Address criticisms to [xazqrten@home.com]
  
******************************

Somewhere in hyperspace:

   Lyta wasn't satisfied with the weapon she had made. She wanted it to be 
small enough that it could be hidden almost anywhere. She toyed with several 
solutions and finally made a decision. She used her telekinetic abilities to 
make some new parts for her smaller weapon. When she finished she had a small 
spherical metal object, twelve centimeters in diameter that felt very cold to 
the touch and massed just over fifty kilograms. She surveyed the result of her 
efforts and was pleased with its aesthetics. Now all she had to do was test it. 
She dropped the shuttle into normal space. She was light-years from anyone or 
anything.

   She dropped the small metal ball into space and piloted the shuttle away. 
When she was ten thousand kilometers away from it, she detonated it. Even from 
that distance the little weapon looked like a small sun going nova. If her 
instruments were correct, it was much more powerful than the one she had 
demonstrated for Draal.

   The shuttle reentered hyperspace and continued on its journey. Inside the 
shuttle, Lyta was working as hard as she could to 'manufacture' as many of the 
small balls as she could before her arrival in the Slorian / Gohrian solar 
system. 

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

In a high security facility somewhere on the North American continent:

    "Good morning, General Sanchez," said Major Brown. "I have news and good 
news."

    "Fill me in, major. We have tickets to San Francisco. Interviewing the 
police officer is a go."

   Major Brown handed him several sheets of real paper. "This is a hardcopy of 
the records detailing how the mix-up in weapon's warhead occurred, general. You 
will notice that apparently it was a clandestine project by former Nightwatch 
officers which had the purpose of smuggling large nukes back onto the planet in 
violation of at least a dozen treaties among various nations of the EA."

   "Interesting reading, Major Brown. I'm sure the President and the JCS will 
be grateful for the results of your efforts. It certainly explains how there 
might have been a much larger weapon installed in the self-destruct mechanism 
at Nevada Facility Number Four than had been specified."

   "I'm relieved that we have an answer to a very difficult question, general. 
Now for the regular news, I have emphasized to my people that Charles Wayne 
must remain in the best of health. I'm worried though that some of the lower 
ranks might take it upon themselves to do something without authorization."

   "You had better make it clear, major, that whoever causes harm to Charles 
Wayne will be signing their own death warrants and those of a large number of 
our people. If Lyta Alexander comes knocking on our door, all the firepower and 
courts in the EA won't be able to stop her from exacting revenge. Need I remind 
you and your people of a rather large hole in the Nevada desert? That could be 
any one of, or all of, our facilities. Do I make myself clear, Major Brown? 
Show them a picture of that hole, and make sure it gets through their thick 
skulls. She won't give a damn about anything, except whose idea it was who 
didn't stop it and of course who did it. Not much scares me anymore, major, but 
the thought of that woman coming after us terrifies me. Remind them that there 
are things much worse than death."

   "I'll see to it, general. When do we leave for San Francisco?" 

   "We are leaving as soon as I finish making a 'head' call."

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

In the precinct:

   Lt. Kelly walked over to Justine Johnson's desk, accompanied by two men, one 
looking like he was in his middle to late thirties, and an older one who looked 
mid-fiftyish, but was least ten years older. He and they stopped in front of 
her desk.

   Justine looked at them and asked, "What can I do for you gents?"

   The older of the men consulted his watch and replied, "It's lunch time, 
Officer Johnson. How about you and Lt. Kelly letting me and Major Brown buy you 
lunch."

   "Major Brown was in charge of removing the two fellows you had a problem 
with, Justine. You were asleep when he was here before."

   "You can buy me lunch, but I'm not going to settle for some fast food 
joint," responded Johnson.

   "There's a place down on the wharf that has fantastic seafood, Ms. Johnson, 
or so I'm led to believe," responded the older man. "Also, my name is Manuel 
Sanchez. Major Brown works for me."

   "The restaurant in question, Mr. Sanchez, is Sam's Seafood Palace. I've 
eaten there once, and they have fabulous food."

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

Sam's Seafood Palace:

   In spite of its name, Sam's Seafood Palace was a small theme restaurant. It 
featured displays of centuries old methods of harvesting the bounty of the 
Earth's oceans. The displays included a large database that could be accessed 
using computer screens that featured touch-sensitive controls. The restaurant 
had harpoons, nets, crab-pots and other fishing paraphernalia adorning the 
ceiling. The aroma of seafood permeated the entire restaurant.

