From: Sue Isle Subject: Spidertrap Part 1 Date: Sun, 23 Mar 1997 09:51:02 +0800 (WST) Greetings, all. This story is an amateur effort, purely for fun, and is not intended to breach any copyrights dealing with the television production "Babylon 5". I wrote it about halfway through third season, so it shouldn't contain any spoilers even to my fellow Perth fans! I'm a little worried about length. The other sections are slightly longer than this one. If anyone thinks they should be shorter chunks, let me know. Sue Isle ______________________________________________________________________________ SPIDERTRAP Part 1 A Babylon 5 Third Season story by Sue Isle Babylon Five. A meeting place between the worlds. Somewhere to rest, to ease the breath and stop the bleeding of wounds. Somewhere to change all things. The security guard watched as the next arriving passenger pushed a large wooden box on wheels up to him and stopped. She could probably have fit in the box, the Narn thought, but resisted the urge to try this theory out. Duty was duty. "What's in there?" "Trees." "Excuse me? Perhaps my English is not so good as I had thought. I thought you said "trees"." "Trees," the female Human agreed. She slid aside the lid of the box and gestured for him to look. Inside, secured to the floor by some adhesive, were rows of small plants. Oddly enough, they did look like trees; gnarled of limb, some twisted over, with small-leafed foliage. "Miniature trees. We call them bonsai. I plan to start a shop here." "All right, on you go," the Narn told her. The Human, who carried only a large backpack as well as the long shallow box on wheels, nodded her thanks and continued. Quite a few beings made way for her and her unusual luggage; quite a few stared after her in confusion after asking what was in the box and being told. Her destination was quite a distance, being in the bowels of the station called Downbelow. More shadowy, more dangerous, she thought, pushing the box onwards. She read numbers on doors, kept pushing. Finally she reached the number which matched that on her card, and keyed it. The door slid open to reveal a room. Twenty feet by fifteen by ten, dusty, empty, a real mess. More or less what she'd expected. In the corner nearest, however, were the items she'd requested. Two disassembled trestle tables, a bucket and a broom. "Thanks, Commander. I know I'm going to just love your station." Her first visitor arrived maybe two hours later. He stood watching while she set the first of the tiny trees on the now-clean and set-up trestle table. The little juniper was pretty tough; she'd deliberately chosen the hardiest specimens to subject to space travel. "Ms Lorell?" "Aline. And you are?" She surveyed him; definitely security personnel, but that black uniform wasn't anything she recognised. Lucky she'd been briefed on that little alteration from Earthforce reality. "Michael Garibaldi. Chief of Security." Aline waved a hand. "I arranged this well before I arrived, so if it's not secure, somebody needs some filing lessons." Garibaldi grinned slightly. "That's usually true." Fortyish, she thought, balding, looking like your average thug, until you saw the eyes. This man was smart and sharp and had been through one hell of a lot; a journey not even half done. And Sinclair trusted him. Garibaldi watched her as well, seeing a woman maybe late thirties, stretched tall and thin, her blond hair clipped short. Not someone to waste time over a hairdressing salon. "So how's Jeff?" "He's well. Sends greetings to you and the others." She began lifting out the rest of the bonsais. Chinese elms, conifers, a Japanese maple, figs, oaks, all perfectly formed. "I've got seedlings along as well, but thought I should bring as much of the mature stock as I could. Nobody wants to wait twenty years to see a result." "Pretty thorough cover." "Cover? Mr Garibaldi, this is a bonsai shop. The fact that I'm . . . what I am is another facet, not the whole story. Babylon Five needs a place like this." "But I understood your stay here was temporary. Don't get me wrong, this is great, it's just . . . " "My current job is temporary. So I hope. But after that, I still need to live and work somewhere. Commander Sinclair thinks I can continue to help the Ranger effort from here, particularly when Garth gets here." "You're optimistic." "Garth Kalder is what I say he is, Mr Garibaldi." He made a brief motion for silence. "Captain Sheridan is not happy about letting a high ranking telepath on the station. We've had enough trouble with Bester." Aline's hands stilled. She held a second delicate Japanese maple between them in its tray; only five inches in height. "I understood you wanted a certain special trap set, Mr Garibaldi. To do that, I need at least one of my team." "Kalder is still serving in the Psi Corps! How can he be a member of the Rangers?" "He isn't. I am." She set the tree down on the table and bent a little to examine it closely. "Damn, that branch is broken! Mr Garibaldi, at least wait to meet him before you judge." "You said one of your team. Why not bring in someone else?" "No one else is a telepath and Psi Corps does not automatically mean bastard. Now, I really need to unpack these trees and give them some attention, so perhaps we can speak later?" "Count on it," Garibaldi said, letting himself out. Garth Kalder stood patiently waiting for Security to be finished. The two Narns had called over Michael Garibaldi, the head of security, the moment he disembarked at B5. Sometimes Garth wished he could just travel in mufti and save the black uniform and the Psi Corps badge for official occasions. Sometimes he just wished he'd been graded slightly lower and had been able to avoid the damn psi police force. "She didn't say you were a Psicop," Garibaldi remarked at last, his voice just above a growl. The man was two inches taller and had to mass a good twenty pounds more than he did, yet he stood calmly as though willing to wait out whatever Garibaldi wanted to say or do. His hair was thick and shaggy, even cropped short as it was. "I try not to think about it myself," Garth Kalder said. Garibaldi blinked. A Psicop making a joke was not something that belonged in his universe. Ivanova was going to have a fit about this. "You're based on Mars?" Kalder nodded. "You