The Long Night of Centauri Prime (30 page)

"No, I wouldn't insult your intelligence by claiming that. But their situation was somewhat dire, last I heard."

"And have you done anything to improve that situation for them, using the resources you have at your disposal?"

"Of course not," sniffed Timov. "I do for them exactly what they would have done for me."

"As always, Timov, you can be counted on."

"You meant that sarcastically, I know, but the truth is that you know you always can count on me. I'll wager that even as we speak you're surrounded by backstabbers, yes-men ... all manner of bottom feeders. You need someone who will be honest with you, tell you precisely what she thinks–"

"What `she' thinks," Londo echoed mirthlessly.

"–and will never betray you. You said it yourself, Londo. With me, you always know where you stand."

"Except my situation is quite different now, Timov. I am emperor now. The stakes have been raised."

"Not for me. For the Durlas, the Liones, the others of this court, there is a certain advantage to trying to get you out of the way, for they can then attempt to seize power themselves. Whatever power I have, on the other hand, derives solely from you. If you are gone, so am I. So I would have far more at stake."

"So you are not simply in this for the money. That is not all you care about?"

Slowly Timov walked to the window and looked out across Centauri Prime. Londo couldn't help but notice that she ran her white-gloved hand across the windowsill and looked at the fingers. Obviously she didn't like what she saw, because she shook her head in mild reproof. Londo made a mental note to speak to the cleaning staff.

"If all I cared about was money, Londo," she said after due consideration, "I would not have provided the blood donation that saved your life when you were comatose on Babylon 5, some years ago. All I had to do was allow you to die, and I would have inherited – along with the other two wives – the entirety of your estate."

"I thought you were never going to tell me about that."

"I wasn't. But I felt that–" She stopped suddenly, turned and looked at him. "Wait. How did ... you knew? You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Do you think I am stupid?"

"But ... but how?"

"One of Franklin's medtechs let slip that I had undergone a transfusion. I know I have a rare blood type, and I know that you have the same, from back when we had our premarital medical exams. So I asked the medtech if you were the donor. He admitted that you were, but begged me to keep the information to myself."

"So that was the reason that you chose me as the wife to keep." There was a small settee with a thin cushion along the window, and she sat in that now, shaking her head in amazement.

"He begged me to keep the knowledge to myself, because he didn't want Franklin knowing that he had – what is the Earth saying? – spilled the peas. So why are you telling me now, after all this time?"

"Because," she said, looking slightly put out that her dramatic revelation had been preempted, "I want you to know you can trust me."

"If you mean that I can trust you not to betray me ... no, of course I do not believe that. Then again," he added as he saw that she looked slightly crestfallen, "I cannot afford to trust anyone that far. That is a simple and sad fact of my life."

"I will stay here for a time, Londo," Timov declared. "I can certainly keep myself occupied during the days and nights here. If nothing else, Senna could use a positive female role model in this place."

"And you think you can locate one for her?" Londo queried. Timov's lips thinned in her best "we-are-not-amused" expression, which was the one she most often wore and had thoroughly perfected. "If you are truly lonely, as Senna suspects ... then you will have me to turn to. As for me, I will be able to avail myself of the rights to which I am entitled as your wife."

"Unless, of course, I divorce you as well," Londo said quietly.

She studied him carefully.

"Is that what you intend to do?"

"I do not know. I will be considering all options."

"Fine. You do that," she said primly. "In the meantime, kindly assign someone to aid me in transporting my things to my room. I assume that somewhere in this decorated mausoleum you can manage to locate some sort of accommodations. I know better than to assume that I will be sleeping with you." She shuddered. "I still remember that ghastly display you put on with Daggair and Martel. Shameless."

"Ah, yes," he said nostalgically. "What did you call it? Oh yes. My `sexual olympics.' " She made a loud tsk tsk noise. "This is an absurd situation, Timov, you know that. To have you here, floating about the palace, expressing your disapproval of me? Undercutting me in front of–"

"I did not say that, Londo. Kindly do not put words in my mouth, or attribute to me actions that I do not intend to engage in. While in the presence of others, your courtiers and other rabble, I would never think of saying anything the least bit demeaning or, in any way, challenging your authority."

