From: "Aubrey W. Adkins" Subject: Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 29 of ---(WIP) Date: Thu, 05 Jul 2001 17:54:12 -0400 Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 29 of ---(WIP) Criticism is welcomed. Without, it there can't be any improvement. Address criticisms to [xazqrten@home.com] Think of this as a space opera. All characters/places/persons not belonging to the writer are the sole properties of their owners, PTEN, WB, JMS, and will be turned over to the owners at the request of their agents. All other characters/places/persons are public domain. Rated PG-10 (Vocabulary) "..." = spoken words <...> = telepathic speech [...] = one's own thoughts, internal (...) = to set off items such as acronyms immediately identified by the phrase they stand for. '...' = to set off odd items??? {...} = italics. *********************************************************************** Earlier that day, Lyta had been met by a young Japanese woman when she and Bob Bryson had exited the arrival gate of their flight. It had been ridiculously easy to get Bob through customs and immigration to his outbound flight that took him to a waiting ship in orbit over Tokyo. A few well-placed mental {suggestions} had allowed Bob to use one of his fake passports without anyone questioning him. Tokyo would be a dead end for anyone trying to track them via credit card usage or customs/immigration transactions. Before leaving the woman who had met them, Lyta emphasized that contrary to Bryson's orders, she didn't need anyone to keep an eye on her. "People trying to protect me could find themselves in situations they can't handle. If that happens they are on their own. I won't say this again - so tell me that you understand exactly what I mean, when I say trying to stay close to me can be extremely hazardous to your health - if not fatal." The young woman replied, "I understand trying to protect you could get me and my associates into situations that could lead to our severe injury or death, and that you will not be responsible." "As Garibaldi would say, you got it in one." ********************************************** Later that day in Lyta's hotel room: Lyta had taken a very relaxing hot water shower and was laying on the hotel bed watching the news. She didn't speak Japanese, but she had lifted enough from the minds of people she had come in contact with to get a working knowledge of it. Watching the news helped her reinforce that knowledge. She perked up and paid attention, after telling the display unit to record the news item. The announcer was voicing over an image of Susan Ivanova, at a state dinner, being honored for her leadership in saving the Mars colonies from destruction by the Drakh. She thought it odd that Bryson had not mentioned it when she arrived on Mars a month ago. As the news item continued, it showed Susan being presented a medal by President Luchenko. [That must gall Luchenko no end.] She was followed by the Minbari and the Mars ambassadors, both presenting Susan awards for her actions in combat and support services to wounded personnel. Captain Louise Harris was also honored for her lifesaving efforts on behalf of injured rangers from several different races. As she watched the item, Lyta felt immense pride that she could call Susan a friend. She didn't have many real friends, but all of them were very good people. Then the announcer belittled the story by going into a story about Susan being sued by Arkland family. At that point Lyta lost interest in the piece. After the news item ended, Lyta turned off the display and the lights. Lying back down, she relaxed and let her mind wander. In a few moments her senses were revealing what was happening in the street in front of her hotel. She smiled as she thought about the Vorlons who had the ability to do this remote sensing. Her fleeting smile was driven by her recognition that she was a thousand times better at it than they were. She could 'do a Lorien' and actually be on the remote spot while being undetectable to ordinary senses. She could even hide her presence from telepaths. She let her senses wander down the street, taking in everything that was happening. To her surprise, she found herself wanting to actually walk these streets. For some reason she had a taste for roast meat. Lyta got up and dressed in a snug fitting black pants and blouse outfit including her leather vest, and headed out of her hotel room, already tasting the food. An hour later after having ridden a half-dozen local trains and busses she found herself in one of the parts of Tokyo that were not recommended for savvy tourists. In fact, this section of the city wasn't even recommended for the local Japanese people. It was just what she was seeking, a place to wreck some havoc, without anyone in authority really caring. She was aware that she had been followed by several people. Even after the fiasco in San Francisco, Bryson apparently hadn't gotten it through his head that she could take care of herself. She had bought what could only be barbecued rat-on-a-stick. Watching her tearing off pieces with her teeth with obvious relish, one of her 'protectors' dumped the contents of her stomach into a pile of garbage. As her retching ended, she asked her associates, "How can she eat that. She must know what it is." "I'm sure she does" replied one of her male companions. "Our job is to watch her back, not approve of her eating habits." They became aware that Lyta was leading them down a very dark alley. She appeared to be completely unaware of her location, until a small group of men appeared out of the shadows in front of her. Her 'escorts' suddenly realized that their exit out of the alley was also blocked as more men appeared out of the shadows behind them. Lyta looked over the men in front of her. They were nondescript, and you could pass them on the street in the daytime and they would not stand out. Since they were not filthy, she decided that they were just people wanting to make a living without working. Their weapons seemed to consist of knives, a few PPGs and at least two slug throwers. They were a motley crew. She said nothing, waiting for the leader if there was one - and there always was - to identify himself by making demands. One of the men spoke to her in Japanese. She pretended that she didn't understand him. He tried American English. His was pretty good, which led her to believe he had numerous occasions to use it. Lyta didn't respond to the demand that had been spoken in American English, and this angered the gang leader. "Maybe you'll respond to pain?" At a hand motion by the leader, one of the gang stepped forward, and attempted to backhand Lyta across the face. His hand stopped just short of her cheek as if it had hit an invisible wall, and the man muffled a cry of pain as his fellow gang members heard bones in his hand break. The leader motioned, and another man threw a kick toward her head. Lyta never moved as the man's other leg gave way beneath him with a resounding snap. This time the broken bones elicited a definite outcry of intense pain. "Enough of this! Shoot the bitch!" Ordered the leader. A gang member pulled a PPG from a jacket pocket and aimed it at Lyta's head. Before he could pull the trigger, he found himself aiming the weapon at his leader's head. "What the hell are you doing? I said to shoot her." "I'm trying, but I can't move my arm or hand. If feels like someone is holding it in a vise." This conversation was being carried on in Japanese, but Lyta had no trouble following it. She was scanning the minds of the gang members and learning a lot about their activities. They had killed so many unfortunate people that they were an effective population control agency for the local area. The people who had been following Lyta were paying close attention to the conversations and the other events transpiring just ahead of them. They were realizing that they were in real danger. Another gang member stepped up the one holding the PPG and plunged a wicked looking knife into his belly. Then he ripped it across and up and down. The resulting cuts opened the thugs belly up allowing his sliced intestines to fall out on the filthy pavement. Without further delay the gang members fell to butchering one another. Blood and guts were spilling out all over the pavement, as Lyta's 'escorts' watched fascinated by the horror they were witnessing. The odors beginning to assault their nostrils caused the queasy female to start puking again, until she had nothing left in her stomach to upchuck. Several of her male associates were losing their stomach contents as well. Lyta continued to look at the gang leader. Then she asked in a quiet voice, "Exactly what was it you were demanding? As you can see, pain wasn't necessary to elicit a response from me. Don't you agree?" The gang leader's eyes were filled with terror. He managed to say, "I may have made a mistake." Lyta smiled and replied, "Yes, I believe you have. I think I can remedy that problem. We can't have you running around making mistakes like this in the future." Overhearing the conversation between the man and Lyta, her 'escorts' began to feel horror at her tone of voice, and the direction her statements were taking. They watched as one of the butchered gang members who was obviously dead pulled himself up from the pavement, and with the light glinting off the knife in his hand, drag himself in a horrifying shuffle up to stand beside his leader. The gang leader looked into the dead eyes of his former gang member and screamed at the top of his lungs as the knife the dead man was carrying found its way into his intestines, ripping and slashing back and forth and up and down until what spilled out onto the offal encased pavement looked like chopped sausage and smelled horrendous. Still smiling, Lyta looked into the dying man's eyes and said, "Now there we are. See, just as I said, you won't be making these kinds of mistakes again." As the last member of the gang fell to the filthy pavement, Lyta's 'escorts' frozen in place by the horror they had just witnessed, heard a soft voice in their heads, "Leave while you still can." Lyta stepped over and around the mess in the alley and continued on her way, ripping pieces of meat off her treat with gusto. Before the night was over, the previous scene or variations on it would be repeated all over this part of the city. It would be some time before the criminal element felt any safety plying their trade in the area. Her lack of remorse at what she had just done should have bothered her, but she chided herself when she considered that she had not actually done anything. She had only redirected the thugs actions at their associates. ************************************* 0700 in a Tokyo back alley: "What do we have here, Sergeant Yeng?" Asked police Lieutenant Lee. "Holding his nose, Sergeant Yeng replied, "It looks like they butchered one another, Lieutenant. They had PPGs and slug throwers, but only knives were used. It wasn't an easy was to die." "I assume there are no witnesses." "None that we've been able to find. Truth is, Sir, we at first thought it might be the result of a gang fight, but all these men are members of the same gang, and it is evident that they did it to themselves. If there had been another gang involved, the PPGs and slug throwers would have been used." "You do know that this isn't an isolated incident, don't you, Sergeant?" "Yes Sir. We have heard the reports of at least a dozen more since we started this morning." "What do you think, Sergeant? Do we have someone moving in and trying to take over? I mean, if we do, how are they managing this?" "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but I don't have a clue." "Wrap this up, and get a report to me as soon as possible, and get a team down here to remove this mess." As an afterthought, Sergeant Yeng asked, "Do you think the department would spring for hiring whoever is responsible for this?" "What, and put us out of a job? Not likely," answered Lee. ************************************** 0800 in an office in a better part of Tokyo: "She told you what?" "She projected into our thoughts and told us to get out while we still could." "The six of you just meekly left. Is that about it?" "Mister Long, you didn't see what she did to those guys. When she got done there were guts, blood and gore everywhere." "You will shadow the woman, whether she likes it or not. That is an order." "With all due respect, Mister Long, We quit. If you want her followed, you do it. We watched her make twenty men butcher one another, one was dead, and she made him get up and cut the guts out of the leader, and she did it while eating a damned barbecued rat-on-a-stick. She never stopped chewing, except to talk to the leader just before he was killed. No Sir. You want her shadowed, you do it." Incensed, Niksi Long called two of his best muscle-men in and dispatched them to bring Lyta Alexander to his office, even if they had to bring her in kicking and screaming. *********************************** On the planet Glenthor: Maya Alexander had worked very hard to fit into her classes. She had been nice to her classmates, even though some of them treated her rather badly. She didn't liked being called names, but she ignored it. Her refusal to rise to her classmates ridicule had seemed only to enrage them and cause them to redouble their efforts. Her class work had been pitifully simple, and Maya spent most of her classroom time surreptitiously using her portable computer. That it was more advanced than any of the computers used by the school had gone all but unnoticed. The headmaster had known and approved her use of it. In the back of his mind, he hoped to be able to get something like it