know Bester, then?" Another nod. Kalder didn't exactly look pleased about the connection. "All right, come on. I'll show you where Aline Lorell is quartered. Your room's next to that. And don't go wandering anywhere you're not meant to be. We aren't Earth territory any more, you know; that badge doesn't make you inviolate." Bester would have said something snide. Kalder didn't even look annoyed, simply moved along beside Garibaldi as directed. Past the open doorway to the dusty Downbelow room where Aline Lorell had first taken her belongings, Garibaldi stopped in amazement. It was scrubbed clean, for one thing, and the air even smelled fresher. There was a forest of little trees arranged about the walls on the trestle tables. A partition shielded a small section of the room, and from this Aline Lorell emerged upon hearing them. "Garth!" She ran delightedly forward to hug him, something Garibaldi watched with disbelief, then moved back to wave about. "What do you think? They survived the trip very well." "You didn't have this many, did you?" Garibaldi asked. Lorell grinned. "They pack small. A few broken branches, that's all, they'll make it." "Good, good," Kalder said vaguely. "I've set myself up in there," she added, pointing at the partition. "Couldn't see any reason for taking separate quarters when all I've got's a roll-up futon and my pack, beside the bonsai tools." "I think I'll settle for luxury if you don't mind." "You get it too soft in the Corps!" "Oh, definitely." Garibaldi shook his head. "I'll arrange a meeting with Captain Sheridan asap," he said, getting their attention at once. "He doesn't exactly want this prolonged, if you know what I mean." Outside, he thought about them, trying to decide where the two strangers fit in the scheme of things. They were about as hard to pigeonhole as Marcus Cole - even the Psicop! The two of them didn't seem to have any romantic attachment; their behaviour was more that of a brother and sister who got on pretty well. That could be it, of course; if Kalder was Lorell's brother or cousin or something, that was the simplest link. Unfortunately, in Garibaldi's experience, simplest was rarely the way things went. End of Part 1 From: Sue Isle Subject: Spidertrap Part 2 Date: Mon, 24 Mar 1997 17:32:39 +0800 (WST) Can't remember if I have to put in the disclaimer every time I post, but this is an amateur effort purely for fun and not intended to breach any copyrights associated with the television show "Babylon 5". Sue ____________________________________________________________________________ SPIDERTRAP Part 2 A Babylon 5 Third Season story by Sue Isle Garth Kalder and Aline Lorell stood under the concerted stares of Sheridan, Ivanova, Franklin, Garibaldi and Marcus Cole, whom Garibaldi had asked along for his odd way of looking at things - and people. "Commander Sinclair vouched for you," the Captain said slowly, looking at Lorell. "That's why you're here. But no one vouched for a Psicop." "Jeff Sinclair said the job required a telepath," Kalder answered. "You don't know what the job is?" "No. Best I know as little as possible. I am the top grade of the Corps, but there are those who could break down my shields like cardboard." He said this calmly, with no arrogance in his tone at all, looking Sheridan in the eye for a moment before turning his stare aside. "So how do you come to be teamed with Lorell?" They hesitated. Kalder looked at Aline Lorell, who said, "Our families have been close for generations." "You're a telepath too?" "I don't mean telepathy. It's nothing that need concern this station or the job." "I don't like mysteries on my station, Mr Kalder, Ms Lorell. Explain." Aline stood up. "You had better ask Ranger One for another team, sir. We came prepared to do the job, not to answer questions about our past. If you have another telepath, of any strength, you may call him or her to scan Garth. He'll allow it. Otherwise, we'll be on the next ship back to Minbar." Garibaldi looked at the Psicop at the mention of scanning him. Kalder did not react, except when Aline got to her feet. He joined her, his movements surprisingly graceful for his size. "Sit, please," Sheridan said wearily. "I will talk to Ranger One, but not about another team. For now, proceed. Mr Garibaldi will brief you and be your liaison with me and my command staff." He and Ivanova left. After a brief chat with Marcus Cole, so did Franklin, but the Rangers representative came forward with Garibaldi. "I'm glad to meet you, Aline," Marcus said cordially. "I've been hearing your name ever since I've been part of the game." "The Great Game?" Aline asked with a slight smile and he nodded. "Even Kipling would be a little outclassed by what we're facing, I think." Beside her, Garth Kalder was silent. Marcus looked at him. "What's your rationale for being here? Don't you have to give some account of your activities to the Corps?" "Investigating Babylon 5 always looks good on a report," Kalder said mildly and Marcus smiled. "I'm sure it does. Good hunting. Let me know if you need any help." He went out, skilfully managing the folds of his cloak as he walked. Kalder shook his head wonderingly. "He's straight out of Celtic mythology." "I don't know any, but I'll take your word for it," Garibaldi agreed. "Now, I'll show you some tape of the man you're looking for." "It's not the man himself we want, is it?" Aline asked as they headed for Garibaldi's office. "No. We can't touch him - yet. We want one of his associates, but you won't see them. Look, wait till you see the tape. There's no way I can explain without showing you." * The woman was clearly lost. She was small and slim, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and she held a bag close against her chest. When Zack approached her, she jumped and almost ran for it. "Can I help you?" he asked. "Maybe. I'm looking for someone." Zack glanced about the crowded Zocalo and drew the young woman out of the crush to a relatively quiet spot by a wall. "This probably isn't the best time or place to do it. What's his or her name? I can check assigned quarters for you." "I don't know if he's here." "Well, I'll check." "Here on the station, I mean. It's taken me this long to be able to save enough to come out, you know. It's stupid, but I have to know what