Address criticisms to [[email protected]]
  
  ****************************

1100 Hours the day after Lyta's arrival on Gohr:

   Lyta had completed the question and answer period with the astronomy 
personnel. "I don't suppose that any of you can put me in contact with a good 
anthropologist, can you?"

   "I know a couple of people who are very well known in that arena, Ms. 
Alexander," replied Professor Stath.

   "Do you think any of them would be interested in a close-up and personal 
visit to Slor. They'll have the chance to collect blood and tissue samples for 
research."

   The young man who had disagreed with her earlier asked, "Will they be 
subject to being eaten, Ms. Alexander?"

   Lyta smiled and replied, "No, Mister, what is your name, anyway?"

   "My name is Meltin Flou."

   "Mr. Flou, no harm will come to anyone who visits Slor with me, as long as 
they do exactly what I say. If they don't, well, it'll be to their dismay and 
extreme discomfort."

   "That sounds like a nice way of saying they won't come back in one piece."

   "I thought so myself."

   "It will take me some time to get a definitive answer for you, Ms. 
Alexander," commented Stath.

   "Can you recommend a place where I can get lunch?"

   "The cafeteria isn't too bad Ms. Alexander," offered Flou. "I'm just not 
sure that the fare is human friendly."

   "It's not a problem. I can eat almost anything, as long as it hasn't been 
dead too long."

   "Give me until 1300 hours, Ms. Alexander. I should have something for you by 
then," said Stath.

******************************

1300 in the Observatory cafeteria:

   Lyta ate an uninspiring lunch, while listening to Professor Flou and two of 
his fellow academics expound on why her solution to the Slorian problem was 
inhumane and shortsighted. She ate in silence and let them do all the talking. 
Only occasionally did she give a nonjudgmental grunt to answer questions that 
they posed to her. Their lack of real knowledge, about any other culture than 
their own, was made painfully evident by their parochial approach to their 
subject, and it made a logical discussion of the subject all but impossible. 
Lyta smiled pleasantly and took her time finishing her meal. She wondered if 
beings like Lorien, the Vorlons and the Shadows looked upon humans, and other 
younger races the way she was seeing these learned men. If they did, it 
explained their condescending attitudes toward the younger races. To put an end 
to the useless discussion, she offered to let them tag along and learn the 
truth about the Slorians. They declined and she showed them, in their minds, 
her first encounter with the Slorians. After she finished, they sat silently 
regarding her.

   "That's how they see you and any other species they may encounter in the 
future."

   "There's no way to prove what we just 'saw' represents the truth."

   "Put your glass in the center of your plate."

   Flou did as she instructed.

   "Just a bit of parlor magic, if you will."

   The three men watched in silence as the glass fell apart into a small pile 
of powder. "Touch it. Then tell me it isn't real."

   Flou put his finger into the small pile of powder. "How did you do that?"

   "I just thought about it."

   "It's a trick. No one can do that."

   "If you won't believe a hard, solid, real fact that you can see and feel, 
then nothing I can possibly say, do or show you will ever be enough proof for 
you. That's why I don't bother to listen to or consider anything you say. You 
have provided me with a mildly entertaining lunch, but nothing more. You are 
ignorant of the galaxy around you, and you don't even know it. Now, if you 
don't mind, I have a meeting with Professor Stath, and I'm already late."

   Lyta walked away from the men and never looked back. They started discussing 
whom they might convince to intervene with her and get her to stop her plans. 
They agreed it would have to be someone very high up in the planetary 
government. Professor Flou agreed to try some contacts he had. Fingering the 
powdered glass the men still believed it was a cheap trick, although they had 
no idea how it was done.

******************************

In Stath's office:

   "I'm sorry I'm late, Professor."

   "Not a problem, Ms. Alexander. I'm still waiting for the people I called to 
return my calls. It seems that everyone picked this morning to be somewhere 
else."

   "I suffered through lunch listening to Professor Flou and two of his 
colleagues trying their best to convince me that my plans are all wrong. It was 
like listening to children who don't understand something, and can't realize 
they don't know enough to understand that they don't understand whatever it may 
be."

   "They don't know about what you explained to us the first time you were 
here. Professor Flou and his friends don't even know it was you who was 
responsible for us being allowed to join the Interstellar Alliance."

   "I need to go pick up some iron ore, Professor. I'll contact you early 
tomorrow morning. If you have managed to interest anyone in my proposal, I'll 
return and pick them up. If anyone agrees to go, I suggest they bring enough 
socks and underwear for at least two standard weeks. My shuttle has limited 
laundry facilities, and I don't even have any Gohrian food on board."

   "How much iron ore are you planning to get?"

   "My shuttle can carry fifty metric tons without any problems. You have an 
asteroid belt around your largest gas giant. I'll gather what I need there."

   "What do you need that much iron for?"