He stared at her, feeling as if he'd just been hit in the head with a brick. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. Respect for the man is one thing; respect for the office is something else again. Private is private, Londo, and public is public. It would be nothing less than hypocritical of me to embrace the privileges of being the wife of the emperor while tearing down that same emperor in the eyes of his subordinates. I am here to help you rule, Londo. To rule wisely and well. But you cannot rule without the respect of others, and a woman who diminishes her ruler husband while others are within earshot, by extension, diminishes all of Centauri Prime. Because while you are emperor, you are Centauri Prime, heaven help us."

"I see." For a long moment he said nothing, and then he reached over and tapped a small button on a stand nearby his throne. It sounded a chime that immediately brought Dunseny running. The aide glanced with clear apprehension at Timov. "Kindly bring my wife, and her belongings, to the Empress Suite at once."

"Yes, Majesty," said the aide, his head bobbing obediently. Then he paused and inquired, "Where ... would that be, Majesty?"

"Wherever my wife says it is," Londo replied.

"Thank you, Londo," Timov said. "I will withdraw now, to bathe and wash off the dust of travel." And then, to Londo's complete astonishment, Timov bowed in a perfect curtsy, bobbing her head, bending her knee in such elegant fashion that it seemed as if she'd been doing it all her life. As she did so, she extended one hand and let it hang there for a moment. Londo, surprising himself to a degree, stepped down from the throne, took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. Timov looked up at him, then, and there was actually a sparkle of merriment in her eyes. "If we do this right, Londo," she said in a low voice, "we might actually have some fun." With that, she rose, turned her back, and strode from the throne room. He sat there for a moment in silence, and then, very softly, he began to count out loud. "Three ... two ... one..."

"Why are you counting?" came the voice of Shiv'kala.

"A private joke," Londo said to him, not even bothering to turn in his direction. "You will allow me my occasional indulgences in such things, I hope. I have so few these days."

"The woman."

"What of her?" asked Londo.

"She is ... unexpected."

"Women often are."

"Her presence could be... troublesome. Have her leave."

"For no reason at all?" Londo demanded.

"You are emperor. You do not need a reason." At this, Londo stood, stepped down from the throne and walked straight toward the shadowy edges of the room from which Shiv'kala always seemed to materialize – it was as if he stepped sideways out of space.

"Even an emperor does not like to do things for no reason," Londo told him. "Emperors who do so tend to lose things, such as their popularity. That is often followed by the loss of life, or at very least certain bodily appendages to which I have become quite accustomed, thank you very much. I can handle Timov."

"We are not convinced." Shiv'kala paused a moment, then stepped ever so slightly into the light. His customary expression of amusement, mixed with disdain, was firmly in place. "You like the woman, don't you. Through your bluster ... and her abrasiveness ... you still like her."

"It is not about `like.'"

"What then?"

"You," Londo said, stabbing a finger at the Drakh, "have no idea how it felt. That woman, and her fellow wives, pushed at me and yammered at me to advance through the ranks of society. They wanted me to obtain power so that they, in turn, would know comfort and privilege. It never stopped. And Timov was the loudest in proclaiming that I would never amount to anything. When the post to Babylon 5 came available, I knew it was considered a joke. I seized it anyway, because it meant that I would be as far away from them as possible. Now I have reached the pinnacle of Centauri status. I admit it: it will amuse me to have her nearby, so that she can see firsthand just what I – the nothing – have amounted to. That I am the pride and puissance of the Centauri Republic. That I am the living history of the imperial line of Centauri Prime. That I am–"

"Our servant." The words, harsh but true, hung there. Londo had nothing to say in response. "Let her remain, if it pleases you," Shiv'kala said quietly. "But do not let her get too close to you."

"That will not happen," Londo said confidently. "She has no desire to get close to me. She wants to enjoy the power and prestige, but I know her. She will become bored with it soon. And she will tire of watching people treat me with respect. She will find that she cannot hold her tongue; it will be too galling for her. She will leave of her own accord, and in that way I will be spared a needless conflict."