happened, no matter how long it takes." Great, Zack thought. Why do I get the space cases? Am I wearing a sign saying: SUCKER HERE? He waited and finally she produced a photo. "This is him. His name's Reiner Morden." Zack knew he was staring at her. His face had frozen. Inside he was thinking: ohshit, ohshit, ohshit. Got to tell the chief . . . Captain Sheridan. Oh shit. "Uh, right," he stammered. "Hold on a minute." When Garibaldi's voice answered his page, he couldn't think of anything to say for a moment. "You still there, Zack?" "Uh, yeah, Chief. Look, there's this woman here, trying to find a guy. She's got his picture. Guy's name is Morden, Reiner Morden." Up till then, Zack had always thought deafening silence was kind of a silly thing to say. Then Garibaldi's voice returned. "Bring her up to my office, would you, Zack?" * Aline grinned over at Garth, who was carefully water- spraying the bonsai according to instructions. For someone who'd probably never owned so much as a pot-plant, he wasn't doing badly. "What do you think?" "They're fine, aren't they? Green. What more do you - oh, you mean the inquisition?" Meticulously he finished spraying a Chinese Elm's tiny leaves and set down the spray bottle. "I think it was a mistake to give them any information about our families." "Sorry. I was nervous." "Still, no harm done. Yet." "Thank you." "I really don't think they'll consider hereditary witch covens a threat, not with alien religions and all. Your fellow Ranger looks like he belongs in one." Garth raised his eyebrows and grinned. So did Aline. "Yes. Definitely cute as well," she agreed. "I think I'll stroll around," Garth said. "I know Mr Garibaldi didn't think Morden was on the station, but I get the feeling our target is capable of sneaking past." "He's capable of damn near anything," Aline said quietly. "Yes, you're right, a general scan won't alert anyone, will it?" Garth shook his head. "I'll see you later then, after I shut the shop for today." * "It was late 2256," the young woman told Garibaldi and Sheridan. "He was maintenance tech aboard the Icarus, heading for the Rim on that survey. I didn't want him to go, but of course you don't say that." "No," Sheridan murmured, "you don't." "And then the ship just disappeared. I did what investigating I could on Earth, but that wasn't very much, and then I managed to get as far as Mars. Since then I've been saving to make the trip here. People told me . . . you can learn what you need to know on Babylon 5. It's got a reputation for that." Garibaldi couldn't help grinning. Sheridan shot him a quelling glance. "And, if you don't mind my asking, what's your relationship to Mr Morden?" "Fiancee," the woman answered promptly. She coloured. "I suppose you think it's stupid, chasing Reiner like this. If he's not dead, then he . . . he can't want me to find him, can he?" "Might we ask your name?" Sheridan asked gently. "Ashley Campion." She caught a look passed between the two officers. "You know something, don't you? Please, you have to tell me. Even if he's dead, at least I can stop looking and get on with my life." "It's not quite that simple," Sheridan answered reluctantly. "It's not simple at all. You see, we think we know the man you're looking for, but he - he isn't the same man you knew. I doubt he remembers you at all." "Amnesia?" * Marcus watched the Psicop. Odd, he mused; there's not exactly a shortage of militaristic black uniforms about, yet that one provides its very own shiver down one's spine. There's an empty space about him even when someone has to move within it. Garth was sitting at a table, eating what might have been lunch and carefully not looking at anyone about. He did not look up even when Marcus strolled over and pulled out a chair. "Mind if I sit down?" "Please." Garth glanced up then, waved a hand and finished chewing his current mouthful. "I'm grateful for anyone who'll sit with the leper." Marcus grinned his appreciation for that. "So. How did you manage to join the Psi Corps and come out as a human being?" "Visits from family," said Garth, picking up his coffee. "I didn't think a telepath ever saw his or her family once the Psi Corps took them. Don't they lock you up in an impenetrable fortress or something?" "Something," Garth agreed. "Are you aware that the Psicops are chosen for telepathic potential, not duration of service?" Marcus nodded. "Given that, what's your point?" "First, that I was seventeen when the Corps took me. I'd been ill as a child and skipped the pre-school and Twelve-plus testings, so they didn't get me until I'd nearly finished my regular schooling. I'd had some experience of the world, unlike the younger kids. Some show potential at five or six, but they're not necessarily the strongest telepaths. Anyway, it was much easier for the Corps to allow me a clan visit once a month, rather than have to call in a bunch of Psicops to control me." He smiled easily. Marcus did not. "That was twelve years ago and not a peep out of me since." "I'm sorry," Marcus said. "Oh, don't be. It's a compliment that you call me a human being. The Earthforce officers, Captain Sheridan and the others, seem to be reserving judgment on that one for now." "They have reason. If you and Lorell can do what Ranger One says you can do . . . " Marcus trailed off, not sure what he could say. He realised suddenly that he had, at a subconscious level, trusted the telepath not to scan him. Certainly Garth seemed wholly absorbed in his less- than-enthralling lunch. "I'm told I'll know when we see the target. You do realise I can't scan or compel anyone for you, no matter what the reason?" "Yes," Marcus agreed. He didn't try to hide his irony; this man would read that anyway, even if he kept to his ethics. A P12's telepathy was so strong that even shielded, he moved among a constant buzz of human thoughts and feelings. Garibaldi had said something about that in re Bester when they'd given him a drug to suppress his telepathy while he was on the station. Bester had commented on the quiet - in the middle of the raucous Zocalo - with every indication of sincerity and even relief. Garth abruptly looked past him. Marcus twisted slightly to follow the direction of the Psicop's gaze. Garibaldi was walking towards them, accompanied by a young woman whom Marcus did not