Voices

Chapter 10

Talia Winters awoke in her own quarters, lying in her own bed. She was even wearing the thick flannel nightgown that she liked to wear when she was feeling cold or ill. With tremendous relief, she realized that the horrible explosion had been a dream. Conference room nine wasn’t really in flames, and people weren’t dying.

It had been a weird dream, she thought, having Kosh in it, hooded aliens, and a bunch of people she didn’t know. But how much was dream, and how much wasn’t? Was Babylon 5 crawling with telepaths, or was she the only one? What time was it? Where was she supposed to be? As Talia began looking around her tidy quarters, she began to get a sinking feeling, as if she were slipping back into her nightmare.

For one thing, hanging on the closet door was the dress she had worn to the reception the night before. And if that had been real, maybe the budget meeting on Green-12 was real. And if that had really happened … well, it couldn’t have, it was too terrible to contemplate! It was just the sort of thing that her fevered imagination would concoct before a stressful day. She was probably late to her own panels.

Talia started to get out of bed; but something else caught her eye, and she gasped!

Standing perfectly still by the door was Commander Ivanova.

“I can’t believe it,” whispered Ivanova. “I was just about to leave.” She lifted her link to her mouth.

“Wait!” demanded Talia. She sat up in bed and wiped errant strands of blond hair off her face. “What’s happening? Why are you in my room?”

Ivanova took several strides across the small room and sat on the bed beside her to whisper, “Keep your voice down. You’ve got two Psi Cops outside your door, and I think they would as soon kill you as look at you. But there are two of Garibaldi’s people to keep an eye on them. Of course, all four of them are out there to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

Talia rubbed her eyes and tried to figure out what was happening. She decided to repeat the question until she got an answer. “Ivanova,” she said through gritted teeth, “why are you in my room?”

Ivanova cocked her head. “I volunteered to watch you. I had to see the woman who reportedly killed four Psi Cops and a military liaison.”

Now Talia buried her face in her hands and cried. She tried desperately to wake up again, to leave this nightmare for anything, anywhere else! But she couldn’t conjure up any other visions or memories that would drag her away from this tawdry scene. She was stuck here, and she couldn’t change it.

The commander activated her link. “Ivanova to medlab. Ms. Winters is awake now.”

“Thank you,” said Dr. Franklin. “I’ll be right there.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” insisted Talia.

“Careful what you say,” warned the officer. “You might want to talk to a counsel before you talk to me. I’ll have to report anything you say to Garibaldi.”

“But I didn’t kill anyone!” Talia wailed.

There was immediate pounding on the door, followed by a booming voice, demanding, “We want to see the prisoner!”

Ivanova shook her head glumly. “You’re in a load of trouble, Talia.”

The telepath slammed her fist into the bed and muttered, “I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t.” She looked up bleary-eyed. “The people who died … was Malten one of them?”

Ivanova shook her head. “Malten came through scot-free. Bombs are weird like that. Everybody who was sitting to the right of Mr. Bester got it. You would’ve gotten it, too, if you hadn’t left the room.”

“That’s crazy!” moaned Talia. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room!”

There was more irate pounding on the door, but Ivanova ignored it. “Actually, the evidence is clear that you did take the bomb into the room. It was hidden in that slim handbag of yours.”

“No!” screamed Talia.

The door banged open, and it was Dr. Franklin fighting his way past two black-suited Psi Cops. “Stay back!” he ordered them. “She’s under my care!”

But one of the black-suited cops burst into the room with the doctor before the door shut. He was a muscular lad, still young, with pimples on his face and a scowl of hatred. “Why did you kill them? Why?”

“Get out of here at once!” snapped the doctor.

The Psi Cop pointed a black-clad finger at Talia. “We’ll do a deep scan on you. We’ll find out why. You know what we do to rogues!”

“Now!” ordered Franklin, balling his hands into a fist.

The young Psi Cop banged the panel to open the door then he stepped out into a din of angry voices. Talia held her hands over her ears and tried to shut them out, but the voices wouldn’t go away until the door finally shut.