   "God, if only the food tastes half as good as this place smells," commented 
Sanchez. 

   "It tastes much better, Mr. Sanchez," replied Johnson.

   After they ordered drinks, she asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Sanchez?"

   "Tell me about Lyta Alexander."

   "Are you interested in anything in particular?"

   "Start with your original assignment to arrest her," said Major Brown.

   "You ordered wine, Justine," said Kelly.

   "Of course, Lt. They're picking up the tab, and I'm not driving."

   Justine then explained about how she had started with her initial 
assignment, along with her late partner, Pat Handon, to arrest Lyta. She 
explained about his being the lead detective, and her misgivings about what 
they were doing, considering that they were homicide detectives, and she was 
wanted on an old felony warrant that didn't include a murder charge as such.

   "I complained to Handon about my misgivings, but he curtly reminded me that 
I was the junior partner, and that I could register my complaints after the job 
was finished. He brushed off my reminding him that she was here on a diplomatic 
passport. Maybe I should have been more forceful."

   "He was on someone's payroll, but I think you already suspected that," 
commented Brown.

   Justine continued, explaining about her thoughts about Lyta after the 
shooting incident in which five people were shot, but only one died. Sanchez 
noted that he and Brown had seen the videos of the shooting. Justine described 
their arrest of Lyta in detail. Whatever block Lyta had put in her mind to keep 
her from telling the truth about it seemed to have gone away of its own accord. 
The detail she gave was exactly what Brown was looking for. Justine showed them 
pictures of Lyta that Lt. Kelly had showed her.

   "On my own, I checked the hotel records for Lyta's room for the period after 
we arrested her. Someone used her room and ordered food and dry cleaning 
services while she was being held in the station. The personnel who provided 
the pick-up and delivery of the food and clothing never saw the person in the 
room. However, one of them said he shouted out to whoever was in the shower. He 
swears a woman's voice answered him. You can make of it whatever you wish. 
Personally, I believe it was Lyta. You may be inclined to agree, after I tell 
you about the trip to Nevada."

   Brown set a small data crystal reader on the table and turned the viewscreen 
toward Justine. "We have some interesting video, Officer Johnson. 
Unfortunately, we only have video. Ms. Alexander's face is obscured most of the 
time. Can you tell us what she said?"

   Justine took the small voice recorder offered by Sanchez. She repeated 
everything Lyta had said, as well as she could remember. She had Sanchez's and 
Brown's undivided attention. She finished talking about a minute before the 
food arrived. 

   "You have been an immense help, Officer Johnson," said Sanchez. "You have 
made our trip very worthwhile."

   "I've not seen the video of Lyta and me before today. I assume it isn't for 
public consumption."

   "That's correct, detective. However, since you were actually there, it's no 
secret to you what happened. As a matter of fact, this whole conversation is 
classified. It would be appreciated very much if neither one of you repeated 
anything you heard here," explained Sanchez.

   "No problem, gentlemen. Neither Justine nor I need the problems that 
repeating this would cause. Let's face it, we'd both end up in a padded room 
wearing the funny jackets with the extra long arms," replied Kelly.

   "Without any corroboration, you are most likely correct, Lt. Kelly," said 
Brown. "Besides, people don't want to know that there is someone like Lyta 
Alexander running around loose." 

   The lunch drifted into small talk, and Justine ordered a large dessert. 
Looking at Lt. Kelly, she said, "They have killer desserts here, and these 
fellows are paying the tab." Looking at Sanchez, she added, "I can't afford to 
eat here on my pay, Mr. Sanchez."

   Sanchez smiled. "I'd do the same thing, if our roles were reversed, Ms. 
Johnson."

   Back in his office, Lt. Kelly used his computer to obtain information on 
Manuel Sanchez. It took a few minutes to sequence through all the names that 
met his inquiry criteria, but finally he had what he was seeking. He walked out 
to Justine Johnson's desk.

   "Do you know who the Sanchez fellow is?"

   "No. Who?"

   "He's a lt. general in Earthforce. He's the head spook."

   "Well, the lunch was just fine, and as long as he was paying, I don't care 
who he is, convicted felons excepted."

