name = Ka Faraq Gatri
email = 154419@swansea.ac.uk
title = Dreaming in the City of Sorrows
warnings = 
story =      Thanks to Kathryn M. Drennan for creating the City of Sorrows and JMS for creating the whole sand box in the first place.
                                                                                  For the One who is Three

                                                                          "Even in your dreams
                                                                           I never left you" - 'Some Measure of Blood' - Flarn

     The two ships hung in the blackness of space, the Breen battle cruiser vastly dwarfing the small Drazi supply ship.
     "Attention Drazi transport," sang the comm.  "You have violated Breen territory.  If you do not withdraw immediately we will be
within our rights to use what ever means necessary to remove you."  There was a pause.  "I do so hope," said the comm, "you'll be
awkward."

     Tonight the dream was back.  The dream that had haunted her for more than twenty years now.  The one from which she awoke
shaking, her face wet with tears.
     The faces breaking through the shadows, the whispered words "I love you", a last confession torn from lips that should have
touched hers, but never did.  The waking, breaking awareness that she could do nothing.  Pain and horror spilling through her heart
again.  The sick feeling in her stomach as they tried to revive him.  Nothing.  Screaming at the nurses, at Franklin, at anyone that it
wasn't fair!  That he shouldn't have done it!  How could he leave her like that?
      She sat up with a start.  Her nightshirt clung to her slick with sweat.  She go the breath she had been holding.  It came out as a
sigh.  She closed her eyes and shuddered.
      Since she had come to Minbar, since she had been Entil'Zha, the dream had come to her less and less. As if it let her be now
she was doing something for him, here in the City of Sorrows.  An apt name, she thought. One of the Minbari teachers here had 
caught her as she hurried from one meeting to another.  He was religious caste, and like so many of the others here had eyes that
seemed to see into her soul.
      "To dream in the City of Sorrows is to dream of a better life," he said.
      Not in her case.  To dream in the City of Sorrows was to have the same old dreams and not to be able to do a thing about them.
      She slid carefully out of the Minbari bed and padded over to the bathroom.  She filled a glass with water and leaned on the door
jamb, sipping it slowly.  Through the gloom she made out the red flashing light of the muted comm.
      Composing herself, she crossed the room and flicked the call recieve.
      "Entil'Zha Ivanova," she said.
      "Susan," said Doctor Franklin, as the picture on the screen flicked from the standard comm logo to his tired face.  "Sorrty to wake
you up."  He frowned, seeing the swollen, redness of her eyes.  "Are you O.K.?"
      "Nightmare," she said.
      "Oh.  I was working late on this new shipment we've had on from the Rim.  It's a pretty mixed bag, medical records, tissue samples
alien technology, all dug up during an archaelogical expedition."
      "Alien technology?"
      "Yeah, all sorts of devices.  I've been takinga preliminary look through and I think you might want to come to the Institute, take a
look for yourself."
      Her heart lept into her throat.  She could hardly make her lips form the word.
      "Marcus?" she asked.
      "Possibly," Franklin replied guardedly, "but don't get your hopes up.  This is a preliminary look and..."
      She cut his disclaimer off in full flow.
      "I'll be there," she said, and broke the link.
      For a moment she just stood there, staring at the comm logo.  Her head was a whirl of emtions.  Fear, pain, happiness, joy. She
felt as though her legs were aboutto give way.  She felt for the chair blindly and sat down with a crash.  On the desk opposite her was
her only photo of Marcus.  Standing with Sheridan, Delenn and G'Kar at Londo's birthday party, the year he had died.  Was it possible,
after all these years?
      Decisively she hit her link.
      "Nacroon."
      "Go," came the sleep heavy voice of her aide from the other end.
      I want a ship ready to go to Earth as soon as possible.  Ranger One out."