   "I use it to make bombs."

   "I've heard of using iron to make bombs, but what are you going to use for 
the explosive?"

   "I plan to use elements that don't exist, Professor. Don't ask me how. You 
wouldn't believe me if I told you."

   "I'll take your word for that, Ms. Alexander."

   As soon as Lyta left his office, Professor Stath called Jerl Sthul, the 
president's aide.

******************************

In Jerl Sthul's office:

   "What do you have to show me that's so important, Professor Stath?"

   "I'm not sure important is the correct term, Jerl. However, I want to show 
you what the Alexander woman showed us. If you think it's worth it, we can then 
show it to the president. Fair enough?"

   "Show me what you have."

   Professor Stath's projection equipment wasn't even on the same level as 
Lyta's, but it could project a very high quality image on the wall of Sthul's 
office. He gave Sthul the same presentation that Lyta had given him and his 
associates. Lyta had provided him with video of the installation that Draal had 
discovered in the mountain range on Slor. Sthul agreed that it was important 
enough to show the president and some of his advisors. He immediately began to 
set up the time and place for the presentation. It would be a late night for 
everyone in the president's cabinet and for selected leaders from the planetary 
legislature.

******************************

   It was 2000 hours when the president, his available cabinet personnel, his 
military advisors, and the top leaders of the planetary legislature gathered in 
a large meeting room in the planetary capitol building. It took Professor Stath 
just under an hour to complete his presentation. He spent another hour 
answering a barrage of questions. He explained Lyta's feelings, her perception 
of the problem and her thoughts about resolving it. This brought up a 
completely different group of questions. Some concerning her responsibility and 
what gave her that responsibility. Stath answered as best he could. He 
reiterated several times Lyta's offer to transport appropriate personnel to the 
Planet Slor, and protect them while they made studies of the situation. He 
pointed out that two biologists and two anthropologists had expressed an 
interest in accepting Lyta's offer. He also acknowledged that the planet Slor 
was under quarantine. 

   Finally, the president asked, "If we take her up on her offer, we would be 
breaking the treaty we have with the Interstellar Alliance. I cannot in good 
faith approve any mission of this nature. However, upon careful consideration 
of the gravity of the situation, I have to agree that her solution may be the 
only one having any chance of long-term success. I will notify the IA 
ambassador that I have become aware of a problem with our sister planet. I 
won't tell him the source of our information. I will present the data that Lyta 
culled from our own databases as being the result of a project Professor Stath 
instigated, as a  syllabus for training young astronomers in using computer 
analysis to enhance the results of their observations."

   "Mr. President, how do we go about stopping the Alexander woman from 
returning to the planet Slor?" asked his Joint Chief of Staff.

   "We don't have to, general. She is a diplomat according to her passport. She 
can come and go as she wishes. She can carry whatever she wishes in her 
shuttle. After she leaves the planet, we no longer have any jurisdiction over 
her. From a purely legal point of view, what she does after she leaves Gohr is 
the responsibility of the IA. We don't have the spacecraft necessary to 
interdict her. Besides, there is a whitestar in orbit around Slor. It's their 
responsibility to quarantine the planet."

   "How about her statements about her actions concerning the Slorians, sir?" 
asked Jerl Sthul.

   "Do you believe she can do what she claims, Jerl?" countered the president.

   "I have no idea, sir, nor do I know any way of ascertaining such a thing."

   "Then we are stymied. We can't do anything to stop her going to Slor, and we 
surely can't do anything to stop her after she gets there. I suppose we can 
notify the captain of that whitestar about her plans, but it seems that she has 
already been on the planet, and they are apparently unaware of it. General, 
notify the whitestar that there is a shuttle going to be attempting to land on 
Slor in about three or four days. Let them worry about it. Meanwhile, Hryon," 
the president instructed Hryon Kstel, his secretary of state, "Make me up an 
appointment with the IA ambassador for first thing in the morning."

   Looking at Professor Stath, he said, "Fredt, I want you to give the same 
presentation to the IA ambassador you gave here tonight, except that I want you 
to leave out anything connected with Lyta Alexander, and the information she 
provided from the whitestar files. She got us into the IA, and she is 
responsible for Slor being quarantined. So, I don't think she would do anything 
not in our or the IA's best interest." 

******************************

In a small briefing room in the planetary capitol building:

   The Gohrian president, a selected few of his staff and the IA ambassador sat 
quietly while Professor Stath made his presentation. Immediately following the 
presentation, the IA ambassador asked, "Could I get a copy of this. I want to 
forward it to IA headquarters on Minbar. This may change the whole scenario we 
now are using for the Slorian situation."

   "You can have the copy I used for this presentation, Mr. Ambassador," 
replied Professor Stath. 

   "Will it be possible to get copies of the original databases from which this 
was culled, professor?"