   "I think you gave them a great deal of information they didn't have before 
they came here."

   "No kidding, Lt. I just told them why the base was destroyed. That's all."

   "Apparently, that's exactly what they were looking for. It should be 
interesting to see what is served up for public consumption."

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

In the San Francisco airport:

   "It looks like our theory about 'why' was right on the mark, general."

   "I'm not the least surprised, major. I assume you have a scenario already 
taking form in your mind."

   "Yes I do, general, and I think you're going to like the finished product. I 
wonder what Lt. Kelly would say if he knew Johnson was an undercover agent."

   "Not part of our scenario, major."

   "No sir. It isn't."

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

Edgars Industries, Bob Bryson's office, Wednesday, 0930:

   "How are things between you and Beverly Wiseman? Are the two of you through 
chucking spears at one another?" asked Michael Garibaldi.

   "We're civil, Mike. I've even had lunch with her and some other employees 
during this week."

   "I'm glad to hear that. Now that that's out of the way, how are our other 
projects proceeding?"

   "The Ivanova defense fund is growing like an overfed fungus. The monies are 
in holding as far as the bank examiners are concerned. The truth is we have 
invested some of the funds in a couple of high-risk ventures. All but one of 
them paid off nicely."

   "How did we make out?"

   "We invested 10 million credits in short term paper, and it's now worth 15 
million, and that's after the loss we took on one of the investments. The fund 
is worth almost 60 million credits. With the safe investments, I'd expect it to 
be worth about 65 to 70 million by the end of the quarter."

   "Just remember what this money is for. When the threat of the lawsuit is 
over it reverts to a blind trust for Susan. That's what the donors insisted on."

   "She will be one rich woman, if she doesn't lose the lawsuit."

   "I have a feeling that it'll be dropped before it ever gets to court."

   "Why do you think that?"

   "Lyta went to see Susan's lawyer, and then they went to see the Arklands. 
Shortly after that, I learned Mr. White's firm started getting a large volume 
of data that was being generated by some of the people I worked with before and 
during the Telepath War. I still have ties to many of them, in one manner or 
the other."

   "Lyta is using your spook network in an attempt to sabotage the Arklands?"

   "Something like that. I suppose we'll learn what, if any, effect her efforts 
produce by the time Susan goes to court. Hell, she doesn't even have a court 
date yet. How's the updating of your LAN coming?"

   "Beverly has two of her people working with two of mine. They are trying to 
define what we actually need to secure the system, without totally cutting it 
off from the outside world. I'm told we may have to use custom software 
specifically written for our department. I'm not sure I like that idea."

   "Let her do the job. If there are problems, it'll be her responsibility to 
rectify them. If you try to interfere, you buy the finished product, whatever 
it may turn out to be."

   "I still don't like letting someone else tell me what I need."

   "You just told me that two of your people are working with two of her 
people."

   "Yeah, but my people don't know squat about ordinary computer software, much 
less the stuff her people are pushing."

   "Why not assume that her people know what they're doing. The people in 
personnel are pleased with what she's doing for them."

   "You know my opinion of the personnel department."

   "Yeah, yeah, yeah. What else is new? You think you're the only department or 
division head that thinks personnel is their worst enemy."

   "Okay. I surrender. We have the process for manufacturing the new fabric 
developed by the Minbari firm in place. All we need is the license to start 
production. I still don't like having a Minbari looking over our shoulder."

   "It's either that or no license, and since we're getting an exclusive 
license for manufacture and distribution within the Earth Alliance, I'm not 
going to bitch about it."

   "Have you or any of our people discussed the possibility of our using their 
data to do research on related or unrelated materials or manufacturing 
processes?"

   "We're negotiating that now. So far, I've had no information about any 
success or lack thereof."

   "We've managed to recruit the programmers that Ivanova took with her on the 
Ares shakedown cruise. They weren't Earthforce military, so we made them an 
offer they couldn't refuse."

   "Would that be the four new programmers that Beverly just received from 
personnel."

   "Only one of them is. The others wouldn't leave Earth. So we set up a 
consulting company that they're working for."

   "I want you to check into getting us a good supply of Lyta's cryptographic 
data crystals. Beverly wants them."

   "Why?"

   "Why don't you ask her?"

   "I'll do that."