know. She seemed distressed, almost dazed, but she came along with Garibaldi when the Security Chief approached them. "Marcus Cole, Garth Kalder," Garibaldi said. "This is Ashley Campion. You should be aware of her. She's also looking for our friend." "Do you know Reiner?" Ashley asked, blurting the words. She didn't seem aware of what Garth was, though as a Terran she had to know the Corps. "No," Garth answered her kindly before Marcus could think of a reply. "No, we don't, but we need to find him." He looked the question at Garibaldi. "Ashley's his fiancee." "Was his fiancee," the young woman said, with more strength than they would have expected from her presentation. "They said he's changed, that he won't remember. But I need to see him, to know that." "I'm taking Ms Campion to her quarters," Garibaldi added. "She needs to rest. I'll talk with you later." He addressed the comment somewhere between Garth's shoulder and Marcus, before steering Ashley Campion away. "He meant me, I suppose?" Garth murmured. "That could be a complication - her wandering about, I mean." "A distraction, maybe?" Marcus said. "She'd get his attention, give you a chance to scan the area. The area, I said." "You're assuming that because Morden's attention is elsewhere, the same is true for his associates. I doubt that's the case. If their attention becomes focused on that young woman, I'd be most concerned for her safety." Garth thought hard for a few moments, then stood. "I need to talk to Aline." "And I'll talk to some of my friends. If Morden is on the station, we should know it soon." "Could you tell if she was lying?" Aline Lorell asked. She sat on her bedroll, pulling off her boots. Garth leaned on the partition; black shadow against gray. "Come on, you think Garibaldi brought her up to you just to say good day?" "She wasn't lying," Garth sighed. "She's very scared and she loves this man very much." Aline regarded him. "Morden is the link for the Shadows," she said softly. "You know that, don't you? If he was ever human, it's buried deep inside him, maybe wiped out altogether. Goddess knows what the Shadows can do to someone's mind." "Maybe She does. I don't." He left, his boots making sharp, neat sounds on the floor. Aline stretched out on the futon, looking up at the featureless gray ceiling. "Tomorrow, we go hunting," she whispered. End of part 2 From: Sue Isle Subject: SPIDERTRAP Part 3 Date: Thu, 27 Mar 1997 20:09:28 +0800 (WST) Same disclaimer as for earlier parts: this is a Babylon 5 story written for fun and not intended to breach anyone's copyright. Comments welcome! Thanks for the encouragement so far! ____________________________________________________ SPIDERTRAP Part 3 A Season 3 Babylon 5 Story by Sue Isle Babylon Five's night was no different from its day. Different faces, maybe, doing the same tasks. The planet below kept turning, ships kept coming in and departing. The lost found no rest. She walked, scared but determined, amid the crowds of strangers of many worlds. The wide passageways all seemed the same to her, the shops and cafeterias unfamiliar. She didn't make note of the human faces. Only one face was real to her, sharply outlined against the blurs, and against all probability, she saw that one. Ashley Campion stopped abruptly, earning a grumbled curse from the Narn behind her, but she did not even see the tall, knobbly alien. Before her, the man in black came on. Black coat, neat black trousers, dark jersey, absorbed in his thoughts. Ashley stared at his face, pale beneath the black hair. He never caught the sun, even on Earth where you could walk freely outside. Morden saw her, noting as always any interest from anyone on Babylon Five, particularly now when he had to go and come without notice from Earthforce, but his gaze was blank, giving her only a brief smile. He would not be drawn into any human's concerns, it was too dangerous, however long it had been since a woman looked at him that way. How long had it been? His introspective smile wavered a little as the thoughts shifted inside his mind, never quite becoming clear. "Reiner?" she said. "Reiner, it's Ashley. Don't you know me?" "I'm sorry," he murmured, turning to pass her. "You must have me confused with someone else." And he was gone, leaving her caught in grief and confusion and, for that moment, doubt. Had she been mistaken? No, Ashley thought fiercely, it had been too long for that. She'd been dedicated to finding him ever since she knew he was lost. His face was more familiar to her than those of her parents. Yet this man had not known her. There'd been no flash of recognition, quickly hidden. Nothing. He'd smiled when he saw her looking at him, a stranger's smile. She went to her sparsely-furnished room as to a den, a dark hole in which to hide. She stayed there until the morning, not sleeping, and then wearily went in search of breakfast. In one of the station's dining halls, she saw a black-uniformed figure on his own. The Psicop, she remembered; one of the people she'd been introduced to last night. Telepaths made her nervous; you never knew when they might be snooping about in your head. Right now she was almost too tired to care and besides, he had been kind. She walked up to his table and around where he could see her. "Hello." "Ms Campion! Please, have a seat." "Ashley." She sat, plopping down like a sack of potatoes, and rubbed her eyes. Garth Kalder studied her anxiously. "Would you like some coffee? Something to eat?" "Just coffee." He went over to the server line to get it and brought back cup, sachet of whitener and sugar. "Thank you," Ashley said. The routine of adding them to the coffee helped to steady her. She took a sip, then a larger gulp, before looking over at her companion. "I saw him last shift," she said. "I thought you might have," Garth said. "What happened?" She began to tell him, then thought of something. "You'd get a better idea, picture or whatever, if you looked in my mind, wouldn't you?" "I would," Garth said gently, "but not that much better." He paused, looking past her. She turned, seeing a blond woman weaving her way among the tables. Garth waved and she came over to them. "My partner, Aline Lorell. Ali, Ashley Campion. Please finish what you were saying, Ashley." Aline Lorell didn't wear the Psi Corps badge; nor