G'Kar watched the video footage in silence. His face was grim. It would be hard, G'Kael knew, for him to watch scenes of Narn soldiers and Narn ships being destroyed. Even harder to watch this happen at the hands of the Shadows, seemingly allied with the Centauri, who were led by G'Kar's oldest friend.
"Is that genuine?" G'Kar asked, when it was finished.
"It seems so," replied G'Kael. "Our preliminary tests have not been able to determine any obvious flaws in the recording. It will be examined in more detail, of course."
"Londo would never ally himself with the Shadows," G'Kar said angrily. "He has been fighting them almost as long as I have. He was one of the first to join my mission."
"That was our thought," said Na'Toth. "But are you sure he would not do that? Not even for the good of his people?"
"No, he would not. He was here, remember. He was here when the Drakh invaded Kazomi Seven. He has seen the chaos the Shadows cause. He would not make such an alliance, no matter what the ultimate aim. This is a trick of some kind."
"Whatever it is," G'Kael said, "my instructions are to take this piece of footage before the Council and demand that the Centauri embassy here be refused recognition, their provisional ambassador exiled, and our embassy restored to its rightful status. I am also to request that the Alliance join our war against the Centauri."
"Londo would never give his people over to the Shadows," said G'Kar thoughtfully. "This is a trick, I am sure of it. By the Shadows or...."
He hesitated, and G'Kael caught the belief he could not give voice to. The position of Narn Ambassador here had been denied recognition by the Council and G'Kael himself dismissed from war meetings, until, as Sheridan had put it, the Narns chose where their allegiance lay. That position would be reinstated if the Narns committed themselves to war with the Shadows. The Kha'Ri had been furious to hear this.
But now, mere weeks later, by a stunning coincidence, 'evidence' had appeared of a Centauri deal with the Shadows. G'Kar would not like to think that the Kha'Ri had manufactured such evidence, but it was a possibility that could not be far from his mind. Both G'Kael and Na'Toth had considered that, although not aloud.
"A trick," G'Kael said at last. "But we cannot prove that, and I have no time to do it. My first duty, Ha'Cormar'ah, is to my people, as you know."
"Yes, I know. Very well, G'Kael. Approach the Council. I will try to.... dissuade them from committing to war with the Centauri. We do not have the resources to fight such a war yet anyway, not while we still fight the humans. But I fear we can only buy a little time.
"The Shadows have done this to force precisely this sort of action, G'Kael. We must do what we can to ensure their success is limited."
Time was short.
Ambassador Sheridan moved as fast as he could, rifling through the papers on Clark's desk, desperately trying to get into the files. Nothing was any help. The computer console had been purged from within, all the files destroyed. All the papers had been shredded, except one.
It was a simple white page, with two words written in Clark's scribbled hand.
Scorched Earth.
Scorched Earth.
The words filled Sheridan with fear. What was Clark going to do here? Where had that secret passage taken him? This whole building was filled with emergency escape tunnels - he could have gone anywhere.
And he had sent away his secretary and all the Security from this part of the building. It would take time to recall them. Everything would take time, time he did not have.
The Shadow was by the window. It seemed to be staring up into the sky.
Fortunately there was one person who could help, if he got here fast enough. If he wanted to help.
The door chimed, and Sheridan looked up. At last! "Come in!" he barked. The door opened, and in walked two security guards. Between them walked Welles. His face was covered in bruises and he limped slightly, but his eyes were as aware and as alert as always.
"You may leave," Sheridan told the security guards.
"We apologise, sir," said one of them. "We are not to leave this one alone anywhere other than in his cell. Direct orders from the President himself, sir. That may only be countermanded by his own word."
"The President is.... indisposed at present. You have my instructions to leave."
"That is impossible, sir."
Sheridan sighed. They did not have time for this. Fortunately another realised this as well, and was more than capable of taking action.
The Shadow moved with a speed neither guard could anticipate. Space folded around it as it shimmered into invisibility. There was a blur of movement, a spray of blood and an anguished cry, and moments later both guards were dead.
"You didn't have to do that," Welles said softly.
"Yes, I did," said Sheridan. "We don't have time. None of us has any time at all."
"What's happened here?" Welles' cool gaze took in the bloodstains on the wall, the pile of shredded paper and the broken body of the dead Shadow.
"This," Sheridan said, thrusting the piece of paper into Welles' hand. He took it awkwardly in broken fingers. "Clark's planning something. Clark and the Vorlons. They're controlling him, and they're up to.... I don't know what, but it is going to be very bad. He's vanished through one of his secret passages. He's gone somewhere.
"What I need to know is where he's gone, and just where on this whole planet the Vorlons have been hiding all this time!"
"I thought you knew everything."
"Clark was damned good at keeping secrets, even from me. But no one can keep secrets from you. That's what you do, isn't it?
"So where is he, and where are the Vorlons?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because if you don't, then God alone knows what's going to happen! Scorched Earth?"
"Let him do what he likes. We don't deserve to be saved."
"What?" Sheridan breathed. He stumbled back. "How can you say that?"
"You're talking to someone who had an unborn baby murdered less than three weeks ago. I've studied humanity all my life, and I'm telling you we do not deserve to be saved."
"How can you...? Listen to me! I don't know why you went into this job, but I know why I did. I wanted to help people. I wanted to do what was right. It took us all centuries to build a society based on freedom and rights, but the thing about freedom is that it brings responsibility. That's the point! We have to give some things back to the society that raised us. I tried to teach that to my children, and I'd teach it to my grandchildren.
"I can't just sit back and watch people die if there's anything I can do to prevent it."
"You just killed two people," Welles noted.
"And if it saves millions, then was it worth it? Dammit, Welles! Help me!"
Welles closed his eyes and sighed. A soft tremor shook his body, and he said one word. "Vicky." Then he opened them again. "What would these Vorlons need? What resources, what sort of environment, what?"
"They took over Clark. That implies they'd be with someone or somewhere he was involved with a lot. They'd prefer to be as near the top of the scale as possible. Maybe not the Government itself, but close. Someone powerful, but a behind–the–scenes player. I'd take a guess at someone behind a member of the Round Table."
"Ah, yes. Them. Someone Clark would visit regularly?"
"He'd have to. The control must have been very slight to prevent me noticing. They'd have to reinforce it at regular intervals."
"IPX," Welles said slowly. "He's been having secret, private meetings with someone there for months, maybe longer. He's always gone alone. What was happening there.... I was never able to find out, but they've got a huge complex, a lot of illegal weapons and other research, and a good number of off–world holdings and interests."