Dr. Franklin knelt in front of the frightened woman and looked into her eyes with a small beam of light. She twisted away, still disoriented and hysterical. Finally Talia took a deep breath and told herself that she had to stay calm and face this. She gripped the sleeve of the doctor’s smock, holding it steady so that he could complete his examination.

“I didn’t set off a bomb,” she told the doctor.

“Guess what?” he replied. “It’s not my job to figure what you did or didn’t do. It’s my job to get you well. You were in shock after the bombing, so we sedated you. But physically you appear to be fine. Tell me immediately if you feel any pains anywhere. Otherwise, just get lots of rest. Or as much as they let you.”

Franklin stood up and shrugged helplessly. “Medlab is sort of crazy at the moment, so I had them bring you here. You could go to medlab if you wanted, but you might be more comfortable staying here.”

Talia wrung her hands and looked from Ivanova to the doctor. “Am I under arrest?”

Franklin looked back at the door and frowned. “I wouldn’t expect to be going anywhere real soon.”

He turned back to Talia and said sympathetically, “You rest, get something to eat, and we’ll give you a thorough exam later. I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t disturbed too much. I might be able to keep the newspeople out, but I don’t know about the rest of them.”

Franklin grabbed his bag. “I’ve got to get back to my prize patient.”

“Who is that?” asked Talia.

“Mr. Bester. It’s definite—he will live. Whether any of us in medlab will, with him as a patient, I don’t know.”

Franklin started to the door and turned. “Good luck to you, Ms. Winters. It’s been hell for all of us, but that will be over in a few days. Your hell is just starting, I’m afraid.”

The angry voices rose a pitch as he opened the door and ducked out, and Talia fought back the temptation to answer them all with a primal scream.

“Wrong,” she muttered. “They’re wrong.”

Ivanova sat on the bed beside her and shook her head in amazement. “I don’t know you all that well, Talia, but I never figured you to be a Martian terrorist.”

Talia half-laughed and half-cried at the absurdity of it. “Is that what they’re saying? I’ve never even liked Mars—a dusty old place with rabbit warrens for cities. All blue-collar, no decent restaurants.”

The telepath suddenly grew very somber. “Listen, I need to talk to the captain or Garibaldi and tell them I’m innocent. I need to clear this up.”

“You need to talk to legal counsel,” said Ivanova somberly. “You need someone to argue for you, and advise you. You’re looking at charges of mass murder, terrorism, and treason. On top of that, the Psi Cops might decide you’re a rogue. If they get custody of you …” She shuddered and couldn’t finish her thought.

Talia started to reach for Ivanova’s hands, but she stopped when she realized that neither one of them were wearing gloves. “Help me,” she begged. “You be my counsel. Command officers can, in an emergency.”

Ivanova leaped to her feet. “I don’t think I can. I wish you well, but I don’t think I can spend weeks on end talking to them. Besides, with charges this serious, defending you could become a career.”

“Please,” begged Talia. “Just until we see what’s going to happen.”

“Why me?” asked Ivanova.

“I need somebody who won’t be afraid of them.”

A firm knock sounded on the door, and the women looked up with a start. “It’s Captain Sheridan,” called a familiar voice. “And Mr. Garibaldi.”

Talia rubbed her eyes and pointed to her closet. “I’ve got a robe in there. And my gloves.”

Before she fetched the robe and the gloves, Ivanova hung up Talia’s evening gown from the night before. It seemed like another lifetime ago, thought the telepath, just those few hours. It was amazing how quickly your life could turn to junk.

Ivanova gave Talia her things with a brave smile. “Just stick to the truth.”

“That’s all I’ve got,” answered Talia, pulling on her gloves. She stood up and pulled off the nightgown, momentarily nude. Ivanova didn’t turn away. Talia slipped on the robe, and knotted it. Then she looked at Ivanova and waited for her to open the door.

Captain Sheridan and Mr. Garibaldi entered, both looking as if they had gone through their own set of traumas. Talia could see and hear the commotion outside the door, and a man in a black uniform was shaking his fist.

Garibaldi growled at them, “You’ll get your chance!”

“Garibaldi!” snapped Sheridan.