      She found Franklin in the loading bay, watching the transport crew and his medical staff unloading another shipment in bioboxes.
Sealed in a blue crate like one of the ones they were unloading was hope, she knew.
      "I didn't know unloading required the presence of the head doctor," she said.
     "It doesn't," he admitted, "but therange of finds this team has made is amazing.  I wanted to be here when they were taken out."
     "Dedication to duty as ever."
     "As ever.  Speaking of duty, won't people miss you?"
      Ivanova shook her head.
      "Nacroon can handle things pretty well and since that business with the Pak'Ma'Ra we haven't had any trouble.  This is important."
     Franklin nodded.
     "I'll show you what I've found."
     What Franklin had found was still sitting in its blue crate, part wrapped in packaging.  Ivanova peered down at it with butterflies in
her stomach.
     "I've put it to the top of Dr Nemimba's to do list.  He's the real expert on alien technology here at the Instistute.  I only dabble," 
Franklin explained.  But Ivanova got the impression he was just talking to cover up the silence.
      "It looks like the healing device," she said.
      "At first glance," the doctor agreed.  "That's what I thought, until I started to look a little closer.
      "I never found out which race built the healing device.  It's been puzzling me for all these years.  Why build a machine like that?
Then I hear we've got this new transport of finds coming in from a Minbari expedition on the Rim.  Amongst the finds is this.  So I
contacted the dig organiser, got him to tell me about where he found it.
      "They haven't been able to translate much from the original language, yet.  But what they could translate seems to point to the
room it was found in being the sideroom off a courtroom."
      "A courtroom?" said Ivanova, looking up from where she had been prodding at the wrappings trying to see more of the machine.
"Why would they want a healing device off the side of a courtroom?"
      "Apparently the race that built it felt that it was required," Franklin said.  "It seems they didn't believe in imprisoning people for their
crimes but they felt they couldn't let crimes go unpunished.  So, they developed the healing machine."
      "As a punishment?"
      "Yes.  The offender would have part, or in some extreme cases all, of their life energy transferred to a sick person in order to cure
them."
      Ivanova absorbed this.  The device that had saved her life was a punishment for criminals.  And it had taken Marcus' life.  On 
reflection she wasn't sure whether the race who had made the device had got it the right way round.  Marcus had died, but it was her
who had suffered all these years, like a jail sentence she couldn't escape from.
      "You said this wasn't a healing machine," she said.
      "No," Franklin said.  "You're very lucky this was still intact after all this time.  From what the Minbari can tell there's only one of 
these in existence."
      "So," she prompted, "if it's not a healing device, what is it?"
      "In extreme cases a convicted  criminal would be required to give up all their life energy.  But justice sometimes gets it wrong.  In
that event this machine was needed.  It reverses the effects of the healing machine putting life back into an individual."
      "How soon can you set it up?" she asked, suddenly brusque and efficient.
      "Whoa, hold on there.  Now I don't even know if this thing is still functional, never mind whether or not it will work.  I don't have any
idea what effect it'll have on you..."
      "Stephen, I don't care what effect it'll have on me," Ivanova interrupted.  "This is the first chance I've had in over twenty years to get
Marcus back.  I'm not about to walk away from it."
      Franklin could see the determination in her eyes.  Once Susan Ivanova was set on a course there was no changing her mind.
Immovable as a mountain and stubborn as an ass.
      "Will you at least let us run tests on the machine to see if it's working O.K.?  All those years in the sand and the insides might be
permentantly damaged.  I wouldn't want any vital life energy to go floating out across medlab.
     Ivanova nodded.  "Call me when you've finished."  She turned and headed for the door.  It slid open with a pneumatic hiss.  She half 
turned in the doorway.
      "Stephen," she said.  He looked up.  "Thank you."  She left.
      Franklin folded his arms and turned to stare at the machine.

      The House and Headquarters of the President of the Interstellar Alliance was a short transport ride from the City of Sorrows.  A
practical point that both Sheridan and Delenn had agreed was important.  With her being Entil'Zha it was a sensible arrangement.  It
would also benefit future generations, Delenn had pointed out, unhappy that the hedquarters of a new universe order was being sited
purely to meet her needs.  The Anlashok were to be the police force of the new Alliance and it was as well to have them nearby for
consultations and briefings.
       However, as she made the journey she found herself wishing it were longer.  The conversation that she was going to have with
Susan was not going to be easy and she needed time to think through what she was going to say.  Two nights ago Dr Franklin had
contacted her with some startling news.  It seemed that Marcus might be revived.
       She clasped her hands tightly and stared out of the window.  She needed to make sure Susan was not about to make a big
mistake.