for school use. He had been keeping an eye on the Alexander girl. Her being human made her an easy target for her classmates and the inevitable class bullies. He liked the fact that she never returned the abuse. She continued to help anyone who needed extra help with their class work when they asked for it, even some of the children who picked on her. He had to admit that she was keeping her word to her mother, and she was setting a sterling example for her classmates and even the older children. "Why do you put up with the stuff that Kile does to you, Maya?" Asked her friend Sila. "Responding in kind would accomplish nothing, Sila. By not responding, I make him look silly. He can't win. Besides, I really don't care what the others think of me. I know who and what I am and what I can do." "And just what are you?" "I'm the smartest person in this school. After that, nothing else matters." "Why do you help Kile with his school work?" "I do it because it shows everyone that I am smarter that he is. As far as I'm concerned that makes me better than him." "Is that why you work with me?" "No. I work with you because I like you and you are my friend. Besides, you are smarter than Kile. You are smarter than everyone else in class except me. I mean that as a compliment, Sila. You are ahead of all the others in our classes." Her friend considered that statement and believed her. She had seen Maya reading stuff on her computer screen in languages never seen or heard of on Glenthor, and she read it many times faster that she had ever seen anyone at school read anything. She kept what she had seen to herself. Maya was a good friend. She wished she could be more like her. She knew as did most of the other children that every week Maya had to take some kind of tests that no one else had to take. When she and her classmates had asked about this, they were told it was something that Maya's mother required. Maya had been studying the minds of the children and adults around her. It was interesting to note the different ways their brains handled information, depending on the age of the person receiving the information. There were no Glenthorian telepaths, so she didn't have to worry about anyone becoming aware of what she was doing. She liked these people as a population, but there were individuals she would not have missed if they had left and never returned. After several weeks of abuse she had decided to do something about it. "Good morning, Freak," said Nigel Gloth. He was a third grader that had taken it upon himself to be Maya's personal tormentor. This morning he made the mistake of shoving Maya to the ground. From her position on the ground, Maya glared at Nigel. "What are you going to do about it, Freak?" Maya decided in a second, and entered Nigel's mind. He was unaware of this event. He only noticed that he felt a headache coming on. The more he railed at her the worse the headache became. Finally, he started to walk away. Maya waited until Nigel had walked about five meters before she began to get to her feet. Nigel turned to see her getting up and said, "I never said you could get up, Freak." He felt his head start to pound. Furious at the human female he started back toward her. As the distance between them decreased, his headache intensified. By the time he had come within one meter of her, his head hurt so badly he couldn't even see where she was. Innocently, Maya asked, "Are you okay, Nigel." Without answering, Nigel started to run toward the school's nurse's station. By the time he got there, his headache was almost gone. When the nurse called him into her office he told her he had a headache, but it had gone away. The nurse said nothing except that should he feel it coming back, he should return. "Why do you take that from him, Maya?" Asked Sila. "Don't worry about it. I don't think he will be pushing me around anymore." "What makes you so sure of that?" "Just a feeling, that's all." Sila observed over the next few weeks that Nigel did not push Maya around anymore. She also noticed that every time Nigel laid into Maya, his headache returned with a vengeance. Somewhere inside, she knew Maya was somehow responsible. She had no idea how, but Nigel's reactions when he tried to pick on Maya were just to convenient to be coincidence. She never asked Maya about her suspicions. The headmaster had called a meeting of Maya's teachers a month after she had been admitted to discuss the human child. I think we should get a feeling for how she is fitting in with our other students. She is alone, in being th only non-Glenthorian student in the school. Who wants to be the first?" Miss Egnla, Maya's councilor and house mother, was the first. "She seems to fit nicely into the campus lifestyle. She shares a room with student Sila Hather. It is alway neat and clean. They study well together, and I haven't heard a cross word between them. I have caught Maya staying up very late using her portable computer. I'm not surprised though considering she has weekly tests she must take. For information purposes, just what is she studying, anyway? I have seen the computer display several times, but I don't recognize anything I have seen on it." "I'm not surprised Hlelna. Most of what she is studying is beyond anything we teach here," replied the headmaster. "I don't suppose you could show us an example of what she studies?" Asked Mister Dhan Henton, Maya's math teacher. "Yes, I can, but don't blame me if it doesn't make any sense," replied the headmaster. The general discussion lasted thirty standard minutes, and then the headmaster set up a small projection unit. "This unit was provided for us to project the questions for Maya during the tests that accompany each set of crystals. The one I'm going to show you was the first one she completed." After viewing some of the data crystal's contents, the headmaster asked, "Do any of you have any real idea what we just saw? Now I'm going to show you the questions." He put in a second crystal and started projecting the contents on the wall. It was a list of questions, all in the various Glenthorian languages. The staff members read the questions and wondered what they meant. They couldn't read all of them due to the various languages being used. "This is what Maya must read and answer to prove that she understands the material presented on the first crystal. She must answer five-hundred questions covering all aspects of the study material. If she gets even one answer wrong, she must restudy and retest on the material, answering a different battery of questions." "Why is she even going to school here? She is obviously beyond anything we can teach her," noted Henton. "She is going to school here because her mother wants her to learn the social skills she will need in everyday life. She feels that being exposed to children her own biological age will enhance her skills," replied the headmaster. "While she is here she gets treated like a child her age. So far she seems to be adapting. I note that she is quite adept at helping her slower classmates." "Sometimes she seems condescending about assignments," complained Maya's language arts teacher. "How would you behave if you were forced to sit in a kindergarten class?" Asked Henton. "She behaves herself and helps her classmates. I think she is doing just fine," commented the headmaster. "We will review her situation again in a month or so. I really don't expect any trouble. I also think that the opportunity she gives our other students to be exposed to a real live alien is invaluable." ********************************* 0800 in Lyta's hotel room: The pleasure was sweeping over her. The strong arms of the Minbari warrior were holding her tightly, just barely below the crush level of her ribs. She was kissing him and feeding back his pleasure on him until he was barely conscious. His thrusting increased in intensity even though his awareness was almost gone. As he finished, she released his mind and he was swept through pure ecstasy into unconsciousness. Lyta felt him slowly release her and she pulled away from him. She opened her eyes only to find herself alone in her hotel bed sweating profusely. She had again dreamed of her last experience with Sheraun, and now she was lying on her back, breathing as hard as she would after extensive heavy lovemaking. She was fooling herself that she didn't need anyone. She might not need him, but he would surely make life much more pleasant. Shaking off the last remnants of the dream, she hit the shower and let the hot water run down her sweaty body. She thought about the night before and was disappointed. It had been fun enough when she was doing it, but somehow it had no lasting effects. True, there were a few less thugs in Tokyo, but that was only temporary. The lure of easy money would bring in their replacements in short order. She also wondered where her liaison was. The woman should have been knocking on her door by 0700. She had finished her long slow shower and was just putting on her underwear when the knock on the door sounded. "One minute!" she shouted, then went to the closet and selected her standard black slacks, blouse and leather vest. The knock came again. This time is was more insistent. "I said, wait a minute!" Buttoning her blouse, a now irritated Lyta Alexander opened her room door. Two rather large men immediately pushed their way into the room. "Who are you?" "Are you Marsha Benton?" Asked one of the men, using the name Lyta was using in Tokyo. "What if I am? I asked who you are. I expect an answer." "You expect nothing. We are taking you to see Mister Long," said the man. "What if I don't want to go?" "You don't have any choice. We can do this easy or hard. Personally I'm hoping for hard." "Really. Well, who am I to disappoint you?" The man reached for Lyta's left arm. Before he could reach her, he appeared to jump as if he had been shocked. His face began to sweat and a look of pain worked its way across his face. "Is this as good for you as it is for me?" Asked Lyta. "I don't want you to be disappointed." The second man looked at his partner and at Lyta. "What are you doing to him?" "I'm giving him what he said he wanted. Do you want some?" The man reached into his back pocket and pulled what appeared to be a leather container filled with shot. Lyta smiled. It had been a long time since she had seen one of them. It was an old fashioned blackjack. "If that's what you want, it's all right by me. Why don't you hand that to your friend?" The man handed the blackjack to his partner, who looking terrified, took the weapon and immediately smashed him across his mouth. "Does that feel as good as you expected. I mean, I wouldn't want to disappoint you. Now you take it, and return your friends generosity. Within five minutes the men had reduced one another to bloody messes. "It is impolite to bleed on someone's carpet. I'll have the hotel send the cleaning bill to your boss. Now if you don't mind, lead the way to your boss. He and I have some talking to do." Everyone in the lobby stared at the two men, bloody from head to foot walking in front of the gorgeous redhead as they exited to the sidewalk in front of the hotel. The doorman signaled a taxi for them. As Lyta waited for the taxi, she told the doorman, "Tell the desk that room 1202 has blood on the carpet, and it should be cleaned before the stain dries." ******************************************** 0930 in an office in a better part of Tokyo: People in the office looked on in shock as Lyta walked down the passageway between their cubes. What had gotten their attention was the buzz caused by the two men walking in front of her. They were leaving blood spots wherever they walked on the carpet. They came to a halt in front of Niksi Long's secretary's desk. "I'm here to see Mister Long," said Lyta. She and the two men were ushered into Long's office. She looked at Long and immediately developed a dislike for him. She looked around the office and saw that it had a fully functional long haul communications interface. Long stared at his musclemen and then looked at Lyta. "Just what is this supposed to be?" "They told me that you said to bring me here, kicking and screaming if necessary. I see in your mind that is exactly what you told them. However, you didn't specify who was supposed to be kicking and screaming," Lyta shot back at him. "You warned my people to leave while they still could last night, and earlier in the day you warned Miss Chong to make sure no one shadowed you. You don't give my people orders. I don't care if you do know Garibaldi." "Please put through a call to him. We will see if I erred, or not?" "Miss whatever your name is, you don't tell me what to do." "It was a request, but have it your way." She thought for a minute and the communications panel began to function. Long looked at her confused at what was happening. It took almost a minute for him to regain his composure. He started to move to shut the system down, and found that he couldn't move. "It was a request. Now it's not." "You can't do this!" The bloody men standing across the room, said as one, "Oh yes she can." Long looked at them again. It finally became obvious, even to him, that she was probably responsible for his men's conditions. The communications panel changed its display to show a middle-aged woman who asked, "How may I help you?" "I'm trying to reach Michael Garibaldi," answered Lyta. "Whom shall I say is calling?" "Just tell him, Lyta." A few seconds later the woman's image vanished to be replaced by Michael Garibaldi's. He was looking perplexed. "What's the problem, Lyta?" It only took her two minutes to explain her call. At the end of which he directed one question to Long, "Is this correct?" Long hesitated too long for his own