   "Of course, sir. I'll have copies delivered to your office no later than 
1300 hours local. Will that be satisfactory?"

   The ambassador agreed that it would, and then thanked the president for 
bringing it to his attention.

   After the ambassador departed, the president looked around at his 
advisors. "I think we have kept up our responsibilities to the IA. We learned 
of a problem and informed them of it. It's their situation now."

   On that note, the meeting adjourned. The president for making sure he knew 
what was developing thanked Professor Stath. He noted that now he could 
intelligently respond to any inquiries generated by the Alexander woman's 
situation. After everyone else except Professor Stath left, the president 
expressed his desire that Gohrian scientists accept the Alexander woman's 
offer, unofficially.

******************************

In Lochley's quarters on Babylon 5:

   "You told me that your reproductive system was so badly damaged that you 
couldn't get pregnant. You and I have been discussing the idea of adopting a 
child every since we started to become serious. Now you're telling me you're 
carrying our child?"

   "I'm afraid so, Larry. I'm sorry I didn't use any birth control, but I 
didn't think it was necessary. I understand how inconvenient this is."

   "From my point of view, it isn't inconvenient. Your superiors in Earthforce 
headquarters may not share my views."

   "I'm only three weeks along. I didn't think this was possible, but now that 
I'm pregnant, I want to follow through with it."

   "If your superiors don't like it, they can always assign someone else as 
commanding officer for the station."

   "Lyta's offer is still on the table. She said, anytime I wanted to chuck it 
in and quit, she'd have a job for me. Maybe it's time to give her a ring."

   "Notify Earthforce headquarters and see what their response is. They might 
not want to assign someone else. After all, being CO of this place hasn't 
exactly been career enhancing in the past."

   "You're right. I'll drop them a message in the morning. If they don't like 
the situation, let them go take a flying leap on a rolling doughnut."

   "Elizabeth, you need to wash your mouth with soap. The gall of using such 
language in the presence of my poor virgin ears."

   Lochley shot him a look that he hadn't seen before. It wasn't a heartwarming 
expression.

****************************** 

Somewhere in orbit around Bliteroth (gas giant in the Gohrian solar system):

    Lyta had called Draal immediately after she had entered hyperspace and 
dumped to him the data she had culled from the databases the Ghorian 
astronomers had provided her. She had annotated the data with timelines 
corrected to read in the calendar system adopted by the IA as its official 
dating system. Draal promised not to inform Delenn who was providing the data.

   "What you have showed me, Lyta, proves that the Slorians we are observing 
are not a natural development. I will pass the data to Delenn without comment. 
It will be up to them to draw their own conclusions. Although, I don't see but 
one conclusion."

   "Thanks Draal. Now, I have iron asteroids to collect and more bombs to make. 
If it turns out that I don't have to use them, I can just leave them where I 
put them. No one will ever be able to detonate them; so, it'll be just one more 
mystery left over from the First Ones."

   The communications system went silent as Draal broke the connection. Lyta 
spent the next five days collecting iron from asteroids and building her bombs.

******************************

In Bob Bryson's office on Mars:

   Bryson looked up to see who had knocked on his office door. "Hiro. What 
brings you down into the belly of the beast?"

   "Michael has gone off again on one of his missions for President Sheridan. 
I've been left minding the store again," said Hiro Kyrtia, the Chief Executive 
Officer (CEO) of Edgars' Industries. "Mike has been negotiating with President 
Paul Waters about supplying secure data systems for his elections office. 
Campaigning has already started. Gor Hinkle is opposing him for the party 
nomination to begin with, the New Mars Front has several of theirs trying to 
backstab their way into their party's nomination. You may not be aware of it, 
but information leaks almost sank the president in the last election. Someone 
hacked into his office LAN and raided his databases. You remember the results. 
He and Mike don't want a repeat of that production."

   "I'm special projects. What does it have to do with me?"

   "Mike isn't doing this as a favor. It will be done using a standard material 
and manpower contract. Apparently, Mike has been really impressed by what is 
being done internally here and has convinced the president that we have the 
manpower and know-how to get the job done right. Besides, they never identified 
the leak in Waters' campaign office last time."

   "I don't do secure data systems."

   "No, but you are the 'dirty tricks' man of the house. Mike wants you to work 
with Beverly Wiseman in formulating a strategy for this job. She will be 
responsible for the estimates, design, installation, equipment procurement and 
whatever else is necessary to do this job. You are liaison between her, her 
people and the president's people. Mike wants someone around to make sure 
Beverly doesn't behead any of the male workers in the president's crew. I 
understand a few of them still think like Neanderthals. You know the breed, 
intelligent, hardworking, trustworthy and slaves to their dicks, whenever any 
female is nearby. I think he was thinking of your altercation with her when he 
made that decision."

   "Hiro, I've never treated any woman like a piece of meat. Beverly didn't 
trash me because I did anything of a sexual nature."

