The Long Night of Centauri Prime (4 page)

"Would you care to take a walk?" he asked abruptly. He was surprised at the sound of his own voice.

"A walk, Majesty? Of course. Where on the grounds would–"

"No. Not on the grounds. I wish to walk into the city."

"The ... city, sir?" Durla looked as if he hadn't quite heard Londo properly.

"Yes, Captain of the Guards. I have a desire to see it closely..." One last time.

"I do not think that would be wise, Majesty."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes, Majesty" he said firmly. "At this time, the people are ..." His voice trailed off. He seemed reluctant to finish the sentence. So Londo finished it for him.

"The people are my people, Durla. Am I to hide in here from them?"

"That might be prudent, at least for the time being, Majesty."

"Your opinion is duly noted." He slapped the armrests of the throne and rose. "I shall walk about the city, and I shall do it alone."

"Majesty, no!"

"No?" Londo stared at him, his thick eyebrows knitting in a carefully controlled display of imperial anger. "I do not recall asking for your approval, Durla. That is one of the benefits of being emperor: you are entitled to take actions without consulting underlings." He gave particular stress to that last word. Durla didn't appear to take the hint, however, although he did ratchet up his obsequiousness level by several degrees.

"Majesty ... there are ways that certain things are done ... certain protocols ..."

"That will be the exciting aspect of my tenure in this position, Durla. I do not follow protocol. I follow the moment. Now ... I am going for a walk. I am the emperor. I think I am entitled to make that decision, no?"

"At least" – Durla seemed most urgent in his concerns – "At least, Majesty, and I pray I am not overstepping my bounds here, let an escort follow you at a respectful distance. You will be alone ... but you will not be alone. I hope that sounds clear..." Something about the irony of the suggestion struck Londo as amusing.

"Yes. Yes, it is quite clear. And let me guess: you will accompany these `phantom' guards, yes?"

"I would supervise the honor guard myself, Majesty, if you wish."

"You would be amazed, Durla, how little my wishes have to do with anything," Londo said. "Suit yourself. Exercise your free will. At least someone around here should be able to."

And so Londo walked out into the great capital city of Centauri Prime for what he anticipated would be the last time. His path from the palace to the temple of inauguration had been a fairly straightforward one, earlier that day. In this case, however, he deliberately strayed from any known path. He crisscrossed the city, making arbitrary decisions and occasionally backtracking. The entire time, a small platoon of men-at-arms trailed him, with Durla keeping a close-up and somewhat wary eye upon them all.

As Londo walked, he tried to drink in every aspect of the city, every curve of every building. Even the smell of burning structures and rubble were sensations that he wanted to savor. He had never found himself in quite this sort of mindset before; looking upon things with the attitude that he would never look upon them again. True, as he had prepared to accept the post of emperor, his life had flashed before his eyes. Each moment that had been a fond memory then was now tinged with pain. Times past and even times future ... particularly that much-dreamed-of moment when a one-eyed G'Kar would spell his doom.

Well, he was certainly going to wind up putting an end to that particular prediction. He took some small measure of comfort in that. For so long, he had felt as if he were nothing more than the tool of fate, possessing no control over his own destiny. No matter what his intentions, he had been propelled down a dark road that he had never intended to travel. Well, at least he would confound the fates in the end. It wouldn't be G'Kar's hand that ended his wretched existence ... it would be his own. No one could harm him at this point in his life except, of course, for he himsel–

That was when the rock bounced off his skull.

2
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Londo staggered from the impact. It took him a moment to understand fully what had occurred. His first, momentarily panicked impression was that he had been shot with a PPG blast. Odd that he would have been disturbed at such a notion. He was, after all, planning to do himself in before the evening was out, so it would have been almost ungrateful to be angry at someone who might have saved him the effort. Then the very fact that he still was able to construct a coherent thought was enough to tip him to the realization that what had hit him was some sort of simple projectile. It had ricocheted off his forehead and tumbled to the ground. A rock, and easy enough to spot; it was the only one tinged with red. Immediately the guards sprang into action. Half of them formed an impenetrable wall of bodies – a barrier against any possible encroachers. The rest bolted off in the direction from which the rock had come. Londo had the briefest glimpse of a small form darting into shadows of nearby buildings.

