Gray looked with disgust at Garibaldi. “He must feel you gave him no choice.”
The security chief picked some Martian dirt out of his fingernails. “You will drop all charges against Talia Winters, especially the rogue telepath. And you’ll do it right this minute, or the next thing you’ll see on the news will be Psi Cops gambling. Won’t the press enjoy that right after this juicy scandal with the Mix? Maybe the Senate will have enough courage to throw you out on their own.”
“I don’t believe you did it,” muttered Bester, “but it’s the kind of thing Ambassador Mollari would do.” He called out to the pilot, “Get me a channel to headquarters.”
“Yes, sir. You’re on-line.”
“This is Mr. Bester with a final report on the Babylon 5 bombing. This information is cleared for immediate release to the media. Arthur Malten confessed to forming a terrorist organization called Free Phobos, and his only accomplices were three other telepaths from the Mix—Emily Crane, Michael Graham, and Barry Strump. Unbeknownst to anyone, they were Martian sympathizers. Mr. Malten died this afternoon, the victim of an accidental bomb explosion.”
“In light of this new information, all charges against Talia Winters have been dropped. She is to be taken off the list of rogue telepaths. with all her duties and rights as a member of Psi Corps restored to her, effective immediately. Bester out.”
Garibaldi nodded, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.
At the Clarke Spaceport orbiting Earth, two men stood among the crowds, shaking hands. One man wore gloves, and the other didn’t. One was catching a quick shuttle to Berlin, and the other was headed in the opposite direction to catch a two-day transport to Babylon 5.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with me?” asked Garibaldi. “If you’ve blown your expense account, I’ll put you up on my couch.”
Gray chuckled. “I have blown my expense account, thanks to you. But that’s not the reason. I don’t want to go back to B5 just to see Susan—that would be making a nuisance of myself. I’ll have business on B5 again someday, and I’ll be looking forward to seeing all of you.”
“Just don’t bring Bester with you.”
The two men laughed, and Gray lowered his head. “I have one request. Will you tell Susan that I did something worthwhile. Something that would win her over.”
“You bet I’ll tell her,” said Garibaldi. “I plan to get a lot of free meals out of this—by recounting our adventures over and over again. I’ll leave out the part where you fell in the water.”
“That was your fault,” Gray reminded him.
“That’s why I’ll leave it out.”
“And how is Ms. Winters?”
“Still a little shaken,” answered Garibaldi. “I understand she’s staying with her parents for a few days before she goes back. I bet she’ll have some pretty good stories to tell, too.” He sighed. “These are classy women we’re talking about, and we’re a couple of lugs. We may never stand a chance with them.”
“I know,” said Gray.
A synthesized voice announced, “Transport Starfish is now boarding for Babylon 5.”
“That’s me,” said Garibaldi. He started off but stopped to wave back. “You’re okay, Gray.”
“You too.”
Two hundred kilometers below them, a young woman with sleek blond hair stood watching the stars from her parents’ porch. The nightmare was finally over, but she still didn’t feel like talking much, about her escape or anything else. So much of what had happened to her in the last few days Talia didn’t understand. She had to parse it slowly in the light of time, and pick out those pieces that were worth saving, and worth puzzling over.
As she watched the stars glimmer, she marveled at the fact that she lived among them. She called them home. Talia had seen enough of both Earth and Mars to last her for a while, and she looked forward to going back to the cold blackness of space. She longed to see the aliens, who were less judgmental and prejudiced than her own species. Among aliens, you could be whoever you were, she realized, but among humans you had to be whoever they wanted you to be.
And nobody was what they seemed.
Out of all the weirdness, the duplicity, the good masquerading as bad, and the bad masquerading as good, there was one piece of her journey she wanted badly to understand. It was Invisible Isabel. She wanted to talk to Ambassador Kosh as soon as possible, but she knew the Vorlon would speak in riddles and tell her nothing outright. Kosh would want her to figure it out for herself.
The part of Invisible Isabel she recognized was her nascent telekinetic abilities, a gift from an old friend; but it was Isabel’s voice that was new to her. That voice was confident and independent, and it could get her out of tough scrapes. She couldn’t hear it all the time, but she would like to hear it more often.
“Talia, honey, we’re going to have some ice cream!” called her mom, sounding a lot like her Uncle Ted. His nightmare was still going on, but at least he had chosen it.
And what about the dogged persistence of Garibaldi? That was something. She had to think about all of it, but not tonight. Tonight she would eat ice cream and listen to stories about her extended family and parents’ friends. Then she would return to her home, Babylon 5.