   "In fact, it would be doing me a favor if you took her to dinner."

   "You know the rule about fraternization between company employees, Mike."

   "Of course, I do. However, rules like that can be ignored, unless the 
personnel involved can't function properly in their jobs. Otherwise, we 
couldn't have husbands and wives working here."

   "I just don't like the idea of being too socially involved with another 
employee."

   "She won't bite you. If you're worried, I can get her an up-to-date rabies 
shot. Will that satisfy you?"

   "She's not a dog, Mike." 

   "I'm glad you noticed that."

   A few minutes later, Michael left Bryson's office without noticing that the 
last part of his and Bryson's secretary had overheard their conversation. 
Before the day was out, the Garibaldi and Bryson conversation, saying that they 
thought of Beverly Wiseman as a dog that needed rabies shots, was being 
repeated all throughout the company's offices. Garibaldi and Bryson were not 
identified as the upper management making the statement, but as usual by the 
time it reached Beverly Wiseman, it had been embellished.

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

In Beverly Wiseman's office, Wednesday, 1500:

   Beverly looked up to see her supervisor standing in front of her desk. 

   "What can I do for you, Mr. Benton?"

   "I thought maybe we could talk."

   "About what?"

   "I take it, you've heard the rumor that's making the rounds."

   Looking thoughtful, she asked, "What rumor is making the rounds?"

   Benton looked embarrassed. "The rumored conversation between two members of 
our upper management."

   "I don't pay attention to rumors, Mr. Benton. If I did, well... let's not go 
there."

   "So you don't want to talk about it?"

   "There's nothing to talk about, Mr. Benton."

   "If you feel the need to talk, Beverly, you know where to find me."

   Beverly watched Benton walk out of her office and began to think about what 
she had heard. She had heard the rumor that upper management thought she looked 
like a dog, and should be given a rabies shot, just in case she should bite 
someone. It was a ludicrous rumor, but she knew that every rumor contained at 
least a grain of truth.

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

In Beverly Wiseman's office 0700 Thursday:

   Beverly was still thinking about the rumor she had heard the day before. She 
made up her mind; she'd be damned, if she would let some mouse-brained ingrate 
screw up her week. With a smirk of a smile on her face, she planned a suitable 
response.

   It took her a full ten minutes to get it worded the way she wanted it, and 
to change the originator's name then she e-mailed it to everyone in the 
company. She reasoned that if she were going to be the butt of a vicious 
rumormonger, she'd go on the attack. It would show the rumormonger who was in 
control of the situation.

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

In Bob Bryson's office:

   Bryson had just finished fixing his coffee when he heard the beep that 
indicated that an e-mail had just arrived. He was still thinking about the 
rumor that had been circulated about Beverly Wiseman, as he set his coffee on 
the coaster he kept on his desk for just that purpose. It was an old mahogany 
executive desk, and he'd be damned if he was going to screw up its beautiful 
surface with water stains.

   Bob turned the computer viewscreen so he could see it properly and then 
pulled up his e-mail inbox. The newest subject matter of the e-mail was "A Good 
Home". The originator was Ellen Wiseman. The subject line, coupled with the 
sender's name peaked his interest about its content, since he didn't know of an 
Ellen Wiseman working for Edgar's Industries. He opened the e-mail and read it.

   Free to a good home, medium-sized dog, mixed breed, female, unspayed, has 
two female offspring. Dog answers to the name of Beverly, has had all her 
shots, has been wormed and is in excellent health. Beverly is the equivalent of 
thirty-five human years old, is warm, intelligent and companionable. In the 
past, Beverly has responded very well to warm loving male companionship. The 
successful owner should be a single male between the ages of twenty-five and 
sixty. However, Beverly does not respond well to other human female adults 
sharing the same quarters as she and her male companion. Please direct all 
serious inquiries to B. Ellen Wiseman.

   It took Bryson a few moments to digest the paragraph then he laughed out 
loud. Obviously, the Wiseman woman wasn't going to let some hateful person rain 
on her parade. Then he seriously considered who might have started the rumor. 
It had to have been someone who overheard part of his and Mike's conversation 
Wednesday morning. From where he stood that didn't leave many possibilities. 
Then he remembered that his intercom to his secretary's desk had been left 
open. He couldn't prove it had been her, but he didn't have to in order to have 
her replaced. She wouldn't be at her desk for at least another thirty minutes, 
so he finished his first cup of coffee and then fixed another one.