   "I know, but with that in mind, try and imagine some idiot doing just that. 
I don't think fireworks quite covers it."

   "Okay. When do we start?"

   Hiro handed him an official company document. "They made an appointment for 
you to meet the president's Chief of Staff and his communications director at 
the CoS' office at 1800 this evening. Oh, and one more thing. Everything you 
and Ms. Wiseman do after hours in support of this contract is on the clock. 
Mike insisted that you and she be paid accordingly."

   "She and I are salaried employees. We don't rate overtime."

   "It isn't overtime, Bob. It's straight time, based on the total cost for you 
and her. Look over the paperwork. You'll see what I mean."

   Bob skimmed the paperwork and whistled. "This is for real?"

   "It's for real. Mike thinks both of you are worth every credit. Just don't 
tell her about this part of the contract. Let her do her estimates in the dark. 
Yours and her contract salaries are separate items that will be added to her 
initial estimate."

   "Finally, somebody likes me."

   "Don't be so happy, Bob. You haven't dealt with these political types yet. 
It isn't like it was when we were in the resistance. These people will stab you 
in the back for sport."

   "Believe it or not, I am going to enjoy this."

******************************    

At the Gohrian spaceport:
 
   Lyta's Shuttle landed at the spaceport without incident. As soon as she 
landed, several medium size vans approached her shuttle. She lowered the 
stairway and went to meet the people in the vans. She was expecting them since 
her call to Professor Stath had revealed that two biologists and two 
anthropologists were very interested in accepting her offer of a trip to Slor.

   Introductions were barely finished when Lyta led the workmen accompanying 
the biologists into the shuttle's interior. She showed them where the 
biologists equipment could be anchored to the shuttle's deck. The work leader 
estimated that it would take at least three days to reconfigure the shuttle to 
accept the test equipment racks the biologists were taking with them, and get 
them powered up and checked out. Lyta reminded them to refrain from entering 
the pilots compartment and went back outside to confer with her guests.

   "Which one of you is the acting spokesman for your party?"

   "That would be me," said the older of the two biologists, a woman named 
Hetir Dorr.

   "Do all of you understand that you must do exactly what I say concerning 
being outside my shuttle once we reach the planet's surface?"

   "Professor Stath told us about your exchange with Professor Meltin Flou. I'm 
not surprised. He would complain if you hung him with a new rope," said Notx 
Buln, the younger anthropologist. 

   The foreman of the installation crew caught Lyta�s attention. He explained 
that they had forgotten to bring welding equipment with them. She told them to 
position the equipment where they wanted it secured, and she would get it 
fastened to the shuttle deck. Then she turned her attention back to her guests. 

   "Have you decided on a plan of attack and what you hope to learn on this 
trip?"

   "It's hard to anticipate what might be the best way to exploit the 
opportunity you're giving us. We have decided that blood and tissue samples 
from the advanced Slorians and their less developed brethren should be our 
first effort. After that, we want to collect and categorize as many species as 
possible. We just met as a team two days ago, and are still proposing ideas. By 
the time we get to Slor, I'm sure we'll have a decent plan to work from," said 
the oldest biologist, Kirk Dofone.

   "I assume you're staying at local hotels."

   "We all have rooms at The Grand Gohrian, just down the highway from the 
spaceport."

   Two hours after she landed, Lyta was inspecting the placement of equipment 
in her shuttle. She asked the workmen to step outside. Ten minutes later she 
recalled them and instructed them to connect up the necessary power and to 
start testing the equipment. The workmen examined the bases of the equipment 
racks and supports. What they saw was metal connected to metal that looked as 
if it had been made as a single piece. There were no marks to show any welding 
or grinding had been done. Lyta declined to explain her methods to them.

******************************

At IA headquarters on Minbar:

   The data that Draal transmitted to Delenn was turned over to Tessa Halloran 
for analysis by her intelligence specialists. It was two days before they 
notified Delenn of their results. She scheduled a meeting of President 
Sheridan's closest advisors.

   The presentation by Tessa's people took almost two hours, including their 
conclusions. Sheridan wasn't surprised at the information. He, Delenn and most 
of their advisors had experienced the Vorlon-Shadow War first hand, and had 
seen enough of the results of their meddling in the development of younger 
races not to be surprised by anything that had their fingerprints on it. 
Sheridan's only irritation resulted from not knowing the actual source of the 
data, but he knew Draal must have a damned good reason for denying them that 
knowledge.

   Looking slowly around the room, Sheridan asked, "What is your conclusion 
about how this affects our quarantine efforts concerning the planet, Tessa?"

   "Originally, we thought all we had to do was contain them for a few years 
until they saw the error of their ways. Now it looks like nothing we can do 
will change them. We can't quarantine the planet for the next million years or 
so, even if we wanted to. I'm not sure there is anything we can do, and stay 
within the limits of the IA constitution and various treaties that are in force 
concerning that solar system. You can bet that any number of races are going to 
want to 'develop' the planet if we remove the blockade."