Mercifully, the door closed, ending the angry shouts, for the moment. Sheridan and Garibaldi took deep breaths to try to calm themselves, but their anxiety was more unnerving to Talia than the ridiculous charges against her.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, for no particular reason. It was doubtful they had come to rescue her, she told herself.

Sheridan tried to keep his voice even. “Ms. Winters, do you understand what’s happened?”

“I didn’t do it,” she claimed. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room.”

“Well, then,” said Garibaldi, “somebody slipped the bomb into your portfolio. My own forensic people will swear to that. We’ve got the residue of your handbag all over everything.”

“Plus,” said Sheridan, “you ran out just before the bomb detonated.”

Ivanova stepped between them. “Excuse me, Captain, is this an interrogation, or a trial? You have to let her tell her side of it.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” shouted Talia. “I was as surprised as anyone when that bomb went off!”

“Why did you get up and leave the room?” asked Sheridan.

“I didn’t feel well.” Talia frowned, knowing how lame that answer sounded. “It’s the truth.”

“What did you have in your bag?” asked Garibaldi.

Talia shook her head in desperation. “Just some notes and cards, a conference program, a data crystal—nothing unusual!”

“A bomb is highly unusual,” said the captain.

“I didn’t know it was there!”

Garibaldi held out his hands, trying to calm everyone and think at the same time. “There are a lot of things wrong with this,” he declared. “First of all, it was a very small, very sophisticated incendiary device. We think it was of alien design, because we don’t have anything that small that would do that kind of damage, and leave so little trace.”

“Secondly,” he continued, “just moments after the bombing, that Free Phobos group on Mars was claiming credit for it!” We hadn’t released a single word about it, yet some jokers on Mars acted like they had won the World Series. That’s the same group who claimed the hotel bombing last week. They must have known about it, but how?”

“I’m not a terrorist,” Talia insisted. “I don’t even have any connection with Mars!”

Sheridan held up a finger. “Ms. Winters, that’s not entirely true. While he was conscious, Mr. Bester gave us the rundown on Ted Hamilton, your uncle.”

“No!” The telepath balled her hands into fists and slumped onto her bed. It didn’t matter what she said—fate or some terrible power had beaten her to every signpost, turning every one of them to make her look guilty.

“Please,” said Ivanova, “there’s got to be some doubt in your minds! Had she died in the blast, you would have figured she was innocent. But since she had the misfortune to live, you think she’s guilty?”

The first officer continued, very calmly, “Most of us have worked with Ms. Winters for over a year now—has she ever given any indication that she hated Psi Corps enough to blow up a roomful of them? Now, if it had been Garibaldi or me …”

Sheridan cast her a stern glare. “Please, Commander, the well-known animosity of my staff toward Psi Corps isn’t helping matters.”

“But she’s right, Captain,” said Garibaldi. “If Ms. Winters had an uncle who was in the Mars resistance, you never would’ve known it from her. I never heard her talk about Mars.” He smiled at Talia. “Except once, when I asked her to do a favor for me.”

Sheridan scowled. “She wouldn’t necessarily broadcast the fact that she had an uncle who was a terrorist.”

“Okay,” said Garibaldi, “there’s one more thing that’s really strange. We’ve been over the conference room a hundred times, and we haven’t found any remains of a timer or trigger device. So there must’ve been a filament or some kind of microscopic fuse inside the charge, and they must’ve triggered it remotely. But Ms. Winters had only gotten about five meters beyond the room when it blew, and she didn’t have any devices on her. In other words, if she pushed the button, where’s the button?”

“I didn’t push any button!” moaned Talia.

Sheridan shrugged. “If I were the prosecutor on this, I could answer every one of these questions. The fact that this Martian organization already knew about the bombing shows that she had accomplices. So, she planted the bomb, and somebody else detonated it. Or she detonated it, and her accomplice took the device out of her hand while she was lying in the corridor.”

“I didn’t do it,” said Talia firmly. But nobody was listening to her. It was terrible the way they were talking about her as if she weren’t there. As if she were already dead!