good. "I take your silence as a yes. You can collect your pay, Mister Long. We no longer need your services. Lyta, thanks for letting me handle it. Your way would generate too many questions." "I aim to please, Michael." "Speaking of which, how long will it be before you get back here? Also, I saw Bryson late last night. That's a damned good repair job." "I'll be finished in about three more weeks, if nothing else goes wrong. However, Michael, I won't be seeing you in person again. I'm going to disappear in a manner of speaking when I'm finished. You'll hear about it on the news. Now, tell me about this lawsuit thing Susan is involved in?" "I'll have one of my people put you in contact with her attorney before you do your Houdini act." "Take care, Michael." Garibaldi broke the circuit. *********************************** In Garibaldi's office on Mars: "You heard. Long disregarded our instructions, and almost got several of our people killed. If I hadn't fired him, who knows what punishment Lyta would have come up with. It wouldn't have been pleasant. What's going on with her, Bob? I don't like the sound of that disappearing act thing." "I don't know. I spent a month with her, not counting my time in the hospital, and I learned a lot that will be useful, Mike, but I honestly don't have a clue." "Our Tokyo office sent up some interesting police data from last night." "What kind of data?" "I'll show you in a minute, but first I have some pictures I want you to look at." He then passed one of two forty-eight by sixty-two centimeter envelopes to Bryson. Bryson pulled the flimsies out of the envelop and realized they were pictures of medical scans. "Who's are these?" "Yours. Look at them in numerical order. They were taken during your recent stay in that San Francisco hospital. I find them fascinating." Bryson studied them thoughtfully. "Looking at the first one, I would have to ask how could anyone survive injuries like those?" "I have to ask, how did you live long enough to fall to the pavement? I have pictures of the little girl's injuries in the other envelope. Would you care to see them. They're even more interesting than yours, but the cake-taker is the results of the blood tests they ran on the two of you. Pay particular attention to tha data." "What's the point. Mike?" "You hustled back here pretty quickly. Why did you leave Lyta?" Bryson sat looking at Michael for a long minute rapidly blinking his eyes. It was a facial tic that Michael had long ago learned to associate with Bob's not wanting to discuss a subject. "Lyta said that people would be looking for me because of my 'miraculous' recovery, and that it wasn't safe for me on Earth anymore. Besides, she was beginning to scare the hell out of me, Mike. I've been scared before. I lived with the fear of immediate death everyday during the rebellion. But frankly, she terrifies me." Getting up to pace around his office like a big jungle cat, Michael responded, "Really! And you believed her? Where is your brain, Bob? While you were with her, nothing and nobody would have been able to do any permanent harm to you. San Francisco proves that. Look at yourself in the damned mirror... and how did you get back here so fast?" "PADL, pure dumb ass luck, Mike. I caught a transport that was leaving Earth orbit for Mars about an hour before it left. I was back here before supper. Lyta just walked me up to the customs and immigratio people in Tokyo spaceport, and they stamped my passport and waved me through." As they talked, Bryson stepped in front of the full length mirror that adorned the back of the door to Michael's office. "Now, open your shirt. I want you to look at your chest." As Bryson opened his shirt, Garibaldi fitted a data crystal into a socket on his desktop. "What do you see?" "Just my chest." "Watch the video," said Michael tossing a data pad to Bryson. "And then, read those reports." Bryson could see that Michael was upset. In fact, he was getting pissed-off, seeming hell- bent on working himself into a lather. Bob finished reading the data pad information and was studying the pictures that accompanied the reports. "My God, Michael. The alleys looks like the floors of mismanaged slaughterhouses. Are you saying she is responsible for this carnage?" "Now, that should bother you, because it's the way she would do it. She would, simply, mentally give them some guidance, and watch the blood flow. She's not very forgiving of people who want to do her harm, and she's seen enough horrible deaths that the carnage in those pictures isn't going to bother her." "What does that have to do with us?" "Did you pay attention to what Lyta said a few minutes ago?" "Yes. What she's doing is about as ruthless as anything I can imagine.?" Working his head around like he was trying not to be sick, Bryson continued, "She put images in my mind trying to explain herself, her relation to the Psi Corps, Vorlons, Shadows and to the powers to be on Babylon 5. It was enough to make me feel sympathetic toward her, but after seeing the pictures from Tokyo, I think she is the coldest and most compassionless person I've ever met, and like I said, she terrifies me. And if I didn't have reason enough to feel that way before, I do now!" Seething at Bryson's sudden inability to deal with what he saw as cold reality, Garibaldi exploded, "For God's sakes Bob, grow up! The people who care for her are cared for. Hell, even people who don't care for her are cared for. You're a prime example. The people who intend her harm are harmed themselves. That 'ruthless symmetry' appeals to me. I've watched her over the years, and it has cost her... dearly. But, damn it, she deserves respect and has earned - from me at least - admiration." "Sometimes, I wonder if I really know you, Mike!" Shot back Bryson, on the defensive. "Don't give me that crap, Bob! I showed that video and those medical pictures to several of our doctors day before yesterday. Want to know what the told me? After watching the video, they said that all four of the people who were shot were dead before they hit the pavement. It seems they don't watch the network news, or any other news programs for that matter. When I told them the only fatality was the fellow who lost his head, they said I had to be out of my mind. Either that or the video was a fake, and we both know it isn't a fake. When they saw the medical pictures and the other data, they were at a complete loss for any explanation. Did you find any holes in your chest?" "No!" Replied Bryson, irritation and defensiveness in his voice. "Of course not. Now watch the display." Then he replayed the video. Bryson watched the display and saw the same scenes he had already seen before. "I still don't see your point." "All things considered, I find that to be very damned odd! If not for her, you would be fertilizing grass by now! How can you still claim to be terrified of her?" "I don't know, unless it is the way she wants me to feel After all, who, in their right mind, is going to get close to someone who terrifies them. It could be her way of making me or anyone else keep his distance. It's as if she doesn't want anyone close to her." "That's pure crap, Bob! Susan Ivanova, Delenn Sheridan and I are all close to her, or at least as close as anyone, except Sheraun or Maya is likely to get. She saved you, Bob! Why? What did she have to gain? There isn't one good reason for her to do that! She saved that child! Why? Surely, she had even less reason to save her than she did to save you! I've known Lyta Alexander for about ten years now. I've never trusted telepaths. Hell I trust very few people at all, but I have always trusted her. Ask me why, and I'll tell you I don't know. But there is one thing that is a fact, and that is that she has never let me down. When the crap hit the fan, she was there and helped me duck." "She's a cold-blooded killer, Mike!" "And that bothers you, why?" "Mike, she killed a fellow in New York by causing him to trip over his shoelaces and hit his head on the corner of his secretary's desk." "How do you know she did it.?" "She zonked out on me on the street in front of your cousin's restaurant, at exactly the same time the guy was being 'accidentally' iced." "And that proves exactly what?" "She never gave me an explanation." "Big deal, Bob. If every time I had a thought that distracted me in public, I was accused of killing someone, who happened to die somewhere in the city, I'd have probably been mind-wiped or even executed long ago. Jesus Christ, Bob. I'd think after San Francisco, you'd at least give her the benefit of the doubt." "Well she did explain that he had a couple of mild to serious heart attacks and bypass surgery within the last two years. She even explained how giving him a heart attack would be attributed to natural causes." "If you were in her place, would you go with the fancy shoelace scenario, or for a simple acceptable heart attack in his sleep? One thing is for sure, Bob. She may or may not have been responsible, but you can bet that when she offs the rest of them, she'll be in another city or even on another continent. Hell, she could even be off the planet." "Let's talk about something a bit more pleasant, Mike." "How did Lyta react to meeting her family?" "She said they weren't her family, and that we made a mistake." "There was no mistake, Bob. That was her family. Did she say what was wrong?" "No, only that they didn't know her, and they denied having a daughter named Lyta, or that their name had ever been Alexander." "I won't try to guess what went wrong, but you should know that Lyta's an expert liar. Just don't tell her that to her face." "I have a list of targets we were working with, but she added a whole bunch of new names to it. I think that there is going to be a slaughter before she is finished." "She does take a dim view of people who try to kill her or have her killed. She is just not the forgive and forget type." "I got that impression." "She's only a hazard to those who intend her harm. It can't be that bad, after all, she was eating when it happened." "I'm almost afraid to ask, what is rat-on-a-stick?" "Exactly what it says. They skin and gut a rat, push a stick through him lengthwise, slop barbecue sauce on him and roast his carcass over a large hibachi. It isn't considered high class cuisine. Lyta does have some different tastes." "Remind me to never buy her a pet rat for a present." ************************************************ END PART 29 From: "Aubrey W. Adkins" Subject: Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 30 of ---(WIP) Date: Fri, 11 Aug 2000 23:38:27 -0500 Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 30 of ---(WIP) Criticism is welcomed. Without, it there can't be any improvement. Address criticisms to [xazqrten@home.com] Think of this as a space opera. All characters/places/persons not belonging to the writer are the sole properties of their owners, PTEN, WB, JMS, and will be turned over to the owners at the request of their agents. All other characters/places/persons are public domain. Rated PG-10 (Vocabulary) "..." = spoken words <...> = telepathic speech [...] = one's own thoughts, internal (...) = to set off items such as acronyms immediately identified by the phrase they stand for. '...' = to set off odd items??? {...} = italics. *********************************************************************** "It's been a long day, Miss Chong, considering that we got such a late start. I want to get an early start tomorrow morning. I'll expect you about 0700," said Lyta. "I'll be there, Miss Alexander. May I ask, is that your real name?" "Will you be disappointed if it is?" "I was made to understand that you and Mister Bryson would be using false documents." "Who told you that?" "Mister Long." "Mister Long talks too much. I'll have to break him of that." "How are you going to do that? "You don't want to know." "I'll see you at 0700 tomorrow, Miss Alexander." "Miss Chong, Alexander is my real name, but when you come to the hotel, I'm registered as Phyllis O'Bannion. I'm in room 1202, but they might move me since the carpet had blood on it, and needed extensive cleaning." ********************************* In Lyta's hotel room after supper: Lyta watched the early news just after eating supper in her room and turned in. She had a lot of mental work to do, and she liked to close her eyes and relax before starting. Her first order of business to wipe Mister Long's mind of any knowledge of her and her activities. She found him easily. He was at his favorite bar nursing his latest drink. Since his dismissal that morning he had been drinking rather steadily, although not heavily. He wasn't totally drunk, but he was feeling no pain. He wasn't even aware when Lyta entered his mind and deftly removed a number of memories. She saw that he had been planning to use his knowledge to make trouble for her and Garibaldi's business interests. When she finished, he didn't even remember being employed by Garibaldi's firm. She spent quite a while visiting the minds of all the people she had been to 'see' that day. As in all the other cities she had implanted an instruction for each of them to think very intensely of a different series of objects in a repeated order when she sent them the proper command. This would allow her to easily find any of them no matter where they were on the planet. Once she found them she could insert any series of commands she might want them to follow. She was determined that when she departed Earth, her visit would be remembered for a very long time. Before she fell asleep, Lyta tried to find Susan's mind. She just wanted to make sure everything was going well for her. She narrowed her mental senses to look for the mental patterns of her friend. It took a lot of