   Since Beverly Wiseman had sent the e-mail just a few minutes ago, it was 
reasonable to assume she was in her office. Bryson decided to go and talk to 
her.

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

In Michael Garibaldi's office:

   Like Bryson, Wiseman and a few others, Michael came into his office early. 
In comparison to his schedule when he had been security chief on Babylon 5, his 
hours expended in running Edgars' Industries were like a vacation. The stress 
levels were almost nil. He perused the subject listing of his unread e-mail. 
One of them in particular caught his eye. He read the paragraph and chuckled. 
Give the woman credit, she knew how to handle bad trash. He made a note to 
himself to go by her office later in the morning and explain what must have 
happened and apologize for its results.

   He finished reading and answering his e-mail then thought about the Wiseman 
e-mail again. He thought about how easily the situation could have become one 
very embarrassing incident to the company, and the effects such an action could 
have on the other employees' morale. She was a good woman, if only Bryson would 
get off his duff and make a go at having a relationship with her. He truly 
believed, as did Lise that the two of them were as close to a perfect match as 
you were likely to find, especially on Mars.

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

In Beverly Wiseman's office 0745:

   Wiseman was busy reviewing part of the LAN layout hers and Bryson's people 
had provided based on their last four days work. She heard a light knock on her 
office door.

   "Come in," she said without looking up.

   "Good morning, Ms. Wiseman. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

   "Good morning, Mr. Bryson. What can I do for you this early in the day?"

   "I have some questions to which I need answers, and you're the only person I 
can turn to for assistance. Also, I need to give you and explanation of 
something and an apology for what it became."

   She looked at him with an expression of genuine interest on her face. "Which 
do you want to do first?"

   "I think asking the questions first would be the correct order of things."

   She sat up straight and pushed back in her chair. "It's your show, Mr. 
Bryson. Ask away."

   "How well do you know my secretary?"

   "Marge Olsen was the first person I met in personnel when I came in for my 
personal interview with Harold Snyder, the personnel department manager at the 
time."

   "What is your impression of Mrs. Olsen?"

   "The first time she spoke to me she said bluntly, 'If I had my way, we'd 
never hire one of you Earthers over a Marsie.' That is an exact quote. It 
hasn't gotten any better over the years. She didn't like me when I was hired, 
and she has belittled me when the opportunity has presented itself. Oh, she's 
very careful what she says and in front of whom she says it, but it's there. I 
choose to ignore her and her mouth as much as possible. She does mediocre work, 
and I really have no use for her. There, now you know. Is there anything else?"

   "No, you have given me much to think about, when I consider your statements 
in light of other information I became aware of recently."

   "You said something about an apology. What's that all about?"

   "First I have to explain something." Then he proceeded to relate pertinent 
parts of the conversation he had with Garibaldi the morning of the day before.

   Wiseman studied him with an amused expression on her face. She even smiled 
at him.

   "I'm truly sorry for what came from mine and Mike's joking around. Mike was 
using the statements to badger me about some of my more questionable statements 
and actions of recent times. Neither he, nor I, would ever insult you or any 
other employee of this company in that manner. I hope you will accept my 
apology in the spirit it is given."

   "Your apology is accepted, Mr. Bryson," she said in a serious tone of voice.

   Bryson leaned forward and offered her his right hand. "Can we shake hands 
and be friends?"

   Wiseman took his hand, shook it and said, "Yes."

   Less than an hour later, there was another knock on her door. This time it 
was Michael Garibaldi.

   "What can I do for you, Mr. Garibaldi?"

   "I came here to offer you an explanation and an apology."

   "Would these two things have anything to do with your conversation with Bob 
Bryson yesterday morning?"

   "As a matter of fact, they would."

   "I'm afraid Bob Bryson has beaten you to it. He came in here about a quarter 
to eight and told me about it, and he apologized for how it was misused. I 
accepted his apology."

   "An hour late and a credit short. I want to offer my sincerest apology, Ms. 
Wiseman."

   "I accept it, Mr. Garibaldi."

   Michael, looking relieved, left Beverly's office.

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

In a secure briefing room in Earthdome:

   All the invited parties had arrived except President Luchenko. Her chief of 
staff was the first of her inner circle to arrive. Ten minutes later she 
arrived.