Of course, five people were dead, she reminded herself. Five fellow telepaths. She should be out in the corridor, demanding for heads to roll, instead of sitting helplessly on her bed, waiting for her own head to roll. Not only was she in danger of being falsely accused and convicted, but the guilty party was getting away!

She jumped to her feet. “You’ve got to stop them!”

“Who?” asked Sheridan.

“Whoever killed those telepaths!”

“Okay, Ms. Winters,” said Sheridan calmly. “I’m getting the distinct impression that you plan to plead not guilty. Which is fine with me.”

Talia lifted her chin and asked, “Are you going to arrest me?”

“We have to,” answered the captain. “Everybody is fighting over jurisdiction of this case. If we don’t arrest you and have the ombuds try you here, then Bester, Earthforce, or somebody will take you away. If you think you’ll stand a better chance with them …”

“No!” snapped Ivanova. “If Psi Corps declares her to be a rogue telepath, they can deal with her however they please—without a trial. We can’t let them have her.”

Talia felt weak in the knees, and she sat down again. More than anything, she just wanted to crawl under her bedcovers and go back to sleep. There had to be some way to exit from this nightmare, if only she could think about it. If only she could remember everything. But it was all such a haze. She hadn’t felt right the entire morning, and she had barely said ten words to anybody. Her presence at that meeting had been superfluous, as Bester had claimed it was. No, that wasn’t it—he had called her a subterfuge.

Apparently, she was a better subterfuge than any of them had imagined. This was what she got for being ambitious and wanting to play with the big boys. She got used. Even now it seemed as if nobody—not her colleagues in the Corps or her neighbors on B5—really wanted to help her. They had their physical evidence and to hell with her! Somebody had to hang for this.

Talia had to flee from Babylon 5, she decided that moment, and find out who really did this.

“All right, it’s agreed,” said Garibaldi. “We’ll have to arrest you, Ms. Winters. But we’ll keep looking. I want to find that detonator, I want to know who’s on the station from Mars, and I need to talk to all my people who were doing security on Green-12. Maybe you did have an accomplice, even if you didn’t know about it.”

He looked around her crowded quarters. “Sorry, but we can’t leave you here, under house arrest. Bester’s people are irate about it, plus all they’re doing in the corridor is drawing flies. We’ll have to take you to the brig, where we have better control over the situation. I’ll give you five minutes to get dressed and pack a few things.”

“She’ll need a hearing before the ombuds to keep her in the brig,” said Ivanova.

“I’ll arrange it,” answered Sheridan. “You sound like her counsel.”

Ivanova nodded. “I am. Until I find her somebody better.” Sheridan rolled his eyes toward the heavens. “If you want me to say I was dead wrong about allowing the conference here, I will. I was dead wrong. Dumbest thing I ever did.”

Ivanova glanced at Garibaldi and said, “We know that. I’m still her counsel.”

The captain looked at the blond woman. “Is that all right with you?”

Talia nodded numbly.

“Come on, Ivanova,” said the captain, “and let’s get the paperwork started.”

They opened the door, and Sheridan and Ivanova battled their way into an angry crowd, filled with floating video recorders. Garibaldi stared at them until the door closed, and the muscles around his neck tightened.

“Oh, brother,” he moaned, “now the press has found us. Talia, what is this mess about? What happened?”

She shrugged and wearily shook her head.

“Who did you screw with?” he asked.

“Go away,” she said in a husky voice. “I don’t trust any of you. You know I didn’t do this, but you’re going to put me on trial!”

“That’s to keep you on the station, until we find out who did it!”

She sniffed and untied her robe. “Right, you can tell me that when I’m convicted of five murders. Or tell me that when you turn me over to Bester. Or maybe you think I want to spend the rest of my life as the most famous prisoner in the brig of Babylon 5. You can sell tickets—there she is, the Psi Cop Bomber.”

Garibaldi pointed at her and promised, “I’m going to find out who did this. You can bank on it.”

“Get the hell out of here and let me find my clothes.” The blond woman stood up and started to take off her robe, and Garibaldi hurried out.

“Doctor!” screamed a little man lying in the recovery room of a busy medlab. He started to thrash around in his bed, and then he winced and gasped from the pain.