   "That underground testing and manufacturing site is buried so deeply that 
nothing short of mass drivers have any chance of destroying it, and it might 
even be beyond the reach of present day mass drivers, Mister President," 
offered Tessa's chief analyst.  

   "We can't send in ground troops, Mister President. It's against the 
charter," commented Tessa. "Besides, it would most likely be a slaughter on 
both sides."

   "We have to come up with an acceptable plan to deal with this, and we don't 
have forever to do it," commented Sheridan.

   "We may not have to come up with a plan, John," said Delenn. "Draal provided 
this data to us, but won't reveal his sources. I believe there is something he 
isn't telling us. It was only two weeks ago that we received those enhanced 
scans from Whitestar 89. We still don't know what is going on there. I suggest 
we watch and wait for a few months, and just continue to gather data. We can 
revisit this six months from now. In the interim things may change."

   "Unless someone has a better idea, I concur with your wife, Mister 
President," said Tessa.

   Sheridan adjourned the meeting and asked Tessa and Delenn to remain. After 
the others left, he asked, "What's on your mind, Delenn?"

   "Whitestar 89's enhanced scanning abilities began a couple of weeks ago 
without any explanation. Whitestar computers, scanners and weapons are based 
partly on Vorlon technology. Who's to say that we were given all the 
instruction manuals delineating the true capabilities of those systems?" asked 
Delenn.

   "You think we were purposefully left in the dark about their true 
capabilities?"

   "Yes I do, John."

   "Where are you taking this, Delenn?"

   "Maybe it takes a Vorlon to fully exploit the whitestar's capabilities," 
offered Tessa.

   Both John and Delenn looked at Tessa. "There aren't any Vorlons left in the 
galaxy, Tessa," said John.

   "That's not entirely true, John," commented Delenn.

   Her husband studied her face for a full minute. It finally dawned on him 
what or whom she was thinking about. "You can't be serious, Delenn."

   "Why not? It would explain everything; Draal's reluctance to reveal his 
sources, the increased scanning capability of the whitestar, and the way the 
data was annotated with our present dating system imposed over the Gohrian one."

   "That's pretty damn thin, Delenn."

   "Lyta was built as an ultimate weapon, to use Mister Garibaldi's term. Who's 
to say what she is capable of doing," said Delenn, thinking of what she knew 
about Lyta's abilities.

   "We'll wait a few months and reexamine this situation. Meanwhile, Tessa, see 
if your people can get a handle on Lyta, and where and what she is doing. I 
don't need to tell you to be careful, but I will anyway. Remember, she's very 
dangerous, and she doesn't like people sticking their noses into her business. 
Delenn, tell Whitestar 89 to redouble their monitoring efforts, just in case 
Lyta is involved in this."

   "Mister President, my sources have given me two pieces of data that make me 
wonder about trying to get information on Lyta Alexander. You read the 
intelligence synopsis that included information about the destruction of an 
apparently 'deserted' military base on the North American continent on Earth. 
My sources have added two pieces of information about that incident. First, 
Lyta and a policewoman are verified as having been on the base when it was 
destroyed. Second, the policewoman is back at her job in San Francisco, and 
Lyta has vanished. You can draw your own conclusions, sir," said Tessa.

   "You know what this means, John?" asked Delenn.

   "Lyta is alive and probably well," groused John Sheridan.

   "One other thing, Mister President. Lyta had a military surplus shuttle 
modified by a company on Mars. It was picked up only hours after the 
destruction of the military base, and it was a young man in his mid-thirties 
who picked it up."

   "That would have been Lyta. She can make you see her as anything she cares 
to," spat out Sheridan. "Like I already said, Tessa, make damned sure your 
people understand the danger of snooping around after Lyta. This greatly 
increases the odds, Delenn, that Lyta is involved in this Slorian thing."

   "John, just what can we do about it if she is?" asked Delenn.

   "I don't know. I'd just like to know why she is interested in a backwater 
planet. Can it be as simple as the Slorians being a left over Shadow 
experiment?"

   "I don't know, John. She has her own morality code. As her abilities 
increase, she may be losing her touch with her Human side. I don't believe she 
is about to tell us anytime soon," replied Delenn.

******************************

1800 Hours in a meeting room on Mars:

   The meeting room was just that, a space six by eight meters with four walls, 
two doors,  the requisite table, a dozen chairs distributed around the table, a 
dry marking board and a retractable projection screen and projector. Beverly 
Wiseman and Robert Bryson waited for the president's representatives. Beverly 
and Bob had arrived almost ten minutes early and it was already five minutes 
after 1800 hours. There was no sign of the people they were here to meet.

