension all Humans, unfit to have anything to do with the Rangers.”

Sinclair glanced over at the stony faces of the worker-caste elders. Were these Minbari workers mostly co-opted fronts for the status quo, as so clearly two of the worker-caste Satai were? Or were there enough worker elders ready to break ranks, like their one renegade Satai had already done? He decided to find out.

“On the contrary, Alyt Neroon, I have the greatest respect for your culture and customs, even if you do not return that respect. If I am to work with the Anla’shok, I will gladly learn as much about Minbari traditions and ways as you and your people are willing to teach me. But I will not be bound by tradition where it interferes with carrying out the work itself.”

Sinclair turned back to the assembled elders. “If Humanity is equally at risk from the Shadows, why should we not bear some of the burden of opposing them, especially as it seems the Rangers may have few volunteers from the military caste. As for the worker caste, they are your commercial pilots, your engineers, your construction workers, your mapmakers, your miners, your manufacturers. How many skills needed by the Rangers are to be found among those jobs? In those jobs they learned the languages and the customs of many different planets and cultures, invaluable assets, to the Rangers. Can that be said of as many military or religious caste? Valen proclaimed the workers to be an equal caste.”

“Equal, but different in their responsibilities to Minbari society,” said Neroon. “Who will do the work, if all the workers suddenly fancy themselves warriors or priests? Even Valen did not let the workers join the Anla’shok.”

“Not at the very beginning, true,” said Sinclair. “But toward the end of the war, he did indeed allow the worker caste to join. It was only after he traveled beyond that the worker caste was once again forbidden to join.”

“That is a myth,” said Neroon, “and not accepted by any reputable scholars.”

“Perhaps you only accept myth when it serves your own purposes,” Sinclair replied.

As they glared at each other, an unexpected thought occurred to Sinclair: he had a grudging respect for Neroon, in spite of everything, because at least Neroon said plainly what he meant, no subterfuge, no half truths.

“I believe,” said Jenimer pleasantly, “that it is time to deliberate and decide.”

A door opened at the far end of the hall, and two acolytes of the Chosen One hurried in. Sinclair would not be allowed to remain in the hall for the deliberations, and was escorted out to a courtyard. Gladly sitting down for the first time in hours, he waited. He did not know where the Vorlon was, but suspected Ulkesh had been allowed to remain in the hall.

Sinclair watched Minbar’s sun disappear beneath the horizon and her moons rising higher and higher, then the welcome sight of the stars appearing one by one. He wished he knew which of those stars held Catherine in its gravitational embrace. He wished there were some way to get word to her.

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