Smith said nothing, content to let him talk.
"You've seen something, or done, or felt, or experienced something. Whatever it is, it's completely changed your entire worldview, hasn't it? When we are young, we have such clear ideals, such a precise understanding
of the world and our place in it, and then occasionally something happens to shatter all that. Where once there was certainty, now there is only doubt.
"I saw it in myself when I first spoke to a telepath. I had seen them before of course, and I had always known of their existence, but it was the first time I had spoken to one.... I could sense her superiority beneath the surface. Despite the uniform and the badge and the gloves, she still behaved as if she was better than us."
He sat forward.
"And do you know what? She was right. They are better than us. They have a power that I cannot comprehend. Oh, I can imagine it, but I can never know for certain. That revelation, that I was a secondclass citizen because of something missing in my mind, in my DNA.... well, that changed me. I saw everything differently from that moment.
"You've seen something as well, haven't you? What is it? I assume that's what you came here to tell me?"
Smith nodded and walked forward, one hand still in the pocket of his trousers. He pulled the PPG out and laid it on the desk. Edgars leaned back again, looking up at him.
"I've seen Death," he said simply.
Ah, child. You have called for me. How are things progressing?
Badly. You did know you were sending me to a deathorglory bloodhound with delusions of Godhood, didn't you?
I knew he was flawed, yes. Were he perfect there would be little need of your intervention. How is his training progressing?
It's weird. Sometimes I think I've got somewhere, but then he goes and does something totally alien, or stupid, or incomprehensible, or all three, like now for instance. He's gone off alone and dumped all this on me.
Perhaps he sees you as his successor.
Once, I can accept. Last time, it wasn't really as if he had a choice - but he's the leader here, not me!
Ah, a battle. I see.
Anyway, I can moan about him later, if there is a later. You said I could call on you once, and you'd help me, right? Whatever it was.
I did, although my power to intervene is perhaps not as overwhelming as you may think.
Whatever. I don't know quite how this seeing thing works, but I can see John. He's talking with one of the Vorlons.
Yes, so he is.
I.... you can see it?
Through your eyes, yes.
Oh.... good. I want everyone to see it. Hear it, too. Everyone on the station, in the fleet, the lot.
That may risk revealing my involvement to the Vorlons.
Then risk it.
Do you believe this is so important?
I wouldn't ask if I didn't. What he's saying, it's something everyone has to hear. That's what you kept telling me, that this isn't just a war about armies or territory, it's about ideology and belief and philosophy and them trying to dictate what's best for all of us.
Yes.
Well, I think John's about to tell them all that their ideology stinks, and it's something everyone should hear. There are too many people who think the Vorlons are a necessary evil, even after what they did to Narn. We can't afford to let any more planets be destroyed before people finally get up and do something. The more people who hear this conversation, the more people will act now. Do you get me?
Perfectly.
You did promise. Any one thing, and you'd do it.
I did. Very well. It is perhaps a little too late for me to continue to hide, and time I should 'get up and do something'.
That's not what I meant.
No, it is. I will do as you ask.
The whole conversation took less than a second.
Any lesser man would have been intimidated, but Sebastian was not a lesser man. He was a man who had stared at infinity and survived with both purpose and sanity.
Kats looked at the tableau as she rose, coughing and shaking, and she could feel the power crackling in the air between them. Sebastian was talking, but the words hardly registered. Sinoval said nothing, or if he did speak, she could not hear the words.
And then Sebastian paused, and she had the impression that he was smiling.
"I do apologise," he said. "It appears I was mistaken."
He turned and looked at her. She saw in him then the eyes of a murderer, the eyes of a monster who knows too much and understands too little. She had faced madmen before, and she knew then that Sebastian was not mad.
He was coldly, chillingly sane, the kind of sanity that cannot tolerate any madness at all, no matter how insignificant.
"My lady," he said, and the words cut her to the quick. He was holding his cane in one hand, tapping the silver top in the palm of the other. "It is so nice of you to join us. We were having a spirited discussion. Perhaps you can help us. What, in your opinion, is Primarch Sinoval?"
She did not look at Sinoval, keeping her eyes fixed on Sebastian despite the gorge rising in her throat. Her hand clutched her necklace so tightly that it drew blood.