   "I'll give them another five minutes, Beverly, and if they aren't here, or 
we don't get a call explaining their tardiness, we'll call it a night and a 
bust," said Bryson.

   Two minutes later, a man and a woman entered the room. "I'm sorry we're 
late," said the man smoothly. "Helen and I were in a meeting that ran a bit 
long."

   The look on his female companion's face told Bryson and Wiseman that the man 
was lying. However, they said nothing. The man offered his hand to Bryson, 
saying, "I'm Bob Withers. I'm President Waters' honcho for this campaign."

   Bryson ignored the offered hand. "I'm Robert Bryson, and this lady is 
Beverly Wiseman. I'm to be liaison for the contract, and Beverly is responsible 
for the technical end of things. If you're ready, Beverly has a short 
presentation that will explain the different levels of security that we can 
provide for your data systems."

   "Mister Bryson, Ms. Wiseman, I'm Helen Acker. I'm President Waters' 
communications officer for the campaign. I'll be the major point of contact 
(POC) for you during the duration of the contract, after it is in place."

   The two campaign officers took seats and Beverly proceeded to give her 
presentation. It took slightly less than thirty minutes and both Withers and 
Acker had numerous questions. Bryson was impressed with the way Beverly fielded 
the questions. It was very apparent that she had done quite a bit of 
preparation and that she knew her business. He was also impressed with Helen 
Acker. Her questions were intelligent and insightful. Withers on the other hand 
appeared to be a political hack. Bryson couldn't help but wonder why the man 
held the position he did, but chalked it up to his own inexperience with the 
political arena and its players.

   After the questions had been asked and answered, Beverly asked one of her 
own. "Considering what you have just learned, are you prepared at this time to 
select a system. Remember, I can combine various levels of security depending 
on what you want and are willing to spend."

   "We need to go over this with the president, Ms. Wiseman," said Acker. "I 
know what I want, but he has the final say."

   "Then, if there are no further questions, we'll be on our way," said Bryson.

   Withers asked, "Ms. Wiseman, could you remain for a few minutes. There are a 
few things I'd like to discuss with you."

   Wiseman didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second before responding, "No. 
If you have anything to discuss with me concerning this contract, Mister Bryson 
will have to be present. If what you want to discuss doesn't have anything to 
do with this contract, then the answer is positively no."

   "I don't even know you, Ms. Wiseman. There is no need to be so hostile," 
responded Withers.

   "You don't know me, Mister Withers, but I know all I need to know about you. 
You have a reputation as a ladies man. You also have a reputation for not 
taking no for an answer. I strongly suggest that you take mine. If you persist, 
you won't like the results."

   Acker smiled. The woman had the bastard pegged, but good. She had made her 
feelings known to reputable witnesses. Withers could get his ass burned badly, 
if he didn't leave this woman alone.

   "As you wish," answered Withers contemptuously.

   "Mister Withers, could you and I have a word alone, please?" asked Bryson.

   The women took that as their cue to leave the room and close the door behind 
them.

   "The son of a bitch has the personality of a garden slug," noted Wiseman.

   "There's no reason to insult garden slugs, Ms. Wiseman," replied Acker. "I 
keep wondering how long it's going to be before President Waters ditches his 
fat ass."

   "Has he hit on you?"

   "He tried. I reminded him about what my job entails, and that I'd quit in a 
heartbeat and drag his sorry ass into court on a sexual harassment charge. That 
cooled his ardor. What do you think your man Bryson wanted to talk to him 
about?"

   "Bob is our company's Director of Special Projects. He's also a left over 
from the resistance days. I understand there is more than a little blood on his 
hands from those days."

   Back in the meeting room, Bryson sat on one corner of the table and looked 
at Withers.

   "What's on your mind, Bryson?"

   "Mister Withers, I think you and I need to understand one another. Ms. 
Wiseman is one of our most valued employees. She is also a very nice lady. I 
think you should stay away from her... as far away as possible."

   "What's your connection with her, and why is it any of your business?"

   "It isn't really any of my business, and we are simply coworkers. I'm the 
Director of Special Projects for our company."

   "So what?"

   "Don't make yourself into one of my special projects."

   "What's that supposed to mean?"

   Bryson stared through the man and smiled a very cold smile at him. Then he 
moved to the door. Withers looked at Bryson's back and realized he had just had 
his life threatened. He made a mental note to learn more about Mister Robert 
Bryson. The knowledge he would gain by his efforts would make him drop all 
ideas he had about making it with one Beverly Wiseman.

   Outside, in the hallway, Acker was telling Beverly that there was some 
additional security she wanted in addition to the data security. Beverly 
suggested that Acker drop by her office the following day for private 
discussions.

******************************

   Bryson escorted Beverly to her home for safety purposes, but, citing lack of 
time before his return train departed, declined her invitation to come in for 
coffee and to meet her sister and children.