did she wear the rather prim outfits working telepaths affected, but how could she be a Psicop's partner if she wasn't in the Corps? Stammering a little, Ashley told them what had happened to her. "And he didn't know me. I swear he didn't. He just smiled and said I must have him confused with somebody else. But I didn't - I couldn't, not now, not after so long!" "You were told he probably wouldn't know you, weren't you?" Garth asked and she nodded wretchedly. "He didn't act suspicious in any way?" "No, he just kept on walking after that." "Good. You mustn't pay any attention to him if you do see him again." "I can't just let him disappear. If you talk to someone with amnesia about their life, they sometimes remember, don't they?" "If that's all it is, yes," Aline said, not without sympathy. "But we have a job to do and if you get in the way, it'll make that job difficult and possibly put you in danger. No, I can't explain, but you're going to have to stay clear." "What if I won't?" Ashley demanded. "Then I'll ask Mr Garibaldi to lock you up," Aline said, not smiling. "What we have to do is very important. It can't be screwed up by you being stubborn." She and Ashley were eye-to-eye; the one near to tears but refusing to back down, the other warning and obdurate. Garth Kalder leaned back in his chair and reached for his coffee. He would do well to stay out of this. Over the heads of seated people he saw someone else casting about. Marcus Cole's distinctive face and garb were not easily forgotten. Garth smiled and sipped his coffee as Marcus came towards them. It was already looking like a very interesting day. Marcus looked at the two women, then over their heads at Garth. "What did I miss?" "She's seen Morden," the Psicop explained. "She's refusing to stay out of the way and Aline has - ah - suggested consulting Mr Garibaldi about alternative accommodation for her." Marcus's face brightened into a grin of pure delight. "You mean the brig?" "I was trying not to say that." Marcus pulled back the last chair, sat down and cleared his throat. Aline broke off her stare and regarded him. So did Ashley, somewhat taken aback. "Now," he said, "have you heard the phrase: if you can't beat them, join them?" She nodded. "All right. What is there for you if you can't get Morden to recognise you?" "I don't know," Ashley whispered. "Go back home, I guess, find another job. Try to not hear the murmurs and the laughter about the woman who chased her lover around the galaxy." "I think I know another job," Marcus said, "if you have what it takes. Are you willing to hear some information that EarthGov would kill you for possessing?" His pale blue eyes bore into hers. "I'm not playing here, Ashley Campion. It isn't just dangerous knowledge, it's deadly. You won't go home, once you've heard it." Ashley shrugged. "I don't care. Nowhere's really my home - except in the sense that Earth is my world and can't ever be replaced." "Do you know what you're doing, Marcus?" Aline warned. "Not really. Do you?" She laughed a little and opened her hands, palms up. "Who does? I'm not sure she's got the guts to be a Ranger, though." "She stood up to you," Garth murmured. "You shut up." Ashley gaped at that, but Garth only grinned. "Do something useful. You find out if she's got the guts." "You'll only know that by testing. If I scan her, I'll only get what she believes." "All right." Aline pushed her chair back. "I don't think I'm hungry anymore. Let's go and take care of the trees." It was close to the end of that "day" when Marcus led his three team-mates into Captain Sheridan's office. Commander Ivanova smiled an abstracted hello to him, then went frozen when she saw the black-clad Psicop following him. "Captain Sheridan isn't - what are you doing here?" "She's going to help us," was all Marcus said, nodding at Ashley. "Excuse me; did I just switch universes without noticing?" Ivanova gave Ashley a look of steel. "You've babbled all our secrets to her, I take it?" "Not _babbled_," Marcus said, hurt. "Marcus," Aline said, "why don't you and Garth go get a drink or something and let me explain? It'll be a lot clearer that way." "Are you throwing us out?" "If she doesn't, I will," Ivanova said pleasantly. "Fine. We know when we aren't wanted. Garth?" When they were gone, Aline put her head on her hand and groaned softly, as one in great pain. Ivanova looked at her with the beginnings of sympathy. "All right, now maybe we can get something done." "I hope so," Aline answered. "Ashley is going to help us throw the spiderweb." Ivanova looked at the young woman, whose face remained calm. "You know what she's talking about?" "I know she's an empath," Ashley said, very quietly. "Just as Garth is a telepath. He can see the Shadows around Rei - around Morden. She can lure them." "According to the information we got from Ranger One, passed on from this station," Aline said carefully, "Talia Winters was able to detect the . . . creatures around Morden." Ivanova nodded, her face expressionless. "Garth is seven degrees stronger as a telepath. We think he can immobilise the ones with Morden." "While you do what?" "Try to reach Morden," Aline said. "My talent, my empathy, acts on the emotions as Garth's ability acts on thoughts. Morden is the Shadows' Human link, perhaps their only link. If we can learn what he knows and have him cooperate, that information could be invaluable." She nodded towards Ashley. "We think she can probably talk to him without his being suspicious, get him to a spot where Garth and I can act. When we have some idea if he's still on the station, that is." "Before that, I need to get some rest," Ashley said before Ivanova could answer. She looked weary and tense. "I've got a lot to think over." "Don't wander anywhere else," Ivanova warned her. "We may need to find you at very short notice." "Don't worry, I won't." The young woman went out quickly. "I don't think I made a friend there," Ivanova murmured. "Nor me," Aline said. "Deep down, she still thinks we're interfering in her private life." "Well, we are," Ivanova retorted. She touched her wrist com. "Captain? All clear." To Aline she added. "Captain Sheridan and Mr Garibaldi will be here in a moment and then we'll begin a search of the station until Morden is found. There won't be too many people