“Doctor!” he cried through clenched teeth.

Dozing in the corner, Mr. Gray bolted to his feet and was the first one to the man’s side. “Please be calm, Mr. Bester. It’s wonderful to see you looking so … so awake, but you must remember your injuries.” He rearranged some of the tubes and sheets that covered Mr. Bester.

The Psi Cop slumped back onto the bed, grumbling.

“Yes,” said Gray, “your buttocks area was apparently very badly mangled, and the burns on your leg and arm—most unfortunate. Altogether, you were lucky.”

“I don’t feel so lucky,” muttered Bester.

Gray swallowed. “Yes, but look at the alternatives.”

Bester laughed sourly. “They can’t get me so easily. Have they arrested Talia Winters yet?”

“Yes,” answered Gray, “the last I heard, they were taking her to the brig. You know, she never struck me as being the violent type. I would have thought she was on a career track. I wonder if she really …”

“Don’t wonder,” said Bester, followed by a coughing fit. “She brought that bomb into the room, I know it! It was no accident that she ran out when she did. But who put her up to it? I don’t know that.”

“The Free Phobos group is claiming responsibility.”

“I know,” growled Beater, “but who are they?”

Gray looked down apologetically. “The conference has officially disbanded. Transports are taking most of the attendees out tonight.”

“Damn,” muttered Bester. “They’ll get away.”

“Who will get away?”

“Whoever put Ms. Winters up to it!” snapped the Psi Cop. “She couldn’t have managed this by herself. Who is Free Phobos, and why do they want me out of the way?”

Gray cleared his throat. He wasn’t about to say what he was thinking, that the number of people who wanted Bester out of the way was too numerous to investigate.

“You’ve never heard of Free Phobos?” asked the young telepath.

“Not before the first bombing. And not again until this second one. I’ve had plenty of people looking for them, too.”

Bester grimaced in pain and tried to get comfortable in his hospital bed.

“Can I get anything for you, sir?” asked Gray with concern.

Through clenched teeth, Bester grunted, “Yes! Catch the bastards who did this to me! The ones who killed our people. You’re still attached to my office—that’s a direct order.”

“Sir,” said Gray, taken aback, “what about your own Psi Cops?”

Bester smiled with satisfaction. “We have Ms. Winters, or soon will have her. She’s our dirty laundry, and we will wash it ourselves. We’ll find out as much as there is to know from her, but there may be other leads. Follow them, Gray. Get to the bottom of it.”

The young telepath felt a grip on his forearm, and he looked down to see burnt fingers wrapped in bandages, smearing blood on his sleeve.

“Promise me,” rasped Bester.

“I’ll find them,” said Gray, removing his arm.

Garibaldi pulled open the door in slow motion, but the lights and the voices struck her in high-speed, strobelike bursts. Garibaldi grabbed her arm and dragged her out of her quarters, because she couldn’t make herself move. Talia felt like she was staring at an oncoming train, the rush of people was so intense. The lights blinded her, the hands pushed in, while Garibaldi’s security people pushed out. The black-suited ones stood on their tiptoes and shook their fists, shouting:

“Murderer!”

“Traitor!”

“Back!” snapped Garibaldi, like a lion tamer.

She could see a wedge of gray-suited backs forming before her and leading the way down the corridor. Garibaldi wrapped his arms around her like armor and steered her behind the wedge. People stood in doorways and clung like flies to the wall to get a look at her. The same people would have only given her a glance the day before.

The flying wedge swept through a bulkhead and down a ramp, and the crowd of people vanished. She was surprised to see only Garibaldi and his gray-suited security people. As they weren’t needed to spearhead the charge anymore, the officers fell back to rear-guard positions. Soon it was just her and Garibaldi, followed by a man holding a PPG rifle.

Irrationally, she thought for a split second, Can I get that rifle away from him? But where would she go? How would she get off the station? Talia had to think about it—she just had to think.

Her inner voice was telling her to escape. It wasn’t right or wrong, or even logical, but she had to listen. There was only one thing Talia Winters knew for sure—she had to get off Babylon 5 and exit from this nightmare!