"Very well. But know this, Londo ... if it does not develop as you say ... the consequences will be on your head." And with that, Shiv'kala had faded back into the shadows.

"The consequences will be on my head." Londo had replied making an amused noise deep in his throat. "Aren't they all?"

"You've lost weight, Vir. You look emaciated. You should eat something," said Timov, daughter of Algul, wife of Londo Mollari. Vir was immediately on his feet, putting his hand on his stomach. "I've ... gotten many compliments, actually."

"Well, let's have a look at you," Timov said. She walked up to him, gripped him by the shoulders, and turned him this way and that as if inspecting a side of beef. He started to say something, but she shushed him as she continued her examination. Finally she turned him around to face her and said brusquely, "I suppose it's healthier for you ... still ... you're not quite as huggable as you once were."

"I'm not as ... what?" And Vir was dumbfounded as Timov threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

"It's good to see you, Vir," she said. She stepped back and looked up at him with an amused sparkle in her eye. "You poor, horribly abused, put-upon fellow. I never thought you'd last out the year when I first saw you. And yet here you are, the ambassador to Babylon 5." She looked closely at his face. "You do look a good deal more wan, though. Far more worry lines. And your eyes ..." She held his chin, staring into them, not unkindly. "They've seen terrible things these past years, haven't they. Things you'd much rather have closed them to."

"Well ... yes ... but if I had, I would have kept bumping into furniture." She laughed at that, and then gestured that he should sit. He did, and she did likewise. "Not to sound presumptuous, Lady Tim ... Empress Timov–"

"Timov, please. We're old friends."

"Are we? I mean ... yes, of course." Vir felt as if his entire world was spinning off its axis. He needed time to cope with the shifting ground beneath him. "Timov ... what are you doing here? How long have you been here?"

"The better part of two years, actually," Timov told him. "I very much doubt that Londo thought I would be here this long. Truthfully, I wasn't expecting it either. Things have just ... worked out."

"Worked out ... how? Are you and he..." Vir wasn't quite sure how to proceed with the sentence.

"The secret of our marriage's success has always been our lack of communication," said Timov. "I wouldn't say that we communicate all that much more now. But when we do, there is a ... relaxed manner about it. We have been through much in the past years, Vir ... particularly him. It has changed him. Made him more than he was ... and less. I think he is trying to strike a balance now."

"And you're providing that?"

"After a fashion, in a small way," she allowed. "There is still much that needs to be done, much that needs attending to–"

At that moment, the door opened. Durla stepped in quickly ... and came to a dead halt when he saw Timov and Vir. He forced a smile, and it was rather obvious that it was an effort to push it onto his face.

"Ambassador Vir," he said with so much cheerfulness that he sounded as if he were medicated. "I heard that you had arrived. Shame on you for not advising us ahead of time. Highness," and he bowed to Timov, "I can attend to the ambassador's needs from this point. I'm certain you have other matters of far greater importance that need attending to ..."

"Greater importance than chatting with an old friend?" she said, scoffing. "Not at the moment, no. Of course, to some degree I owe that to you, Minister. The Minister here," she said, turning to Vir, "has gone to great effort to try and minimize my calendar of activities. Is that not so, Minister?"

"With all respect, Highness, I have no idea to what you could possibly be referring."

"I'm sure you don't," Timov said flatly, in that particular tone that still caused Vir's bladder to feel slightly weakened. "Now if you don't mind, Minister, Vir and I were in the midst of a conversation. I'm certain you wouldn't want to disturb us, would you?"

"Certainly not," said Durla, as he bowed deeply and exited backing up. All business, Timov turned back to Vir and said, "That man has got to go. He oozes bile. I have no idea why Londo keeps him around, but he is a frightening little person. He has arrayed an entire support group of key appointees, all of whom are loyal to him rather than Londo. I will do whatever it takes to find a way to rid the palace of him and his ilk. That, at the moment, is my major concern. Well, that and Londo ..."