   Sanchez looked around the room. "Major Brown will be giving this briefing. 
It is classified top secret 'cosmic'. I'll be blunt. Leaking any of this 
information to the press will be grounds for prosecutions under the 'Official 
Secrets Act'. The parts that can be made public will be emphasized. Only the 
President is authorized to release that information. If anyone else does so, 
your security clearance will be immediately revoked. Major Brown, the floor is 
yours."

   Major Brown's briefing was anything but brief. An hour later, he asked for 
questions. When none were forthcoming, he said, "This concludes the briefing 
about the Nevada incident."

   Major Brown and General Sanchez left the room. Luchenko looked at 
Leftcourt. "The bit about prosecution was a bit heavy-handed, wasn't it, Tom?"

   "No ma'am. General Sanchez wants all information about this incident to come 
directly from you, Madam President. That way, you won't get bushwhacked by the 
press. It should put you in control of whatever spin you deem necessary."

   Looking at the various members of her staff, she said, "You all heard the 
general. Talk out of turn, and you are history as far as being on my staff. 
Thank you general for giving me something to work with. We will use the truth 
as much as we can."

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

On Slor:

   Lyta had been on the planet Slor for four days. She had managed to 'fix' 
Whitestar 89's sensors so that they registered, but didn't record or report the 
presence of her shuttle. Anyone watching the sensor displays would be unaware 
that they were actually watching an edited data display.

   Lyta's shuttle, a model that she had bought as military surplus, had been 
modified by a Martian concern while she had been on Earth the last few months. 
It had been modified to carry twice its normal load of fuel and its cargo 
compartment had been reinforced raising its maximum net cargo weight capacity 
to just over fifty metric tons. The maximum weight limit could not be reached 
carrying normal cargo due to volume space reduction. The modifications, which 
removed the weapons stowage areas, also allowed Lyta's shuttle to carry more 
than a dozen passengers and thirty metric tons of cargo halfway across the 
galaxy, using the regular hyperspace beacon system, or herself and two or three 
others all the way across it. It wasn't pretty or fast, but it was now a 
workhorse. A single person could remain alone in deep space for months, if he 
or she loaded out the shuttle properly. Due to her modifications, she was able 
to arrive on Slor with 980 of her little mountain reducers in the cargo hold. 

   It had taken her less than half of her first day to obtain the necessary 
personnel and transportation for her devices. Another half a day and she had 
programmed them to unload and transport the devices to the site of the 
underground installation. It was while altering the memories of her conscripted 
personnel and also those of their supervisors to prevent calling attention to 
the absence of the workmen that she became aware of something that didn't seem 
to fit in with her observations of various sentient life-forms. She hadn't 
noticed it the first time she had been on the planet, but on that occasion she 
had only been required to deal with one mind, and she hadn't actually been 
paying much attention to the details of that mind.

   The Slorians she had conscripted would deliver them throughout the 
installation. The small size of the bombs allowed them to be placed almost 
anywhere without anyone getting suspicious. They had been passed off as heat 
exchanger elements for the installation cooling systems.
  
   Lyta had spent the next three days, after obtaining her workforce, locating 
and examining the minds of the planetary leaders. She had visually disguised 
herself as a Slorian, and went about having meetings with those leaders. She 
had no hesitation about scanning the local population to find the information 
she needed, nor did she hesitate to co-opt the mind of anyone necessary to gain 
access to the people she sought.

   An unbiased observer would have been quick to accuse Lyta of abusing her 
abilities. Her answer would have been curt in that she was trying to solve a 
problem without having to exterminate a whole species. Closer to the truth was 
that she hadn't wanted this job, and she was going to get it done as soon as 
possible, and the devil be damned. Anyone, who didn't like her methods, was 
free to take over any time they felt like it. It was this wholesale rummaging 
through Slorian minds that had reinforced her feelings that something was very 
wrong with them.

   She was still muddling over her unease with what she was, or rather wasn't, 
finding in the Slorian minds. On a hunch, she entered the mind of the Minbari 
captain of the whitestar that was in synchronous orbit over the mountain range 
housing the Slorian weapons facility. She injected the idea of using the 
enhanced scanners to re-map the entire surface of the planet. He gave the 
orders, never knowing or learning that it hadn't been his own curiosity that 
had caused him to give them. Lyta figured it would take at least two weeks in 
low orbit for the whitestar to complete the new mapping mission. Meanwhile she 
began to do some traveling of her own.