concentration and what she found shook her to her core. She found a mind that felt exactly like Susan's, but with very subtle differences. She very lightly touched the mind trying to determine what she was dealing with. It was almost unreal. To a normal telepath, this mind would look exactly like Susan's in its thought patterns. She began to scan the mind and was shocked at her discovery. ******************************* In a middle class home in the Russian Consortium on Earth: The woman awakened from a light sleep. She was sure she had heard a noise somewhere in the lower floor of the modest house. "She shook her husband. "Mickey! Someone is downstairs!" Her husband continued to sleep. She shook him very vigorously, but he didn't awaken. Frustrated she got up and put on her housecoat and went downstairs. Following the noise of movements she approached the kitchen warily. The kitchen light was on. She was a telepath, but she could feel no thoughts coming from the area of the kitchen. She was just a bit frightened because even a psi cop would be detectable at this range. Stepping into the doorway, she didn't know what to expect, but it surely wasn't the sight that greeted her. There in her kitchen was a young redheaded female looking through her cabinets. "Find what you are looking for yet?" "No," answered the young woman, continuing her search. "Do you have any coffee or tea?" Whatever answer she had expected, this wasn't it. "Why are you in my home?' "I thought it might be interesting to talk with you. You are an interesting person." "I could shoot you, and no one would ask me any questions." "That wouldn't be very nice, but go ahead and shoot me, if it'll make you feel any safer." The woman was perplexed. This intruder wasn't acting like any intruder she had ever heard of. Odd, though, she did look familiar. She tried to recall where she had seen her before, but wasn't successful. "Who are you?" The redhead smiled, "My name is Lyta Alexander, and yours is?" "If you don't leave, I'll call my husband down here." Lyta smiled at her, "He won't hear you. He is sawing logs. I really could use a cup of coffee or tea." "You said I was interesting. Why?" "Your thought patterns are virtually identical to those of a very good friend of mine. I was trying to reach her when I encountered your thought patterns. I found them intriguing." "You were the telepath on the video during the telepath war." "That's me. However, I was only a figurehead. You never did tell me your name." "You scanned me. Didn't you find it then?" "I didn't do a full scan on you. I only touched your mind enough to realize that you felt a lot like my friend. In fact, you seem to think the two of you are not just related, but are identical twins. Susan damned sure doesn't know she has a sister, if that's what you are." "I'm sorry. My name is Sofie Gorkov. I was named after our mother. Even our mother never knew of my existence. She never knew she was carrying twins." "I don't understand." "Mother was a telepath. A group of rogue telepath sympathizers arranged for one of us to be taken without our parents knowledge. It was a long shot that either of us would have the gene, since our brother didn't have it. It does seem to occur more often in females than males, but usually the males are stronger than we are, with a few exceptions." "How did you learn all this?" "My parents, the couple who raised me, told me about the time I turned ten years old. They explained very carefully about why it was done, and why I could never contact any members of my family. I was devastated when I learned about my biological mother's death and how it came to happen. I have a real hatred for Psi Corps and the new thought police." "How have you managed to hide all these years?" "The same way my husband did after he went rogue from the corps. He was a psi cop, too. We have lived as mundanes and have never used our abilities. We work at routine jobs, and no one is the wiser. Who's going to look for a rogue psi cop in a real estate office or a telepath in an interior decorating company. It's just too absurd to imagine, because the psi cops couldn't imagine a powerful telepath not using his or her abilities for personal gain." "So you hid in plain sight. It's so simple, yet effective." "It complies with the KISS principle. Keep it simple stupid." Lyta smiled a smile of genuine pleasure as Sofie poured two steaming cups of coffee. "Black will be just fine." "Now that you know my secret, what are you going to do with it?" "Nothing. It's none of my business. You're entitled to live your lives however you wish, as far as I'm concerned. You have made a comfortable life for yourselves without using your abilities, that takes a lot of control." "I have two children, both of whom have the abilities. It is difficult to make them understand how important it is to never let anyone know what they are." "It doesn't have to be that way. I know a place where you and your family will be welcomed, and you won't have to worry about the thought police unless you actually commit a crime." "I gather this place is not within the Earth Alliance." "No, it's not. Your talents - both the telepathic one and your other talents - could be put to good use there." "Can I think abut it?" "For as long as you wish." Lyta and Sofie made small talk about their children for some time before Lyta had to leave. "This is where you can reach me, if you ever want to accept my offer." She handed Sofie a business card. "It's time you went back upstairs and went to sleep." Sofie laid the card next to her empty coffee cup and went back upstairs. Sofie awakened about a minute before her alarm went off. She shook her husband. He awoke and looked at her. "Is it time to get up already?" "Yes, Mickey. I had a visitor last night." Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he asked, "You what, when?" "Last night, I heard a noise coming from downstairs. I couldn't wake you up, so I went down and checked it out myself. You aren't going to believe this, but it was a young redheaded female from North America, I believe." "What you had was a dream, Sofie. If there had been a stranger downstairs, the dog would have raised hell. Did you hear him barking?" "No. If it was a dream, it certainly was the most realistic dream I've ever had. Hell, I even dreamed I made fresh coffee for the two of us." "Who did she say she was?" "Lyta Alexander. You remember, the telepath that was on the video during the telepath war." "I doubt that you saw her. There's a warrant out for her arrest. I heard through the grapevine that she was something else, but it was all rumors." "I'll have breakfast ready in about twenty minutes," she said, getting out of bed. His wife had been gone downstairs barely long enough to have reached the kitchen when he heard her yell, "Mickey! Come down here!" Walking into the kitchen, he asked, "What's up?" Sofie pointed to the two cups sitting on the table and the card laying beside what had been her cup. "If I had a dream then it is the most realistic dream anyone has ever had. Those cups aren't a dream." Mickey moved to pick up the card. "It's a business card. It says "Lyta Alexander" and gives the Glenthorian embassy as a point of contact. I don't know how, but that was no dream. Dreams don't leave dirty coffee cups and business cards." "How did she come through locked doors and not wake up the dog?" Her husband just gave her a confused look. ****************************** In Lyta's hotel room: Lyta was enjoying the breakfast in her room when the doorbell rang. It was Miss Chong. "Good morning Miss Chong. Care for some breakfast?" Chong took a piece of toast and spread butter and jelly on it. Miss Alexander, my first name is Nikki. Please call me that." "I can do that, Nikki. Call me Phyllis in public, since that is the name I'm using here. In private feel free to call me Lyta. We have a very busy day ahead of us. ******************************* In a weapons storage facility somewhere in North America: The colonel walked up to the desk that had been pointed out as belonging to the head of the logistics section of the facility. "Good morning Major Harper," he said reading the name plate on the desktop corner. Looking up to see who had addressed him, Major Harper replied, "Good morning Colonel. What can I do for you today?" "Have you received the request for the weapon yet?" "Yes Sir. I got it late yesterday afternoon. It took a while, but I had the request authenticated before I started the process to have it pulled and prepared for transportation. I understand you will take possession here and use your own team to transport it." "That's correct, Major. I'm curious about the whole thing. My orders are to transport it and install it in the Nevada facility number four." "I thought your people just pulled out the original one about eight months ago. Word was that the facility was being shut down." "It was. Except for a caretaker crew. All the dangerous stuff was removed more than two years ago, or at least that was the official word. But... you know how that can be when the black bag boys get involved." "I'm curious. The one you removed was only twenty kilotons, but the one you are picking up is two megatons. That's one hell of an increase in yield." "You're curious? Welcome to the club. I'm as surprised as you are. That's enough kick to dig a respectable hole in the dirt. I think the less I know about this operation, or whatever it is, the better." "The weapon and container are waiting at pickup area two. Pleasant trip, Colonel." "I just want it to be a safe one. Have a nice day, Major." "I'll consider that an order, Colonel," said the major to the already receding back of the colonel. ******************************* In front of Lyta's hotel: "Would you like to show me some of the night life of Tokyo before I have to leave? I am led to believe that there numerous dance clubs where a girl can dance and drink the night away, and have someone else pay for it." "Are you serious?" "Don't tell me you can't imagine me ever enjoying myself. After all, I am a person, contrary to what you may have heard." "Somehow, I can't picture you dancing and laughing. It doesn't fit with the person I've been working with these last couple of days." "It was only a thought. I'll go by myself. It'll be safer that way. If I had to worry about your safety, it would detract from the purpose of the effort." "Somehow I feel belittled and insulted." "No more than I. I do enjoy the same things other people enjoy, a good meal, dancing, sharing a drink with a friend. Hell, I'm even a mother, and no that isn't part of a hyphenated phrase." "If you really want to, I'll come back around about 2100. That's early, but it'll give us time to check out a couple of places I know. Several of them are in a seeder part of town. One is near the area where you had the run with the gang." "I'll be ready. Any apparel suggestions?" "You have a very good figure. Wear something that accents it. A short loose skirt that is snug about the waist and hips and a tight blouse will do nicely, and high heels to show off your legs. You look like you have a body that younger women would kill for, accent it." Lyta watched her walk away toward the underground. She went into the hotel lobby and asked the desk clerk where she could find a chic clothing store. ******************************** In a nondescript office in a nondescript office building: The voice from the panel almost sounded like a snake trying to speak passable North American English. "We know she is on the planet. We have other sources, and they have confirmed this." "I have seen the monitor videos and agree someone fitting her description arrived on Earth more than a month ago. However, she has kept a low profile. We believe she may have been in San Francisco as recently as this last week. It appears that she may be using a new identity and credit cards in each city and country she is passing through. It is difficult to keep a tail on her." "Your efforts are not sufficient. We have engaged others to find and deal with her," hissed the unseen speaker." "If you believe the recordings shown on the news, dealing with her may be more difficult than you think." "That is not your concern," said the hissing voice, then the circuit was broken. ************************************ 2100 hours in front of Lyta's hotel: "Are you ready to party?" Asked Nikki. "I think so. Jaws dropped as I walked across the lobby. You wouldn't think that a black and white silk outfit could have such an effect on men." Looking Lyta's outfit over, Nikki replied, "The black mini dress, white see-through blouse and black silk vest is killer. The missing bra is icing on the outfit. I noticed that you jiggle very little. How do you manage it?" "I insisted on a no-jiggle warranty when I got them. Rather nice, don't you think?" "You are going to have a lot of men drooling all over the place and trying to pick you up." "I only go home with my Minbari boyfriend." "Minbari boyfriend?" "Yep." Nikki shook her head and said, "Let's get this show on the road." Lyta and Nikki headed for the underground entrance, not noticing a pair of men move out of the shadows on the other side of the street and headed for the entrance located there. ********************************* In the Dance Dungeon Night Club: "Now you see why I brought ear protection," said Nikki shouting to be heard over the throbbing music." With her ear plugs in position, Lyta had difficulty hearing anything Nikki was saying. "I can't hear you!" Shouted Lyta. Nikki shook her head in reply. said the voice in Nikki's head. It had been very clear and easy to hear. Then she realized she hadn't really heard it. Nikki looked shocked. she thought. They spent the next two hours dancing