"Come, Majesty," said Durla, pulling at Londo's arm. "We must go ... back to the palace..."

"No."

"But we–"

"No! " Londo thundered with such vehemence that the guards around him were literally caught flatfooted. That provided Londo the opportunity he needed to push impulsively through the guards and run after the group who were, in turn, pursuing his assailant.

"Majesty!" called a horrified Durla, but Londo had already obtained a decent lead. Nevertheless, moments after the guards set out in pursuit of the emperor, they managed to draw alongside him ... not a difficult accomplishment since they were by and large younger and in better shape. As for Londo, he found he was already starting to feel winded, and felt a grim annoyance that he had let himself get into such poor shape.

Perhaps, he thought bleakly, he should have taken a cue from Vir. Lately Vir had whipped himself into impressively good shape.

"How did you do it?" he once had asked.

"Ate less, drank no alcohol, and exercised."

"Radical," Londo had responded, sniffing in disgust. Now, as his hearts pounded and his breath rasped, he felt as if it hadn't been such a radical notion after all.

Durla, only a few steps behind, called,

"Majesty! This really is most improper! There could be an ambush! It's insanity!"

"Why would it ... be an ambush?" huffed Londo. "You said it ... yourself ... this is insanity ... So who would ... create an ambush ... and have it hinge ... on the target doing something ... insane?"

The chase was slowing considerably. There was fallen rubble from shattered buildings, blocking the path. This hadn't deterred the guards, though, as they had scrambled over debris with as much alacrity as they could manage. They had dedicated themselves to corralling whoever had made such a vile attempt against their emperor. Then they slowed and fanned out, creating a semicircle around one burned-out area. It was quite evident, even from a distance, that they had brought the assailant to heel. Londo slowed, then stopped, and straightened his coat and vest in order to restore some measure of dignity. Durla, who drew up next to him, looked disgustingly fit and not the slightest out of breath.

"Your Majesty, I really must insist," he began.

"Oh, must you," said Londo, turning on him. "On what would you insist, precisely?"

"Let me bring you back to the palace, where you'll be safe–"

That was when they heard a female voice cry out, "Let me go! Let me go, you great buffoons! And don't touch them! They had nothing to do with it!"

"That is a child's voice," Londo said, looking at Durla with open skepticism. "Are you telling me that I must be escorted by armed guards back to the palace in order that I might avoid the wrath of a little girl?" Durla seemed about to try a response, but apparently he realized there was nothing he could say at that particular moment that was was going to make him look especially good.

"No, Your Majesty, of course not."

"Good. Because I certainly would not want to think you were questioning my bravery." Quite quickly Durla responded, "I would never dream of doing such a thing, Majesty."

"Good. Then we understand each other."

"Yes, Majesty."

"Now then ... I want to know what it is we're dealing with," he said, and he gestured toward the cluster of figures that had gathered ahead of them. Durla nodded and moved off to get a summary of the events from the guards who had caught up with the "assailant ." He listened as he was filled in on the situation, and when he returned to Londo, he clearly looked rather uncomfortable about it all.

"It appears ... you were correct, Majesty. It is a young girl, not more than fifteen."

"There are other people with her?"

"Yes, Majesty. A family ... or at least what's left of one. They've constructed a rather crude shelter from material at hand. They claim to have taken the girl in because she was wandering the streets and they felt sorry for her."

"I see."

"Yes, and they appear somewhat ... irate ... that she has put them at risk by drawing the wrath of the emperor down upon them."

"Really. Let them know that my wrath is not exactly out in full bloom today, despite any untimely provocations," he said, as he gingerly fingered the cut on his head. It was already starting to become swollen. "Better yet ... I shall tell them myself."

"It could still be a trick, Your Majesty" Durla warned. "A trap of some sort."