   Lyta fired up her shuttle's engines, dropped into hyperspace, causing a very 
loud boom where her shuttle had been sitting, and set a course for the planet 
Gohr.

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

In the President's office building on Gohr:
   
   Jerl Sthul, the President's top aide, was so engrossed in what he was 
reading he failed to notice that someone had appeared in his office.

   "Jerl, aren't you even going to say hello?"

   The man almost jumped out of his clothing at the sound of an unexpected 
voice. "How did you get in here?"

   "I just popped in, Jerl. Hello, how are you doing. I'm doing fine," replied 
the beautiful redhead. It took a few moments for him to recognize her. "Your 
secretary rang you, but she got no response."

   "Hello, Ms. Alexander. I didn't hear the buzzer, because I had turned it 
off."

   "Honestly, Jerl, you seem more preoccupied these days than you did when I 
was here the first time."

   Jerl wrinkled his nose. "Whatever you say. How may I be of service?"

   "Your race has a history of studying astronomy, doesn't it?"

   "I'd like to think we're pretty good at it, and according to your IA 
astronomers, we are. What do you want to know about astronomy? You have been 
traveling amongst the stars for years."

   "I'm interested in your observations of your sister planet. I'd like to be 
able to determine when your people first detected the presence of artificial 
lights on its surface."

   "You want this because?"

   "I'm trying to determine the rate of their technical development. There is 
something about the dominant species that causes me consternation."

   "When would you need this information?"

   "The sooner the better. I have to make a decision very soon, and I'm really 
not happy with my options. The data your people provide to me may limit those 
options even further."

   "Where are you staying?"

   "I don't have a place yet. I was hoping you might put me in touch with 
someone who can help me, and I'd take it from there. I haven't had breakfast 
yet. I'm going to go get something to eat. I'll call back later this morning."

   "Give me an hour, Ms. Alexander."

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

   Lyta sat in a small restaurant and ate the Gohr equivalent of bacon and eggs 
with coffee and hash browns and toast. She was pleasantly surprised that the 
local version of coffee tasted very close to Earth style coffee. She sat at the 
window table and watched the morning pedestrian traffic go about its business. 
It could have been anyplace on several dozen planets. The only thing that made 
it different was the physical appearance of the native population. They 
resembled humans closely except for an obviously heavier bone structure. That 
was explained by the fact that Gohr had a gravity almost ten percent greater 
than Earth's.

   Lyta sat and ate at a very slow pace. Her waiter kept her coffee cup filled. 
It had been a long time since she had last let herself just relax and let the 
world go by. She was finding it very enjoyable and stress reducing. There 
wasn't one chance in a billion that anyone would recognize her, first because 
very few people on the planet knew who she was, and second, there were few non-
natives on the planet. In spite of its admission to the IA, it still wasn't on 
any main interstellar trading route. She guessed that it would be at least 
another decade or two before the interstellar traffic became significant. By 
then she would have increased her recent investments in local business 
enterprises a thousand fold.

   She finished her breakfast, which she didn't need for nutrition at her 
present state of development, but ate anyway for the pleasure, and called the 
President's aide. He informed her that a Professor Stath of the planetary 
observatory would see her at 1100 hours local standard time and gave her the 
address. She took her time, used a taxi and arrived five minutes early. 

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

1100 Hours at the planetary observatory:

   Professor Stath didn't keep Lyta waiting. After all, it wasn't every day one 
got a call from the planetary president's office, and besides he had recognized 
the name of his visitor.

   Stath approached the visitor's desk after having been notified that his 
visitor had arrived. "Ms. Alexander, I'm Professor Stath. I've been expecting 
you."

   Lyta pinned the visitor badge on her lapel and moved to shake hands with 
Stath. "I'm pleased to meet you, professor."

   "If you will follow me, I'll show you to my office."

   Lyta followed the old gentleman into a comfortable office. It had academia 
written all over it. Professor Stath took seat behind an old heavy desk. Lyta 
took a seat on an overstuffed leather couch.

   "You know some very important people, Ms. Alexander. How may I be of 
service?"