with several young me and enjoying the drinks they bought. Lyta had made it plain to the men that dancing and drinks is all there was. Four hours and three clubs later, they were in their fourth club and having a good time. They were between dances and enjoying their drinks at the bar. Lyta was enjoying her drink and watching those on the dance floor when a man who had been badgering her to dance with him grabbed her by the arm. He was a tall man of obvious European descent. He was squeezing Lyta's arm very hard. The club bouncers saw what was transpiring and moved to intervene. Before they could reach Lyta and the man, she reached up and grabbed his throat. The response was immediate. He stopped breathing and released her arm, however, she didn't release his throat. She squeezed it until his larynx began to collapse, first he lost consciousness then he lost control of his bodily functions as he came very close to death. As the smell of the fecal release started to permeate the immediate area, Lyta released him and let him collapse into a heap on the floor. By this time the bouncers had managed to reach them. "I'm sorry, Miss," said the lead bouncer. "We got here as quickly as we could.' "No problem," yelled Lyta over the music. "He's not a problem anymore. He won't be a problem in the future either." "Get him out of here!" yelled the lead bouncer to two of his colleagues. As they dragged the fellow away, the lead bouncer continued, "How can you be sure he won't ever be a problem here again?" "I guarantee it!" Yelled Lyta, handing the bouncer one of her business cards. "If he ever shows up here again of his own volition, just contact me through this outfit. I'll send you a credit chit worth a thousand credits." The man looked at her, shook his head and walked away. queried Nikki. Lyta's demonstration was lost on the patrons in the noise and dancing inside the club, except for two men watching from across the dance area. They had been following her and Nikki all night. Because of the crowds and the fact that the men kept their thoughts neutral, Lyta wasn't aware of being watched. It was almost 0330 when Nikki and Lyta elected to call it a night. Nikki was feeling the effects of the alcohol she had ingested while Lyta, although she had drank much more, showed no effects at all. They had one more day of visiting businesses so that Lyta could eyeball people on her list that were located in Tokyo. As they left the club, Nikki noted that 0700 wasn't far away. *********************************** In the subway station near Lyta's hotel: The two men who had been tailing Lyta and Nikki were assassins who had been paid handsomely to terminate Lyta with 'extreme prejudice'. They had determined that she would use the subway to return to her hotel and that hitting her as she left a crowded subway platform was the ideal plan. They had been trained to hide their thoughts from a casual telepathic scan, and from their point of view they didn't see much that could go wrong. As Lyta passed, them in the station, they would step in behind her, empty their military PPGs into her and that would be it. The action would generate panic and terror in those very close to them, and the fear would spread throughout the platform area like wildfire, covering their escape. It was 0400 when Lyta stepped off the train and onto the subway platform. She was enjoying the thoughts of what she and Nikki had spent almost the entire night doing. As she walked off the platform, she was thinking warm thoughts of Sheraun, and how much she would have loved to have him with her tonight. She was so wrapped up in her personal thoughts that she never noticed the two men in the crowd move in behind her. She became aware of them when she felt the stings of the first shots from their PPGs. The thought of her new dress being ruined enraged her. The two men had emptied their PPGs into Lyta and were trying to reload and run away at the same time, but found themselves unable to move before they could run three steps. The people in the subway station were frozen in place. Lyta quickly scrambled their most recent thoughts, those about the shooting and panic. She quickly rummaged through the minds of the two assassins, she learned several telephone numbers, names of other people involved and the account numbers where the money the assassins had been paid was waiting. Satisfied that she had gleaned all the useful information from them that they had, she proceeded to pulverize every bone in their bodies that wasn't actually necessary to keep them alive. That left their heads, parts of their spinal columns and rib cages intact. They weren't dead, but they would wish they were. When she released their minds, they would begin screaming at the top of their lungs. Looking at her ruined dress, she decided that walking the rest of the way back to the hotel wasn't the best of ideas. Since the people around her would not have clear memories of what had transpired, she concentrated and was engulfed in a white light that gave off no heat. When it had faded, she was gone. At that point the subway patrons regained control over their bodies and remembered nothing of her departure. They had only vague memories of fuzzy images about the incident. In her hotel room, Lyta quickly changed clothes, then went down to the front desk to retrieve her room passkey that she had left there when she went out earlier the previous evening. Back in her room, Lyta got on the communications system and accessed the accounts numbers for which she had discovered in the assassins memories. She moved enough to pay for her destroyed outfit to one of her accounts and moved the rest into several local charity accounts. She used the names and information about them to mentally visit the people to whom the names belonged. Several were lucky, she ripped what she wanted from their minds and gave them strokes. One other got special treatment. She removed account numbers from his mind then left him in the same condition that she had left her would be assassins. She never gave a second thought to what the doctors would think when they examined the men to whom she had given the special treatment. ******************************** 0800 inn Bryson's office on Mars: Bryson summoned his secretary into his office. Beverly Wiseman entered and stopped in front of Bryson's desk. "Yes Sir." "I have notified personnel to send your replacement. She will be here by 0900. I want your desk cleaned out before then. You will then report to personnel for reassignment." "Yes Sir. Will that be all, Sir?" "Yes." Wiseman turned and left without another word. She never asked for an explanation. She had been Bryson's secretary for about nine months. He was known for adhering to the company policy of changing secretaries every six months. Only the fact that he had been out of the office so much in the last six months had prevented him from keeping to that schedule. The fact that Beverly Wiseman had run his office for all the time he was gone was lost on him. It was almost 0930 when Garibaldi called Bryson. "Bob, what happened to Beverly?" "She had been here three months past the time when I should have replaced her." "I thought she was doing a fine job. You do know that the six month rule is something left over from when Edgars ran the place. I just haven't gotten around to wiping if off the books. It's one of a number that I'm going to trash." "It's too late now, Mike. Wiseman is back in personnel for reassignment." "Maybe I should use her to replace you." "What do you mean by that?" "She ran your office while you were on travel, Bob, and she did a better job of it than you do." "She would play hell making the decisions I have to make." "She already has. I suggest you review your past e-mail and other communications records. She made policy decisions and handled other decisions in your absence. I knew she was doing it, and discretely kept an eye on her. I stand by my statement that she did it better than you do." "Maybe you should give her my job." "Not yours, but I'm going to hold open Marty Golf's old position while I send Wiseman through security manager's training. After that she is going to take that position. She should be learning about the training assignment very soon." "It didn't make any difference whether I tried to keep her or not." "No. when I saw her performance during your absences, I did some checking into her personnel file. We should have been using her for at least a branch head a long time ago. I think someone in personnel was screwing her over, and when I find out who it was, they will be history around here. Actually, this call was to inform you of my decision." "The truth is, I didn't want to send her back to personnel, but rules are rules." "That one is going to be gone less than five minutes after we finish this conversation." "I know she thinks I'm a real ass after this morning." "I wouldn't assume anything, Bob. Remember, as a secretary she has been in and out of various offices over the years she has worked here, and I'm sure she knows why you sent her back to personnel." ***************************** In Edgar Industries personnel office: "There is no mistake Mrs. Wiseman. You are scheduled to start training tomorrow morning," said the personnel officer. "To what end am I receiving this training?" Asked Beverly Wiseman. "I don't know. I was informed that you would be receiving security manager training and where to send you. That's all I know. I'm sure there is a good reason." "Well, I suppose I shouldn't disappoint whoever is responsible. I'll be there." ********************************* Inside a Tokyo police precinct house: "Morning Lieutenant," said Sergeant Yeng. "What's new in the murder department? Not more of the gang killing gang like the other night, I hope," responded Lieutenant Lee. "Not murder, but maybe something worse." "Enlighten me." "Last night there was an incident in the Nogoi Station. We are still trying to determine just what happened, but we aren't having much success." "What's the problem?" "Lack of dependable witnesses. It looks like the two we found were trying to shoot someone. We found burned silk pieces that may have come from a dress, but we can't be sure. Forensics is trying to find anything that might lead to its source." "What's wrong with the witnesses?" "They can't remember what happened." "That's nothing new." "No, I mean they really can't remember. We have had a few of the scanned by telepaths, with their permission. They can only remember fuzzy images that don't tell us much of anything. They remember hearing the PPGs shooting, but not much else. The telepaths tell us that someone screwed with the memories of several hundred people in that station at the same time. They say they don't know of any telepath in the IA who could pull that off." "What do we have on the perpetrators?" "They are in the intensive care unit of Suzuki General Hospital. They aren't the only ones in their predicament. There was a well known crime figure brought in a little while after our perps." "What condition are they in?" Sergeant Yeng handed him a folder. "It's all in there, what we have. It isn't pretty." Lee finished reading the material and looking at the images that were included. He shuddered. "This can't be real. How could you do that and not leave a mark on them?" "That's what's driving the doctors up the wall. I understand they don't have a clue. The bone material is still there, it's just in powder form." "Have we tried to question them?" "The doctors have them doped up on pain killers, but we have interrogated them. They will only talk if we promise to kill them when the interrogation is finished. Otherwise, we can pack it in." "Tell me, is there any good news?" "We never found any body of the person they were trying to kill. I suppose that could be considered good news." "Dig out your aspirin. This is going to be another one of those days." *************************************** Onboard an airliner somewhere over the South China Sea: Lyta relaxed for the short flight. She had noted that the only thing about her experience in the train station was a few interviews that said nothing of substance. The authorities were keeping the facts surrounding the incident under wraps. She had decided to hurry through the remainder of her visits. She still hadn't gotten a lead on the location of the Drakh that she knew just had to be on the planet. She wanted them badly. The next four weeks would prove to be very busy. ************************************** In Garibaldi's office on Mars: "What or who in God's name is this Mike? I mean it looks like someone who shouldn't exist." "This is what's left of two guys who were found in a train station in Tokyo. The station is at the end of the block on which Lyta's hotel was located." "She did this?" He asked, fighting down the urge to dump his breakfast. "I have no idea. Neither do the Tokyo police, and the two of them won't talk. They say the only way they will talk is if they are killed afterward. I think this qualifies as something worse than death. They found burned silk material in the immediate area, but they can't identify it any better than that... and there are no creditable witnesses. Seems like they only have fuzzy, hazy memories of the incident. Out of hundreds of people on the platform, or in the immediate area, there isn't one decent witness." "Surely sounds like our redhead's handiwork." "I agree, but only because I can't think of anyone else who can do things like this. We both know you can't take that into a court." "I begin to see why you really don't want to be on her hit list. I'm beginning to feel sorry for the poor bastards who are on it... but only a little bit sorry," he said, holding up two fingers very close