around - it's the alterday shift - and you're not going to get a better time to do what you need to do. Why don't you get some rest? Same goes for you as for her." "All right." Aline stood. She thought of asking Ivanova to pass the message on to Garth, when he and Marcus finally surfaced from their station-wide bar crawl or whatever they were up to, then did not. Most of the anti- Corps feeling, though not all, came from Ivanova, a miasma of distrust and grief, as though the Corps or someone in the Corps was personally responsible for how she felt. For more, she would need Garth's abilities. She returned to the room where her trees waited, and calmed herself by moving among them, giving them a spray of water where required, a tiny clipping here or there. Maybe a touch more light for this one, she thought; she'd see if the level could be increased a little. Already several had been sold, along with a small booklet on their care. She hoped that the new owners would care for the trees, and that the trees themselves would do their job of calming and brightening the lives of the people. Only then did she go to the partition and lie down on the futon, still fully dressed. "This is definitely deeper than I know," Garth said, shaking his head. "Conspiracies knee-deep, Shadows in space . . . " "Oh, they're considerably deeper than that," Marcus said cheerfully. "You saw the ISN pictures of the Shadow ships, didn't you?" Garth nodded. "Babylon 5 has known about them for quite a bit longer, but they had no proof." They sat in a booth within the Dark Star bar, somewhere even a Psicop's uniform would not be noticed overmuch, or if it was, the assumption would be that Garth had stolen it somehow. "Sometimes I wish my superiors confided in me more than they do," Garth said abruptly. "I am sure they already know these things, but I have no proof either." "So there are gradings even within P12?" Garth focused on him, as well as he might in the dim light. "In a sense. It's telepathic ability that made me a Psicop, but it's those who've been there the longest who run the show. Think of it like the "real" police force; it's the young, physically fit people with good reactions who go out on the street, but it's the gray-haired inspectors who make the decisions." "I think of it more like an army," Marcus said, "where it's the young who die for the generals' cause." "True," Garth said, more grimly than he had meant. He did not want to feel grim. This was a breathing space where he could relax, enjoy Marcus' company and even joke a little. Marcus neither hated nor resented him and that was a gift. "So what about Alfred Bester?" "What about him?" "He's one of the upper echelons, isn't he?" Garth hesitated a long while, then reached for his drink and gulped it. "Where you see him, you know the Corps is interested and then you worry. I imagine the people here already know that." Marcus nodded slowly, not speaking. His attention flickered around the dark room, just checking, then returned to Garth. "Bester is not well-liked," Garth added. "I would pity him if I dared." Marcus considered the implications of that and shivered a little. "There's a lot I'd like to ask you," he said, abandoning that topic with some relief. "About what it's like in the Corps, but you wouldn't be allowed to tell me, would you?" "Oh, general life, it's not a problem. Haven't you met other telepaths?" "Minbari telepaths." Garth grinned. "I don't imagine they talk to you much more than any other Minbari." "Well, no," Marcus allowed, also smiling. "So, what would you like to know?" "Is it true they arrange marriages for you?" "Straight in," Garth shook his head, but he didn't seem really bothered. "Yes, that's true. Like pedigreed cats or dogs. They always want higher grade telepaths, so they try mating higher grades with lower grades in the hope they'll get more top grades." "What if you don't want to?" "There's no such thing as don't want to, at least, they won't hear it. It's not so bad. They match you up; if there's any compatibility at all, you go ahead and produce the child required, then you're free to be with whoever you like. Some partners become genuinely fond of one another and live together. Where there's no chance of compatibility - " Garth shrugged, " - well, all they really need is the sperm and ova, after all." Marcus grimaced. "I didn't mean to get that personal." "You didn't. I did. Like various other things, that's one facet of the Corps I didn't take to very well." He broke off as several security men entered the Dark Star, Lou Welch at their head. Lou spotted Marcus and came quickly over to them. "You and him better come. There's some bad trouble." "What kind of bad trouble?" "Don't know, just the Chief said to get you and him." Lou avoided even looking at Garth, who had risen to his feet. Marcus led the way out, going right through the group of security men. The Psicop followed. From: Sue Isle Subject: SPIDERTRAP Part 4 Date: Sat, 29 Mar 1997 21:16:03 +0800 (WST) This is an amateur b5 story written for fun and is not intended to breach any copyright involved with the television production Babylon 5. Where is everyone? The list seems *very* quiet these days, not half as busy as it was last time I was here. Makes me wonder if everyone's taken off for the Rim . . . Sue SPIDERTRAP Part 4 A Season 3 Babylon 5 Story by Sue Isle "Ms Lorell?" Ivanova's voice was loud and intrusive in her ear and Aline, most of the way into sleep, nearly ran her head into the partition. "We've got something. Someone'll be along to get you in two minutes." It was more like one-and-a-half. The Security people half ushered, half shoved her along, through a confusing array of corridors and elevators. She was sure they were going downwards, though. The corridor where they fetched up was stark gray and empty, not a Lurker in sight, and the temperature felt several degrees lower than her quarters. The only people there were Ivanova, Garibaldi, Marcus and Garth. Correction. The only moving people. The blanket- covered heap on the floor wasn't going anywhere. "Ashley?" Aline asked, hearing her own voice shake a little, though whether with nerves or anger, she couldn't be sure. Ivanova nodded. Aline didn't ask the next question. She couldn't sense any more from the figure on the floor