"Should that be the case, Durla, and they draw a PPG or some similar weapon that they plan to utilize," Londo said, clapping him on the shoulder, "I am fully confident that you will throw yourself into the path of the blast, intercept it with your own body, then die with praises for your beloved emperor upon your lips. Yes?"

Durla looked less than thrilled at the notion.

"It ... would be my honor, Majesty, to serve you in that manner."

"Let us both hope you have the opportunity," Londo told him. Squaring his shoulders, Londo walked over to where the guards had surrounded his attacker. They hesitated to let Londo through, though, only moving when Durla gave them a silent nod. For some reason this irked Londo to no end. He was the emperor. If he couldn't even get a handful of guards to attend to his wishes without someone else validating his desires, what in the world was the point of ruling? But move aside they did, giving Londo a clear view into the face of a wounded and hurting Centauri Prime.

There, in a makeshift lean-to, stood a Centauri family. A father, hair cut low, and a young mother. As was the style with many young women, she had a long tail of hair, which most women kept meticulously braided. In her case, however, it simply hung loosely around her shoulders, looking unkempt and in disarray, the entirety of it rooted squarely in the middle of her otherwise-shaved head, so its askew nature made it look like a follicle fountain. They also had two boys and a girl with them, between the ages of twelve and fifteen.

Even had Londo not known which of the youngsters had decided to use him for target practice, he would have been able to tell just by looking at them. The boys, like their parents, were staring toward the ground, afraid even to gaze into the face of their emperor. The father – the father, of all people – was visibly trembling. A fine testament to Centauri manhood, that. But the girl, well ... she was a different story, wasn't she. She didn't avert her eyes or shrink in fear of Londo's approach. Instead she stood tall and proud, with a level and unflinching gaze. There was some redness to her scalp, which Londo knew all too well: she had only recently taken up the female tradition of shaving her head, indicating her ascension into maturity. She looked quite gaunt, with high cheekbones and a swollen lip that marred her features. The blood on her lip was fresh.

"Did someone strike you?" Londo demanded, and then without waiting for reply, turned to his guards and said, "Who did this?"

"I did, Majesty" one of the guards said, stepping forward. "She was resisting, and I–"

"Get out," Londo said without hesitation. "If you cannot rein in a single child without brutality, you have no place representing the office of emperor. No, do not look to Durla!" Londo continued, anger rising. "I am still the power here, not the captain of the guards. I say you are out. Now leave."

The guard did not hesitate. Instead he bowed quickly to the emperor and walked quickly away. Londo then turned back to the girl and found nothing but disdain on her face.

"You do not approve of my action?" he asked. The question had been intended as rhetorical, but she immediately shot back a reply.

"You discharge a single guard and fancy yourself the protector of the people? Don't make me laugh."

"The insolence!" raged Durla, as if he himself had been insulted. "Majesty, please permit me to–" But Londo held up a calming hand and looked more closely at the girl.

"I have seen you before, yes? Have I not?" This time she didn't offer an immediate reply.

"Answer your emperor!" Durla snapped, and Londo did not remonstrate him. Youthful insolence was one thing, and tolerance certainly could be a virtue, but if one's emperor asks a question, then Great Maker, one answers the question or suffers the consequences. Fortunately enough, the girl at least had the good sense to recognize those things that were worth taking stands over, and those that were not.

"We have ... encountered each other one or two times before. At the palace. During official functions." When Londo continued to stare at her without full recognition, she added, "My mother was the lady Celes ... my father, Lord Antono Refa."

The identification hit Londo like a hammer blow. Lord Refa, his one-time ally, whose political machinations had been instrumental in costing Londo everything he had held dear. Whereas Londo had made many ill-considered decisions that had set him on a path toward darkness, Refa had dashed headlong down that same path, reveling in the lies, duplicities, and betrayals that were a part of power brokering and advancement in the great Centauri Republic. He had been a strategist and manipulator of the old school, well versed in the ways of deceit that had made the old Republic such a morass of power-hungry bastards. And he had been directly responsible for the deaths of several of those close to Londo. Londo had gained a revenge of sorts, arranging for Refa to meet a brutal and violent death at the hands of enraged Narns.