together. "We still haven't heard from her since the first time after her arrival in Tokyo. I suppose she will call when it pleases her. ******************************* Three weeks later: "Mister Garibaldi, I have a call from Lyta Alexander," said his secretary's voice from the intercom unit on his desk. [Here it comes,] Michael thought to himself. "Good Morning, Lyta." The image of the redhead looking out of the display said, "Make me an appointment with Susan's lawyer. He and I have business to conduct. Tell him I want to meet with the Arkland boy's parents." "Is that a good idea, Lyta. These people can't be threatened." "Why would I threaten them? I can afford to buy them off. Also, make sure her attorney has a copy of the 'Blob' tape from Tokyo." "'Blob' Tape?" "You know the one I mean. Remember, I helped with setting up your little 'news' monitoring network." "Call me back in an hour or so." "Ciao, Michael." "Anything I can help with, Mike?" Asked Bryson coming in on the end of the conversation. "Not really. I have to make Lyta an appointment with Susan's attorney. She referred to the tape of the guys in Tokyo as the 'Blob' tape. She's responsible. Otherwise, she wouldn't even know about it." "Do you still refuse to acknowledge that she's terrifying?" "Point made. What brought you over here?" "I was wondering about Mrs. Wiseman and her training." "She is doing very well. In fact she is doing so well that they are trying to hire her away from me." "Do you really think she'll take their offer?" "I don't know. I asked her to give me the opportunity to match any offer they make." "Do you really think she's worth it?" "I wasn't kidding when I said she did your job better than you do." "I don't have to stay here to be insulted. I can get that back in my office. I've been informed of what my people think of me for sending her back to personnel. They don't believe she would have been transferred anyway." "Sounds like a personal problem to me, Bob." *************************************** In an office building in New York: "Good morning, Mister White. I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Susan's friend, Lyta Alexander. I assume Mister Garibaldi informed you of my wishes when he scheduled this meeting." "He gave me your requests. I think we can handle them without any problem, although, I question the wisdom of meeting with the Arklands. They employ telepaths. I would assume they don't play by the rules either." "Let me worry about the teeps. I can totally block any telepaths we might encounter." "In that case, would you mind telling me what you have in mind?" "Not at all, as long as you understand it's privileged information." "Not a problem, Miss Alexander," replied White, waiting expectantly. "I plan to make them an offer to buy them off." Lyta held up her hand to forestall his response. "I already know they will refuse it, because they have another agenda. I also know that you have received a mountain of information about the Arklands, and as good as that is, when they refuse my offer, I will find out what they fear most. The rest you don't want to know." "How are you going to learn their greatest fears?" "They'll tell me. The rest you don't want to know." "You are what I expected after talking with Mistress Ivanova-Wayne." Lyta handed him a card. "It's the hotel where I'm staying. I'm in room 605. Call me when you have the meeting arranged. Oh, one more thing. The people generating the information you have on the Arklands are the information network that Michael Garibaldi and I set up for use in the Telepath War. Michael has expanded it and improved it since then." White watched Lyta walk out of his office and felt sorry for the Arklands, but only for a moment. He was glad he wasn't on this woman's hit list. It took White two days to arrange the meeting. He had been surprised how easy it had been. ***************************** In a chateau somewhere in Switzerland: White and Lyta were ushered into what appeared to be a combination library and personal study. At ten by fifteen meters, in any other large house it would have been the great room, but here it was small in comparison to some of the other rooms. Lyta and White took seats and waited for the Arklands to make their entrance. The Arklands entered the room followed by a servant pushing a bed equipped for traction. Lyta recognized the patient as being the Arkland's son. "Mister White, how pleasant to see you again," said the man, Rudolph Arkland. "What are we going to discuss today, the Wayne lawsuit, I believe." "Actually Mister Arkland, it is Miss Alexander who wishes to discuss the suit." "You must be the friend of Mrs. Wayne's. What can we do for you?" "Actually, Mister Arkland, it's what I can do for you," said Lyta. "And exactly what can you do for us?" Asked his wife, Elaine Arkland, in a condescending voice. "I can save you a great deal of money. Money that you would waste on the lawsuit. I have an offer to make to you, but first I want you to see some images that you probably missed on the recent newscasts. It concerns a couple of incidents in Tokyo, Japan," responded Lyta. A screen was lowered from the ceiling in one end of the room. "The unit on the desk in front of you will display data crystal images on the screen, Miss Alexander," said Rudolph. Lyta put the data crystal into the desk player unit and turned toward the screen. The images of the two assassins who had tried to kill her were displayed with voice-over comments. Then the images of the gangster that she had given special treatment to was displayed and again there were voice-over comments. "Are these images meant to convey a threat, Miss Alexander?" Asked Miss Arkland, obviously annoyed. "Absolutely not!" emphasized Lyta. These images were from two mysterious incidents in Tokyo. I'm with the commentator in the scenes in wondering how it was done. "However, my reason for being here is in this envelop. You are suing Susan for ten billion credits." As she talked, she went around the desk and operated the controls on a communication panel. The communication panel's display was fed onto the big screen. "What's in the envelop, Mister White?" asked Rudolph. "I honestly don't know, Mister Arkland. I suppose it represents some amount of money." Arkland reached for the envelop, but Lyta pulled it back out of his reach. "The envelop contains the code numbers to transfer an amount of money into any account you wish to deposit it in, Mister Arkland. However, in order to do that you must first sign legal papers absolving Susan from any responsibility for your son's condition and ensuring that you will not reinstate it after the funds are transferred." "You expect me to drop the suit for something in that envelop without seeing it first?" "I have papers that I will sign after you sign yours, and before you turn them over to Mister White stipulating that if what I offer isn't worth at least as much as you are asking, your part of the deal is non-binding, but mine is. You can't lose. All you have to do is sign the papers, open the envelop and use the code numbers to transfer the funds. I give you five minutes to make a decision." From his bed, Arkland's son said, "Take the offer, Dad, and save the expense of the lawsuit." Lyta studied the Arklands very closely. The telepaths they had brought into the room were totally unaware of what Lyta was doing. Since they were breaking the law trying to scan her, she felt no compunction about fixing them like Maya had fixed Bester. The five minutes seemed to go on forever, but finally Rudolph Arkland, after whispering to his wife, said, I'm sorry, Miss Alexander, but we have to decline." "I expected you to decline. I told Mister White that this suit was about power, not money, and you have proven me correct. I'm not sorry you declined, it leaves me with a clear conscience." "A clear conscience about what?" Asked Mrs. Arkland. "About how this lawsuit plays out," replied Lyta. "I think you should leave," said Mister Arkland. Just before they exited the room, Lyta turned and said, "You can use the numbers in the envelop to see what you turned down. However, you can no longer transfer the funds." With that said, Lyta followed Mister White out of the room. Lyta and White were exiting the house when Mrs. Arkland picked up the envelop and stepped over to the communications control panel. She opened the envelop and entered the numbers on the card that had been in the envelop. The numbers displayed on the big screen caused everyone in the room to stop breathing for almost thirty seconds. "My God, Rudy. Look at those numbers." Displayed on the screen was the sum of ten billion credits. The other code numbers bore out that the figure was indeed genuine. "She knew we wouldn't accept money. She knows what we're doing." "If she was offering this much to get us to quit, what will her next move be?" Asked Rudy. "Somehow, Dad, Mom, I don't think you want to know," commented their son. **************************** On an airliner somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean: "How much did you offer them. I never got to see the figures?" Asked White. "The offered amount was ten billion credits, Mister White." White looked at Lyta in stunned silence. "What if they had accepted?" "I was sure they wouldn't. Like I said, this is about power, not money. Anyone suing for money, given the guarantee that I gave them, would have leaped at the offer. They would save a fortune on the lawyers they would need to prosecute the suit." "What's your next move?" "You don't want to know. I have more information about them for you, but it will have to look like it was discovered in the natural course of events. So, you will be receiving it over the next few weeks, along with a lot of really interesting data. You won't know which is which, so just use it all." "It's been a pleasure knowing you , Mister White. After we land in New York, I'll be leaving you." "No offence intended, but you are the most intriguing female I have ever met." Lyta smiled at the remark and drifted off to sleep, after replying, "Good." ********************************** END PART 30 From: "Aubrey W. Adkins" Subject: Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 31 of ---(WIP) Date: Wed, 30 Aug 2000 19:58:43 -0400 Adventures of Lyta After G'Kar Part 31 of ---(WIP) Criticism is welcomed. Without, it there can't be any improvement. Address criticisms to [xazqrten@home.com] Think of this as a space opera. All characters/places/persons not belonging to the writer are the sole properties of their owners, PTEN, WB, JMS, and will be turned over to the owners at the request of their agents. All other characters/places/persons are public domain. Rated PG-10 (Vocabulary) "..." = spoken words <...> = telepathic speech [...] = one's own thoughts, internal (...) = to set off items such as acronyms immediately identified by the phrase they stand for. '...' = to set off odd items??? {...} = italics. ********************************* In a hotel room in San Francisco: Lyta lay on the bed watching the news. She had used her real name and her own credit cards, and she wondered how long it would take for them to find her. So far, she was thoroughly unimpressed. ********************************** In the hotel lobby: "This is too easy Pat. She isn't even trying to hide." "Maybe she thinks no one will be looking for her here under her own name. It won't be the first time some smart-ass criminal let his or her ego get the best of him or her." "I don't think this woman is a criminal. At least not in the sense that we normally mean. I've done some checking. She is part of the Glenthorian diplomatic corps assigned to Earth. She has diplomatic immunity. What we're going to do could cost us our careers." "Her diplomatic immunity doesn't mean anything to the people who want her arrested." Pat failed to see his partners interest increase sharply at his statement. He continued, "We'll be well compensated for this. The people who want her will take care of the rest." There was something about the way he said what he did that bothered her. "I'm beginning to doubt the legality of what we are doing," she stated flatly. "You're working with me as the junior partner. I'll call the shots on this. You can make any complaints about the way I'm handling things after the job's done." "She's sitting up there waiting for us. She wants to be arrested. I don't know about you, but something about this whole mess stinks. If she is so dangerous, why don't we have backup?" "I've been told we won't need it. Now let's go get her. ******************************* On Babylon 5, in the officer's mess: "I'm happy that you could join me, Dr. Balor," said Captain Lochley. "What can I do for you, Captain?" Asked Cathy Balor. "I've been thinking about you and Corwin." "There's nothing to think about, Captain." "You seem to be very sure about that." "I'm a telepath and an empath. I know exactly how David feels about me. If he could butcher me on the spot without repercussions, he wouldn't hesitate for a moment. You don't understand the depth of his hatred." "You could be mistaken." "Maybe you should check out his new best friends, Captain, before you question my ability to read people." "What do you mean by 'his new best friends'?" "There is a hate group on the station composed of people who believe all telepaths should be exterminated. I didn't think that belonging to hate groups was congruent with being a good Earthforce officer. Am I wrong?" "About the officers and hate groups, you are correct. I'll have to look into his off-duty activities. That kind of behavior can end a career in short order." "I really don't care about his activities, personally, Captain. Any feelings I had for him are gone. They evaporated when I