than from a stone. "There were a couple of Lurkers, heading fast the other way," Garibaldi said, waving an arm to indicate the direction. "That was before we got to her. I yelled what's happening and one said a woman just fell dead. That was it, they were gone through a hole in the wall before I could stop them." Garth looked around, but he wasn't seeing them or the gray walls. Aline knew he was checking whatever lay beyond those walls for knowledge or guilt. Finally he looked at her and shook his head. "A few eyes, but all they saw was a woman falling dead." "Detail," Aline said. Ivanova's expression was cold and remote, studying them both. "She was walking along, by herself, and fell dead." Running feet and an annoyed monologue further down the passage announced the arrival of Dr Stephen Franklin and his med team. Ashley Campion was loaded on to a wheeled bed, while Ivanova bleakly repeated Garth's words. "You got witnesses to that?" Franklin asked. Ivanova sighed. Franklin glanced up, seeing Garth's uniform as though for the first time. "Oh. All right. I'll have a report to you asap, then, Susan." He and his team were gone with a rattle of wheels and caterpillar feet. Those left behind looked at one another, very much as mourners at a funeral, except this death was too stark, too recent and raw. "They did it," Ivanova said, her voice a low growl. "They were afraid he would remember." "And do what?" Garibaldi asked. "That doesn't make sense." "What does?" She turned, stalking after Franklin without saying anything to Aline or Garth. Garibaldi paused to regard them. "Well, do we go hunting?" "We do," Aline said quietly. "That's what we're here for." She and Garth nodded to them and walked away, into the unnaturally-silent Downbelow. "What she said," Garibaldi told Marcus. A five-mile space station, spinning around with a nuclear reactor at its core, could not possibly be as silent as it seemed. Yet here in its guts, Garth and Aline might have been alone. "If it's necessary," Aline said to him, "you know what needs to be done." "Merry met," he said, not smiling. "Merry part. Merry meet again." She touched him, lightly on the cheek, and walked away, leaving him standing there in the gray silence between the stars. Garth heard, as sharply and clearly as though she had spoken aloud, Aline's final thought pointed at him. "In every spiderweb, there must be a spider." Then, several minutes later, the wave of emotion crashed into him and he staggered back, his hand against a wall. The wave was fear and loss and loneliness, enough to give thousands of sleepers on the station nightmares, and it would be very tasty to something that ravened like the Shadows. Yet Garth held his ground, resisting his urge to run to Aline's aid. She did not need him, not yet. Aline heard the single set of footsteps, but knew that the man who made them did not walk alone. It took all her courage to stand there and wait for him to round the passage and come into view. Her first awareness of the Shadows was of cold, a clinging darkness on the edge of her senses as they moved closer, curious, eager to feed. Morden stopped and his Shadows stopped also, clustering about him. "Well, this is a surprise." His voice was pleasant, courteous and relaxed. His dark gaze never left Aline's face. "A simple request for a meeting would have done." Garth moved. He approached on Aline's other side; Morden would see him as soon as he saw Morden. So far, the Shadows were making no move, but Aline couldn't see them. Her empathy let her sense them like rotting garbage floating in fouled water, but it wasn't as precise as telepathy. "I doubt it," Aline was saying as he turned the corner and saw her standing alone, facing the Shadow-darkened man. Garth gasped as he saw the huge spiky forms, straight out of nightmare, shifting and winding about Morden. Their ally smiled at him. "We have something to show you," Garth said and struck, cobra-swift, into Morden's mind. He did not do the forbidden scan, only the thing nearly as bad, the forced rapport. He showed Morden Ashley, first as she had been, scared but determined to find him, then as the still thing on the deck of Downbelow. Morden frowned in puzzlement. "I don't know this woman. I told her before." "Ali?" "Nothing," Ali said, gaze still fixed on Morden. "He's like ice, he feels nothing at all." "Ice can be broken," Garth said. "I don't think this is within your charter," Morden remarked. "What will your chiefs think when they are told of this, Psicop?" Garth grinned. "So you are able to tell them, are you?" Aline hardly heard what her partner said. She concentrated on sending Morden Ashley; her loneliness and strength, the love which had brought her out here to seek him. In these brief hours she'd learned the young woman, learned her enough to pass to Morden the message Ashley would have given. She saw his concentration falter for a moment. He half-raised a hand to his face, then let it fall once more, turning slightly away from her. In that instant, the Shadow leapt for her. She sensed an advance of foulness, a concentration of threat. Something was upon her. Aline fell backwards, feeling a slimy darkness, cold as space, over every inch of her skin. She tried to scream out loud but could make no sound. A fuzzy dizziness was inside her head, confusing her thought. Her blood seemed to drain out of her, pint by pint, and she sprawled like a dead thing upon the floor. Garth rallied all the power he had to freeze the Shadow's attack. One of the other Shadows broke past him and a second. Oddly, they made no real effort to attack him once they realised Garth wouldn't be fooled by a feint. They blurred into nothing and were gone, leaving Morden alone except for the one on Aline. Garth ignored him. He stopped, facing the thing. "Now you deal with the Corps," he said. He couldn't read it. It was nothing like human, it didn't even think in the sense Humans or Minbari or Narn did, but it was a sentient thing that wanted to destroy all their races. So Garth told it and Morden what they were facing. _Many, many of the old covens were caught in Psicorp's trap. We didn't know what it was until way too late. The telepathic genes were strong in the witch groups. We had always been telepaths, empaths, firestarters and true dreamers. Some