   On his return walk to the train station, Bryson reflected on the fact that 
Wiseman had linked her arm with his when they were walking. He considered her 
adamant statement that she didn't need a man or the problems they brought with 
them, and concluded that she saw him in the vein of a much older brother or 
even worse, a father figure. 

******************************

   On an unnamed planet, in an uncharted solar system, very far out on an 
unnamed arm of the spiral galaxy, known to the locals as the Milky Way, a man 
in a hooded robe sat at a bench full of advanced monitoring equipment. 
Intermittently, for several years, he had been doing unauthorized monitoring of 
a young redheaded woman who seemed to have some peculiar talents. His 
concentration was broken by the voice of one of his older associates.

   "Ahan, you are at it again? Why?" asked his colleague Waren Hand.

   "When the Shadows and the Vorlons departed the galaxy, they left some 
interesting things behind. She was left behind by the Vorlons. She has done 
some interesting things since then."

   "Your monitoring of her is not authorized. If you should be discovered...."

   Turning to look at his senior technomage, Ahan said, "She is going to 
virtually destroy a species of sentient beings on a planet called Slor."

   "And that affects us how, exactly?"

   "You mean that we are just going to let her do that?"

   "Do you know how she plans to accomplish this task? I mean, after all she is 
just one young woman."

   "Watch the large monitor, Waren."

   On the wall of the room, a very large 3-D display appeared out of nowhere. 
Ahan ran a playback of several warships being destroyed, a video of the Drakh 
attack on Babylon 5, a very large explosion on the North American continent of 
planet Earth and the tests Lyta had conducted with her 'mountain reducers'. He 
included scenes of her 'workers' placing her toys.

   "I assume you're going to explain how all of this is supposed to be our 
business?"

   "You saw all the bombs she made. I showed you that she is having them 
positioned to destroy at least ninety percent of the planet's population and 
its entire infrastructure, right down to the village level."

   "It still isn't our business, Ahan. If what you have showed me is real, and 
I assume it is, we couldn't stop her anyway. If she becomes aware that she is 
being watched, and by whom, we could be placed in very grave danger."

   "How?"

   "You've been monitoring her. What kind of technology is she using?"

   "I don't know. I haven't observed any."

   "That's my point, Ahan. She does what she does without technology. You 
monitored what happened in the explosion on Earth. Observations indicate she 
moved herself and a normal human several hundred kilometers in a fraction of a 
second and didn't use any technology. Do you really want her to become 
interested in your monitoring of her?"

   "How do you know she isn't already aware of it? She may simply be ignoring 
it."

   Waren gritted his teeth. How could a successful technomage be so blind to 
the reality around him. "Ahan, I have some files we managed to obtain 
concerning this woman. These files are not for general distribution, but it is 
apparently essential that you read them."

   Somehow, the technomages had obtained copies of the files Lyta had read from 
the databanks of the great machine. Waren let Ahan read them. Afterward, Ahan's 
color drained. "The tech we use is a modification of the Shadow technology that 
the founders of our order obtained in the distant past. Can you imagine what 
someone with her abilities and programming might do to us, if she becomes aware 
that we are watching her?" asked Waren.

   "Maybe you should explain things rather than just issuing orders from on 
high saying, 'Don't do that'."

   Waren didn't like it, but Ahan had a valid point. The present council still 
operated much as it had for the last thousand years. In recent memory, the 
fallacy of that mode of operation had almost resulted in the annihilation of 
their order. Then again, maybe it was a mistake to not at least keep a loose 
monitor effort in effect for the Alexander woman. After all, Galen was 
conducting some kind of an operation concerning the Drakh that been left behind 
by the Shadows.

*************************

   It was the afternoon of the day Lyta had returned to Gohr. The equipment the 
scientists were taking to Slor had been physically installed and powered up. 
The scientists and technicians were in the process of testing and calibrating 
it. 

   Lyta was sitting across the table from the president of Gohr. "I'm sorry you 
were drawn into this, Mister President. My intent is to allow these scientists 
gather as much data as they can in the time available."

   "What constitutes time available, Ms. Alexander."

   "The Slorians have conducted a number of tests on their latest weapons. It 
can't be very long before they do a live test, either on the blockade platforms 
or on Whitestar 89 itself. I won't allow that. I'll kill every sentient being 
on the planet, before I'll allow them to kill IA citizens."

   "I and my advisors are at a loss to understand just how you would manage 
that. Would you care to explain how it can be accomplished?"

   Lyta wrinkled her nose a few times. "Mister President; at the attack on 
Babylon 5 a few months ago, I destroyed the crews of a number of Drakh combat 
vessels. I never left my quarters on Babylon 5 during the entire time of the 
attack. Some of the ships whose crews I destroyed were more than ten thousand 
kilometers from the station. I can show you how I can inflict extreme pain at a 
distance without weapons. A true demonstration would require that I kill the 
person used for the test. I won't do that."