realized how he really felt about me." "Enough about the wayward lieutenant. How is your pregnancy coming along?" "So far everything is just fine. The fetus development is right on schedule. I'm almost five months along. The weight gaining is starting in earnest, and I've had to buy some new clothing. Everything must have expansion panels." Later in her office, Captain Lochley initiated a gold channel connection with the Earthforce Department of Personnel commanding officer. The image of a lieutenant general appeared on her display screen. "You caught me just as I was leaving, Captain Lochley. What can I do for you?" "I'm sorry to delay you, General Mitchell, but I need to put a hold on the advancement of one of my junior officers." "May I ask why?" "Of course, Sir. I have very reliable information that Lieutenant David Corwin has gotten himself involved with a hate group here on the station. Being as large and diverse as we are, we have our share of them. I want an indefinite hold on his advancement to Lieutenant Commander until I can complete an investigation of the situation. If I find what I think, his career will be over." "Which group is he mixing with?" "It's the "A Dead Telepath is a Good Telepath" fanatics. I believe they call themselves the DTGT." "They are a nasty bunch. There've been a number of rather gruesome telepath murders attributed to them, in addition to the members that have already been convicted of a number of them. If your information is valid, I agree,Earthforce doesn't need him. I'll initiate the hold. Is there anything else I can do for you?" "No Sir. And again, I apologize for keeping you late." "In this case, no apology is needed, Captain Lochley. Goodbye." Lochley sat thinking for a long time after the circuit had been broken. Then she walked out into C&C proper and looked around slowly, letting her eyes come to rest on Corwin, who was discussing something on the screen of one of the control consoles. She was saddened. He had shown so much promise in the years since she had taken command of Babylon 5. **************************************** In Lyta's hotel room, 1100 hours: Lyta had become tired of waiting to be arrested and ordered an in-room meal through room service. Since it would be the last really decent meal she would eat before leaving Earth, she splurged. Even though she didn't really need to eat the way she had when she was fully human, She found the idea of possibly never again enjoying some of her favorite foods depressing. It had been almost thirty minutes since Lyta ordered room service. When the knock on the door came, she detected the detectives sent to arrest her. She made up her mind that she wouldn't let them interfere with her enjoyment of the meal she had ordered. "It's open. Come in." The detectives rushed through the door with their guns drawn and swept the muzzles around the room. Lyta, sitting up on the bed with her arms around one knee and the other leg folded beneath her, asked "What can I do for you?" "You can get up and put your hands behind your back. You're under arrest," said the male half of the duo. "What am I being arrested for?" "I have an outstanding warrant for your arrest on charges of treason, conspiracy and terrorism during the Telepath War." "I see. Well, have a seat. I ordered room service, and I am going to eat the meal before I leave." Pointing his gun toward her head, he said, "You don't seem to understand. You're under arrest. I would just as soon shoot you as not. Now, put your damned hands up." "You have the easy part finished. Shoot me if you wish. However, you will be responsible for the consequences." "Get up off the bed, slowly," ordered the man. Lyta stood up and looked at him and smiled. "You're afraid of me, and I'm not even armed." She turned around slowly and showed that her clothing left no place to hide a weapon. "I've heard about you. One false move and I'll blow you away." "No you won't. You have orders to bring me in alive." Just then there came another knock on the suite door, followed by the announcement, "Room service!" "Come in," responded Lyta. A middle-aged man entered, pushing a large food cart in front of him. "Where should I put it, Ma'am." "Set it up on the table over there, please." "You! Get the hell out of here and take that damned cart with you!" Snarled the male detective. "Ignore him," said Lyta. "He just doesn't have any manners." The female agent, having observed the entire scene, was convinced that being arrested was part of this woman's plans, whatever they might be. It was obvious that she had no fear of her partner or her. She watched as the waiter proceeded to set the table. The smell of the food was driving her almost out of her mind. She hadn't eaten anything since the night before, and it was now late afternoon, she was feeling famished. The waiter finished his task and departed after receiving a tip from Lyta. She moved to the table and sat down. "I never told you to move!" Snapped the male detective. "I didn't ask," replied Lyta, picking up her napkin. The man moved quickly and closed the distance between Lyta and himself. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, and immediately screamed as his hand felt like someone had submerged it in molten lava. Almost immediately, he dropped to the floor writhing in pain, but making no sounds. His gun bounced once on the floor and came to rest under the table. Lyta ignored the event and scooped some pasta onto her plate. Looking at the female agent, she said, "I ordered enough for several people. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Miss Alexander," replied Detective Johnson. "I know you're hungry. What I don't eat and drink will be thrown away. Sit down and eat with me. After we finish, you can arrest me." Johnson sat down and loaded a plate with pasta and seafood sauce. She poured a glass of wine then looked at her partner lying on the floor. "What about him?" "He'll still be there when we finish eating. I took away the pain because he was going to crap and urinate all over himself. I have discovered that such an outcome smells foul, and would certainly spoil our meal." Thirty minutes later they were through eating and enjoying the last of a second bottle of wine. "It's time for you to arrest me, Officer Johnson. What I want you to do is walk back down the hallway. As you walk, you will find yourselves arguing about how best to arrest me. Neither you or he will remember what has happened here. However, you won't be hungry this time." Johnson looked at Lyta and said, "Since we won't remember any of this, I think you should know, I actually work with internal affairs. I'm investigating disreputable behavior amongst some old timer officers." "Actually, Officer Johnson, I picked that up from your thoughts. I had wondered about your working with him despite your aversion to his actions." Pat got up off the floor and followed Justine out of the suite. Halfway to the elevator, he said, "I told you we don't need backup. She won't give us any trouble." "I still don't like this." "You don't have to like it, just follow my lead and orders, and you'll be just fine." Johnson looked at him very doubtfully, but said nothing more. Lyta sat at the table slowly sipping the last of the wine. They were at the door. Instead of knocking, the two detectives rushed through the door with guns drawn and at the ready as they swept the room. Lyta said nothing, but she watched very closely. Sure enough, the man acted just as before, belligerent and insufferable. This time he went even farther than he had the first time. "On your feet and put your hands behind your back!" He demanded. Lyta stood up, put her hands behind her back and turned so the man could handcuff her. When he finished, he turned her around and struck her across the left part of her face with his pistol. "What in the hell do you think you are doing, Pat?" Asked Johnson hotly. Without answering, her partner struck Lyta across the face from the other direction. She never uttered a sound nor did she go down. This infuriated Johnson's partner. He started to strike Lyta again, but froze when she said quietly, "The first two were free. Hit me again, and you'll wish someone had killed your great-grandfather while he was still a fetus." "Threaten me will you!" He screamed and struck her again. As soon as he hit her in the face, his face exploded in blinding pain. Whimpering with tears running down his face, he dropped to the floor. Johnson looked at Lyta. "What did you do to him?" "I let him experience the same pain I felt when he hit me. I haven't resisted your efforts to arrest me, and you have no right to abuse me. If you or he try to do so again, you will not believe the pain I can inflict upon you. Do not believe for a moment, Officer Johnson, that you or he are in control of the situation." Putting her gun back in its holster, she replied, "I thought it might be something like that. What about him?" "He'll remember nothing of our conversation. I think he may be more patient now. If he isn't, he's in for a really painful day." The man got to his feet, holding his face, he said, "Let's get her into a cell and let someone else deal with her." The remainder of the arrest went down routinely. ******************************* In the unmarked police car and then the maximum security precinct holding cell: Lyta, with her hands cuffed, had been roughly shoved into the back of the car by Pat Handon, Officer Johnson's male partner. They were well on their way to the precinct station when Johnson turned to watch Lyta. To her shock, Lyta's facial cuts, suffered when Handon had hit her across the face with his pistol, were almost gone. She realized that by the time they reached the station, they would be completely healed. However, that wasn't what shocked her. She looked at Lyta, and Lyta looked back, only she wasn't handcuffed anymore. She had fastened her seatbelt and held the handcuffs dangling from one hand. "You don't seem worried by this situation," said Johnson. "I'm not," replied Lyta. "There's no reason I should be." "That's what you think, Red," sneered Handon. "Tell me officer Handon. Are you familiar with the concept of payback?" Asked Lyta. "Is that supposed to be a threat?" Asked Handon. "No. It was a question. Are you familiar with the concept of payback? For instance you borrow a sum of money, and at some point in the future you pay it back with whatever interest has been agreed upon. That's payback." "Yeah, I know what it is," he replied. "Good," replied Lyta. "When you receive your principle and interest several days from now, you won't be surprised." "That sounds like a threat!" Snapped Handon "It's a fact, and I'll remind you of it at that time." "We getting close to the station," commented Johnson. Lyta smiled at her and put handcuffs back on with her hands once more behind her back. After pulling into the precinct parking area, Handon roughly tried to pull Lyta from the car. "How did this damned seatbelt get fastened, Johnson?" "I didn't fasten it. Maybe she did it." After parading Lyta around the precinct offices like a prize animal of some kind, Handon had her booked and thrown into one of the maximum security cells, with her hands cuffed behind her back and shackles around her ankles, both of them being fastened to a secured set of chains around her waist which were fastened to a ring set into the concrete wall. "You'll play hell getting out of here Miss Redhead." Lyta smiled at him, and he felt his blood temperature drop about ten degrees Celsius. Handon had called ahead when he had arrested Lyta and there was a news team from one of the local television stations waiting to record their arrival at the precinct. When she was identified as the terrorist leader fugitive from the Telepath War, it caught the interest of the international and interstellar news services. Lyta hadn't been in the least surprised when there was a 'doctor' waiting to give her an injection of the sleeper Drug. It was large enough to nullify the abilities of several dozen P-12 telepaths. Someone was not taking any chances. The fact that if could lower her brain functions to a point where she could die from heart and respiratory failure didn't seem to be a consideration. As she lay there trussed up in chains and wrist and leg shackles attached to a ring in the wall, Lyta asked the cellblock guard, "How am I supposed to use the facilities?" "That's your problem," sneered the guard. **************************** In Garibaldi's office on Mars: "Mike, what in hell is she up to?" Queried Bryson. "I don't know, but I want you to get our people down there on to watching and following her if they move her," replied Garibaldi. "If they arrested her, it's because she wanted them to. There is no way anyone could arrest her if she didn't want to go." "After what I've experienced with her, I wouldn't dare to disagree." "Ivanova is going to be very unhappy when she sees this newscast." "That's right. You did say they're best friends. Do you think General Ivanova will try to intervene?" "I doubt it. She knows damned good and well what Lyta can do. She may know even better than me." ************************************ In Susan Ivanova's rented apartment: "Susan, you should get out here and watch this," said Charley loudly, to his wife who was taking her evening shower. "Record it for me!" She yelled back. Sitting on the sofa wrapped in a very large bath towel, General Susan Ivanova watched the video playback of her friend's arrest. "I wonder what she's up to. You know she let them arrest her." "What makes you think so?" "You really don't know anything about Lyta, do you?" "I know she is a very powerful telepath. She never said anything about any other abilities." Susan started telling Charley