       "The Breen say the Drazi have been incurring on their space."
       "And have they?" Ivanova asked.
       "If the evidence the Breen have provided us with is true."
       The Entil'Zha sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes tiredly.
       "And we all know how reliable Breen evidence is," she sighed.  Opening her eyes she saw the Ranger still standing there.  "Thank
you.  That will be all."
       The Ranger bowed.
       "We live for the One.  We die for the One."
       As he left Nacroon moved round to the front of her desk from where he had been satnding, just behind Ivanvoa's right ear.
       "Why can't people just get on and live peacefully next to one another, Nacroon?" she complained.
       "I do not know, Entil'Zha.  Perhaps we should ask Serenn."
       "That'll teach me to ask a philosophical question in front of a Minbari," Ivanova muttered ruefully.  "If I wanted to hear about trees
falling in a forest and the sound of one hand clapping I'd go and join a monastry."
       The door to Ivanova's office clicked open.
       "Entil'Zha, President Delenn is here to see you," said the Ranger outside.
       Flashing a surprised glance at Nacroon Ivanova stood up to meet the President.
       "Madame President," she said, guesturing towards a chair.  "This is a pleasant surprise.  I wasn't expecting to see you until the
next security meeting."
       "No," Delenn said.  She glanced up at the impassive aide hovering behind Ivanova's ear.  "You might wish to be alone for this
conversation."
        Ivanova raised her eyebrows in surprise and nodded to Nacroon.  He left closing the door behind him.
        "Susan, Dr Franklin contacted me recently with some important information.  In his message he said that he had talked to you
about the possiblity of bringing Marcus back."
        Ivanova nodded.
        "I was wondering when you'd hear.  I didn't think Stephen would keep a thing like that secret for very long."
        "I don't wish to be offensive, but have you thought this through?"
        "I'm sorry?" Ivanova asked, somewhat incredulous.
        "Have you thought through the consequences of your actions?"
        "What do you mean?"  Delenn could see the brusque, irritable exterior reforming itself across Ivanova's features.
        "Have you thought through what will happen if this process hurts you?  From what Stephen tells me, the machine will take some
of your life energy and transfer it into Marcus.  It will make you both very ill, if it works at all.  If not, it will just make you very sick and
very unhappy."
        "I don't care."  Delenn frowned.  She wasn't getting through.
        "Susan, if you bring Marcus back, imagine what a jump he'll have to make.  He has been froxen for twenty years.  He died before
Earth was freed and before the Interstellar Alliance was formed."
        "He'll adjust."
        "Not only that but you have changed as well.  You're older, more experienced, and you are Entil'Zha.  Imagine what a shock that
will be."
        "I can't believe you're saying this!" Ivanova exclaimed.  "My first chance in over twnety years to find happiness and you're all trying
to stop me!  Delenn, I would do anything to have Marcus back, anything."
       "I know that you would," Delenn said, sitting forward and trying to look into Ivanova's eyes.  "That is why you could not rest all
these years.  You are a person who sees a problem and wants to do something about it.  This is one problem you can't solve."
       "Maybe I can't, but Stephen can."
       "You can't fight death, Susan.  Sooner or later, everyone dies.  And Marcus is dead."
       "That's not what you said when John went to Zha'Ha'Dum.  Everyone believed he was dead.  Not you.  You took White Stars out
looking for him, despite the danger.  And even after they came back with nothing you still believed.  You still hoped.  Well I'm hoping
now, Delenn.  Because, frankly, that's all I have left."
        Delenn searched her face with sorrowful eyes.  It was set like granite.
        "When this is all over," she said sadly, "we will still be here for you."  She turned and walked to the door.  She paused on the
threshold.
        "I hope you get what you hope for."
        Ivanova saw what might have been a tear glistening on her cheek but before she could ask about it Delenn was gone.

        The message was flashing away on her comm screen when she got in that night.  A transmission from Earth.
        "Susan, the machine's in working order, as far as we can tell.  You're welcome to come anytime you like."

To be continued...

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