   The president considered what Lyta said for about a minute. "Then how can 
you deliberately kill ninety percent of the population of Slor?"

   "Apples and oranges, Mister President. The Slorians are the result of 
massive manipulation of a species and shouldn't even exist at this time. In my 
opinion, they represent an untenable danger to other sentient species in the 
galaxy. All things considered, it might be more merciful if I just exterminated 
the entire species. However, I don't particularly like that idea at all. I 
think that a smaller population reduced to stone age existence might be altered 
a second time into a species that will fit in with the other space faring 
races. The scenario I have in mind would be right up your alley, so to speak. 
With some help from the IA your people could be given the job of using DNA 
manipulation to correct for what the Shadow agents did to the Slorians. It 
would be a project that will take generations, but the information to be gained 
would be invaluable to both your planet and the other members of the IA." 

   "Ms. Alexander, I had our military inform the IA whitestar orbiting Slor 
that we had learned that an unidentified ship would be trying to land on the 
planet sometime within the next three or four days. If I hadn't, we would be in 
violation of our treaty with the IA," said the president.

   Lyta smiled and replied, "It's not a problem, Mister President. They didn't 
detect my ship when I was there earlier; they won't detect it this time either. 
One other thing, Mr. President; would you like me to bring back a couple of the 
Slorians both the original and modified versions for your people to study?"

   "Let me get back to you on that before you leave, Ms. Alexander?"

******************************

On Mars:

   Beverly Wiseman was sitting in her office going over the minutes of the last 
department head meeting she had been required to attend. It irritated her no 
end that she was the only branch or division head who was required to attend. 
She was in the unenviable position of being both since she was replacing Marty 
Golf, former Assistant Security Manager for Edgars' Industries and overseeing 
the new branch designated Data Security. A knock on her door got her attention.

   Beverly looked up to see who had knocked on her door. "Come in Ms. Acker. 
What can I do for you?"

   Helen Acker replied, "I want to discuss some security arrangements with you 
that are in addition to what we discussed at our meeting yesterday evening."

   "I'm all ears, Ms. Acker."

   "Can your people install cameras to monitor the offices and work areas of 
our campaign headquarters."

   "Do you want them monitored? We can install cameras and a monitoring 
station, but it's not going to be cheap. We use only our own personnel who have 
undergone extensive background checks. We don't hire temps or any other cheap 
labor. It's the only way we can assure the quality of the product we deliver. 
If you can get me a floor plan of your campaign headquarters and show me where 
you want the cameras, I can include it in my estimate."

   Helen Acker opened her purse and withdrew a data crystal. "I have the 
building plans on this crystal and I have the floor plans for our offices on 
another data crystal. If you have the time, we can go over what I want right 
now."

   "Let's go into one of our conference rooms. They are equipped with 
projectors that can handle data crystals. I just need to get Bob Bryson,  a 
couple of my engineers and technicians to sit in on our meeting. They can offer 
suggestions for the most bang for your credits, and Bob can monitor the whole 
thing."

   Twenty minutes later, Wiseman had the necessary people gathered in a 
conference room. Using two projectors, Helen Acker had the displays of the 
building plans and the floor plan they were going to use for the campaign 
headquarters projected on adjacent display screens. It took Acker twenty 
minutes, using the building and floor plans for references, to outline what she 
wanted for video monitoring. Another hour was used to answer questions and 
discuss options and variations of installations to get an accurate picture of 
the entire effort. When Acker was satisfied with what was agreed upon, she 
departed.

   Acker had liked the idea of using leased Minbari minicomputers for the LAN 
servers. That and the use of desktop and portable computers running proprietary 
software and operating systems would make it very hard for someone external to 
the office LAN to gain access to any of the campaign files. What Acker didn't 
know was that, in addition to the security monitor room in the campaign 
headquarters, Wiseman and her engineers and techs would be using a monitoring 
site set up in the basement of Edgars' Industries main office building to 
maintain control of security of the LAN. Whoever tried to break in would be in 
for a very rude surprise. 

   Acker had wanted every workstation to be capable of video conferencing. 
Using special software, the video conferencing video pick-ups would double as 
video security monitors, even when the workstation was powered down.

******************************  

   Professor Meltin Flou had indeed managed to contact some of his very 
influential friends in the president's administration, but when he told them 
whom he wanted them to stop, they all politely told him that to interfere with 
her would be an efficient way to end a promising political career. She had been 
notified by the president that the Gohrian anthropologists would indeed like to 
have a selection of Slorians for study; so, Lyta and her guests lifted off in 
her shuttle just before daybreak, three days after she had returned from her 
iron gathering efforts. She kept thinking that this was becoming one bizarre 
trip; one that she would remember for a very long time.

******************************

END PART 15

16

Back to Aubrey's