all she knew about her friend and her abilities. They watched a recording of the shooting that had been recorded in San Francisco. At the end of this, Charley looked at her, stunned by the information she had given him. "My God. Who could imagine anyone having that much power?" "Charley, I told you what I know. It doesn't mean that is all there is to her abilities." "How can a human have those kinds of abilities?" "Charley, Lyta isn't human anymore. She's as far above you and me as we are above an average, intelligent lab rat." "And you still call her a friend." "Don't you?" "I never had to think about it before this?" "What's to think about. Has she ever treated you with anything but respect? Hell, you can't even say that about me." "You're right. She's always treated me with respect." "Then she doesn't see you as little more than a lab rat." Charley chewed on his lower lip as he though all of this over. ******************************** In the Glenthorian Embassy: As he watched the newscast the Glenthorian ambassador remembered the dispatch he had received just before Lyta's arrival on Earth. His instructions were to lodge a formal protest through the Earth Alliance representative and let the red tape do its thing. Lyta didn't want any well meaning interference. He didn't understand what was transpiring, but he knew enough about Lyta and her connections to let her play whatever it was out to a conclusion. She had clout spelled in very large boldface type. ********************************* On Babylon 5: "Larry, how is this going to impact on Lyta's intention of adopting Cathy's baby?" Looking across the table at Captain Lochley, he replied, "It doesn't. If any thing happens to her, the baby will still be adopted out to a telepath on Glenthor. They will send someone to get the child. Lyta has made contingency plans for such an event." **************************** In President Luchenko's office: "I thought that everyone not already tried and convicted, except a few rogue psi cops, had been granted amnesty for their parts in The Telepath War?" "They were, Madam President. That is all except for Lyta Alexander. She was the leader of the rebels. She was never proven to have personally killed anyone, and it is said she punished wanton killing by her people very severely, but she was the leader, so she is responsible for everything they did." "If we had a war, would I be held responsible for every act of war crimes that was committed by every soldier in the field?" "Of course not." "What would be the difference between that and what she is charged with?" Her aid thought about it for a full minute. "I see your point, Madam President. Shall I see about some kind of intervention?" "Not yet. I have reason to believe she let herself be arrested," she replied, remembering the 'visit', during The Telepath War, that she had received from Lyta. She reasoned that anyone who could do that could probably take care of themselves. ********************************* In the home of Lyta's family: "I suppose that's that," said Lyta's mother. "Now do you see why I didn't want to become involved with her. If it became known we are her family then we would be arrested as quickly as she was. That's the way it works." "That's still not a reason to deny her, Mom," said her son. "This isn't Psi Corps we would be dealing with." "The people who arrested her wouldn't be any different in their methods," commented their father. ********************************* In Lyta's cell, 0300 hours: It had been more than fifteen hours since Lyta had seen the inside of a bathroom or used any toilet facilities, and need it or not, she was a bit hungry. It was obvious that she had been all but forgotten. They were monitoring her using two cameras and sound pick-ups mounted high up in the cell where the wall and ceiling met. It didn't require much effort to cause the cameras to freeze one image and transmit that image to the monitor displays. Since Lyta had not been moving around the security man observing the displays never became aware of the deception. She established a link with the mind of the security man and monitored him to determine if he became aware of her ruse. Using her telekinetic abilities, Lyta caused the handcuffs and leg shackles to drop away. It only took a few seconds to remove the remainder of the chains. After that she disappeared from the cell. Appearing in her hotel room, Lyta ordered club sandwiches, French fries and a bottle of house wine. Then she ran herself a bath and made her toilet. She had finished her bath and dressed in clean clothes by the time her food arrived. She put the meal on her hotel bill, knowing that it would be paid before she left Earth. After the bath and meal, she returned to her cell. Getting back into her handcuffs, shackles and chains was considerably more difficult than getting out of them. She burned out both monitor cameras to prevent her burning an image into them from being discovered. She then shorted out the video cables at a place in their lengths and made it look like rats had chewed the cables. That the 'chewed' areas were located in unreachable spaces wouldn't be seriously questioned. The cables would have to be replaced, and it would take a week for the police to get the work done, if this bureaucracy was anything like those with which she was familiar. ********************************** During the three days, Lyta was in the holding cell she was visited by a small number of men and women who looked as if they had een cut out by the black-bag cookie factory. They were treated to meeting an apparently heavily drugged woman who simply looked at them out of glassy, glazed-over eyes. She never said a word to them. The last of the lot, Frank Dorsh, sat down at the table in Lyta's cell at 0900 on the third morning after her arrest. "I understand that you have been trussed up here for three days now. Is that true?" Lyta said nothing in response, and lay on her belly wrapped up in her chains watching him through drug glazed eyes. "I also understand that they haven't given you any food or water during that time, or even let you use the toilet facilities, such as they are." Lyta continued to stare at him and say nothing. He began to realize that she had been drugged so severely that she was lucky to be alive. She was totally unresponsive. He hoped she lived long enough to be transported to Nevada Facility Number Four, known in the twentieth century as AREA 51. If she didn't, he would be in for some very unpleasant questioning. ********************************** In the precinct station: "Lieutenant Kelly, I don't want anything more to do with this travesty!" Exclaimed a highly agitated Officer Justine Johnson. "You and officer Handon have been issued orders to accompany the Alexander woman to this Nevada site. I don't want to hear anymore about it. This has been a headache as it is. Somebody's been talking to the damned reporters. We're getting heat from the Amnesty International people about our treatment of her while she's been here," snapped Lieutenant Kelly. "Whose idea was it to deny her food, water and toilet facilities? Asked Johnson. "I wouldn't do that to a rabid dog." "We were given a list of orders to carry out concerning this woman. Those items were amongst them. They gave her daily shots that would have incapacitated several dozen telepaths for a week. Someone with clout hates this woman," replied Kelly. "Rest assured it wasn't my idea. I worry about the people here who enjoyed her predicament. What does that say about us?" "Beats the hell out of me, Lieutenant," replied Johnson. [But... I intend to find out when I get back.] **************************** Nevada Facility Number Four, early afternoon: "Where exactly are we, Mister Dorsh? I know we're somewhere in Nevada, or at least I think we are," asked Pat Handon. "We're going down two hundred meters, Sergeant Handon. Since you've been so helpful up until now, I thought you should see the fruits of your efforts. I mean anyone can be paid money, but only those who are truly dedicated are permitted here," replied Dorsh. "I noticed a number of aircraft coming and going and a lot of people getting off of them. That seems a bit odd for a high security base," commented Officer Johnson. "I'm not sure what the whole story is with them, except that they all have been closely involved with programs started by the Clark government. They've made numerous contributions to our cause. The regular personnel who normally run this facility and the base have been replaced by our most trusted troops. I believe there will be about twenty-five hundred guests here for the conversion of our honored guest. That would be you, Miss Alexander," said Dorsh to the drugged Lyta. Unknown to Dorsh and the two officers, Lyta had been scanning everyone on the base. She had detected some people watching the base from nearby hills. To prevent killing innocent people, Lyta caused them, and certain pilots who were strictly legitimate transport service providers, to leave the immediate area in haste. They would keep moving away from the base as fast as possible until they were at least a hundred kilometers away. She had also detected the presence of three Drakh, and she wasn't surprised. It would be the last mistake they ever made. Lyta actively searched for and located the Drakh whose minds she had detected. She immediately began a surreptitious scan of their minds. She was surprised to find that all three apparently knew that the Drakh Entire had plans for the destruction of Earth and the Human race. That they knew meant that the plans were well underway. The fact that they knew none of the specifics only meant that they were not very high up in the command hierarchy. It was information, but without particulars it was virtually useless. The Drakh were vaguely aware of their minds being touched, but they assumed it was simply a byproduct of being so close to a number of former Human psi cops. There were a number of them present to help control Lyta if it became necessary. Sergeant Handon and Officer Johnson were given a tour of the lower level, where Lyta was being kept until time for the demonstration scheduled for later that evening. Dorsh was proud of the modifications they had made to the level. There was no way on or off the level except by using the elevators. ******************************* Bryson's office at 1800 Nevada time: "Accept," said Bob Bryson, to the announcement of an incoming call. "They moved the Alexander woman, Mister Bryson," said the image on the view screen. "When and where?" "She was moved this morning. They transported her to a place called Nevada Facility Number Four. It is a disestablished CB warfare facility. We have a person on site. Actually he is a military man we pay for any information he passes on. It seems that a few weeks ago someone had the self-destruct device reinstalled. We have been observing a lot of shady people arriving there during the last twenty-four hours. Most of them have criminal connections and some are leftovers from the Clark regime and a few are former high level psi cops that escaped prosecution. I am sending photos of the Alexander woman being moved. It looks like the doped her up pretty good." "Keep me informed of any changes. There is nothing we can do for her, but offer moral support." "One other thing. They have been moving the regular cast and crew of the station out and replacing them with special personnel for the last three days. Our inside man said that before they made him and the last of his group leave that they began experiencing mounting levels of unexplained fear, and along with it a feeling that they had to get away from the base. He can't explain it, but he says the feelings of foreboding and fear lessened as they flew away from the place. I don't know what to make of it, but it is interesting." ******************************* On the lowest level of the facility, 2000 hours: The room was set up as a large operating room. Lyta had been wheeled into its center. She had been given massive injections of anesthesia in addition to more large injections of the sleeper drug. The Gurney was a type that tilted so that whoever was strapped to it could be stood up at a decent angle of about sixty degrees with the floor. Lyta's head lolled about as if she had no neck bones or muscles. When they set her up at an angle her head hung lifelessly from he shoulders. "I want to start this demonstration tonight with a simple bullet wound to show what prompted the capture of this woman. Some of you have come to fear her because she is a strong telepath. As you can see there is no reason to fear her. Pump enough sleeper drug into her, and she is no different from any other telepath. The telepaths present have scanned her and find that she is completely under our control. Now if one of our security personnel will lend me a handgun, I will get started," said Dorsh. Taking an offered pistol, Dorsh stepped fairly close to Lyta and took careful aim on the center of her chest. Without hesitation he shot her in the heart. The impact of the slug made Lyta's body quiver for a moment. "You will note that her eyes, even though they are glassy and unresponsive have not closed and her breathing is still regular and deep. The bullet had no real effect. The doctor will use a hand scanner to show that her body is already repairing the damage inflicted by the bullet." The doctor used the hand scanner and the results were shown on a large viewing screen that had been set up for that purpose. As Lyta's body finished repairing the damage to her chest cavity, Dorsh fired four more shots in rapid succession. The damage seen on the screen was horrendous, but within three minutes her body had repaired itself. "We believe this