embraced the Corps as freedom, until they realised how it isolated them from their own people and from the Earth. Those who were left resolved to hold on to their children if they could, and if not, they would not forget those children. They would fight to keep those bonds of family and memory in the minds of the lost ones. Sometimes the Corps wins, Garth said silently, and the child forgets, but other times, other times the dreams of moonlight and fire, of Horned Lord and Lady of the Moon, remain in the blood and in the soul. You deal with the Corps. You deal with the children of the Lady. The Technomages served magic too; the wonders of science and spell combined. They take that power and that wonder to safety beyond our stars, but we stay. We will not back down._ Did the Shadow understand? Garth felt it release Aline and reach to him, almost in the manner of a telepath itself, and his energy began to flee. He flung pain at the thing as he would have done at a human enemy and found less resistance than he had expected. Morden's confusion seemed to form a path. For a long, long time the Shadow stood still and then it abruptly crumbled. Before Garth's eyes the whole spiky black alien creature became dust, motes on the floor at Aline's feet. Headache drums beat inside Garth's head as he reached her. He tried to lift her but his own weakness convinced him otherwise. He crouched, looking up at Morden, who had not moved. "Did you hear me? We didn't lie to you, you know. Ashley came looking for you." "No," said Morden and he walked away. Garth shouted at him, inside his mind. *Reiner*! But Morden's barricade of ice did not even shake. Garibaldi's people found them maybe an hour later, and not long after, Dr Franklin had two more patients in his Medlab and an amazing story to tell Sheridan and Ivanova. He offered to use his alien machine to restore the energies of Aline and Garth, but they refused. "We'll be all right soon," Aline said. "We're only sorry we couldn't catch one like we were supposed to." "We did," Garth corrected. "It took its own life." "Where's Morden?" Aline asked weakly. "Left the station," Garibaldi told them, pushing forward to stand between their beds. "One of my people saw him getting on a ship and we'd no reason to hold the bastard." Presently, Aline slept, dreamless and exhausted. Garth dozed, then came out of it to realise that Marcus was in the room. Almost medieval in his Ranger garments and cloak pinned about himself, his thoughtful gaze regarded the Psicop. "We failed," Garth said. "No. You didn't die." Marcus shook his head wonderingly. "That is a success beyond anything we've achieved. Now we only have to find out why. Does the Corps know about you, Garth?" "Not really. But what do you think they'll find if they look? A lot of outmoded beliefs?" Marcus smiled. "You're the heart of the Corps, the spirit that justifies its existence. I didn't believe the Psicorps had one, before now." "Well, thank you," Garth said, embarrassed. "But the Shadows know," Marcus said, his grin widening when he saw that Garth had got the ancient joke. "You may have shaken their sleep a little, if they do sleep." "And Morden? Did we shake his sleep?" "You may have reminded him that he is human. I hope so. That is the only chance any of us have." He was gone like a shadow himself, leaving Garth to think on his words and eventually to sleep. "Ashley was right, wasn't she?" Aline's voice drifted quietly to him, sometime later during the night shift. "She really was the fiancee of the person Morden used to be." "I can't be certain. I never scanned him." "I felt it in her." "What will happen in Morden, when he remembers? When he comes back?" "Maybe he remembers now, deep down. Maybe somewhere inside he's screaming, a scream that never stops." Aline's voice shook as though she was frightening herself with her own words. "Ali, if I go after him again, the Corps will have my head." "I think they'd want more than _your_ head," Aline said, still quiet. "They know of him, and those creatures. They must!" "And you still want me - us - to go after him?" She didn't deny it. They had worked together so long now that he never needed telepathy to know. Not that he would have. "Yes - I don't know. I'm not sure there's anything left of Reiner Morden to bring back. A shred of self. And these people; Sheridan, Ivanova, the others, they'd never let him go. We aren't hatchet men, to deliver the mercy stroke - but who else is there?" Garth sat up carefully in the bed. His strength seemed to have returned, at least, he felt much as always. "I'd have to leave the Corps, for that." He stared over at her. "I hated the Corps for years. But now, it's home." "Never mother and father," Aline said and he nodded. "We saved that much." She watched him get out of the bed and begin to dress, keeping a wary eye out for Dr Franklin. When she moved, Aline still felt the drained sensation running through her body. "Look, you know you don't have to go back. Ranger One could get you to Minbar or one of their colonies, you'd be able to come back here anytime without the Corps knowing." "I'll think about it." * Aline came from watering the trees, in her work tunic and pants, all in an annoyed, anxious rush. Garth was patiently waiting for the boarding call, his attention directed towards the ship. "You," she growled. "I said I'd think about it. I thought. Ali, the Corps will let me come back here if I file a request. A P12 gets that sort of leeway - especially if they think Babylon 5 will talk to him." The clear, impersonal voice announcing boarding call for the _von Braun_ rippled over their heads. Garth hugged Aline hard. "All right," she gasped, trying to get her breath, "ease off. Don't unpack your bag when you get home, you might be needed back here faster than you think. And remember what I said about sounding out some of the others, carefully." "You don't need to tell me that. Do I tell you how to grow little trees?" He headed away, waving to her until he could no longer see her. Aline sighed and turned also to go back to her room. It always got back to growth, somehow, the survival of something you never thought could make it, the unexpected good luck that was their whole species. The chance to draw another breath and keep living. Until the next time. THE END