   "When I was here the last time, I learned a bit about your history. If 
memory serves me, your people have been delving in the various sciences for a 
very long time. I believe your efforts in astronomy go back almost two thousand 
standard years."

   "Yes it does. I'm quite proud of what we have been able to accomplish, given 
our technological limitations."

   "I can imagine the reaction when your people discovered the planet Slor was 
inhabited."

   "Not really, Ms. Alexander. We had used various methods to ascertain the 
composition of Slor's atmosphere. Based on those studies, we were almost 
certain that life must exist there, even if it were only bacteria. Needless to 
say our curiosity increased by magnitudes when we discovered that there were 
large life-forms living there. Because we only had crude chemical rockets at 
that time, there was no way we could actually go there and see for ourselves in 
person, so-to-speak."

   "I can believe it must have driven your scientists to distraction not to be 
able to do anything but look on from a distance."

   "I gather that it is those observations in which you have an interest?"

   "Yes it is. If you have pictures of those observations, starting from just 
before your people first became aware of the larger animals, up to when I first 
arrived in your solar system, I'm interested in documenting the speed of 
technological advancement of the Slorians."

   "May I ask the purpose of your interest?"

   "Certainly. I believe the development of the Slorians was interfered with by 
an outside agent."

   "And that would mean what?"

   "It could determine how long their species or race, if you will, survives."

   "That has an ominous ring to it, Ms. Alexander."

   "It should. Let's face it, professor. Your people haven't fought a major war 
of any kind amongst themselves for several hundred standard years. By most 
definitions, your people are downright peaceful. The Slorians are as opposite 
from you as it is possible to get. They'll exterminate your people if they ever 
learn how to land safely on your planet."

   "That possibility actually frightens me, Ms. Alexander. Are you going to 
handle this problem personally?"

   "The IA is prevented from acting proactively by the treaties amongst its 
many members. So, I suppose it falls to me by default."

   "You're fortunate. Just after your first arrival, we decided to computerize 
our photographs and the text data associated with them. We started with the 
observation data associated with Slor. I can have a copy made for you if you 
wish."

   "I'd appreciate that, professor. However, I would also like to discuss the 
material with someone who specializes in that area of your work. Also, I prefer 
the material to be recorded to my portable computer. If you can get us a 
computer technician, it should be a simple matter to set up an exchange 
interface."

   "I can arrange that, but you will have to come back tomorrow morning. I'm 
assuming you will want to study the material first then have the discussion."

   "Sounds like a plan to me professor."

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

   Since her shuttle's computers were much more powerful than her portable, 
Lyta spent the night there, using the time to quickly review the data that had 
been downloaded into her computer; starting with the earliest pictures from the 
data files, which were from the period before the first lights appeared on Slor.

   The images were taken by a very high power telescope that had been put into 
orbit above the planet. The data indicated that two more orbiting telescopes 
were launched from Gohr and put into orbits slightly higher than what would be 
needed for geosynchronous operation. The three telescopes had slightly 
retrograde orbits and were always within sight of one another. It gave the 
Gohrians the ability to continuously monitor any point on the planet's surface. 
Lower power telescopes kept themselves pointed at their sister telescope 
platforms.

   It was almost morning when Lyta noticed something in the pictures that 
shouldn't have been there. In one set of pictures taken by one of the 
telescopes monitoring its sisters, there appeared to be a jump point opening in 
the distant background. Starting at that point Lyta began closer scrutiny of 
the pictures. She found several other pictures that showed what appeared to be 
jump points in the background. She instructed her shuttle's computers to look 
for objects associated with those occurrences. Finally she found what she had 
been looking for. A small ship that looked somewhat like a Shadow transport 
shuttle was caught in the field of view of one of the powerful telescopes that 
were oriented toward the planet's surface. She watched the series of pictures 
and saw the ship land on one of the large islands on the planet. The database 
of pictures ended. The next data files started almost thirty years after the 
first one. Lyta wondered why. Scanning the text files rendered the answer that 
the first telescope arrays had been destroyed. It had taken decades for the 
Gohrians to resume their observations of their sister planet. The catalyst had 
been the appearance of lights on the night side of the planet.

   The computers on Lyta's shuttle, running custom system software developed by 
the rangers for operations of the whitestars, were installed as a computer farm 
capable of performing as one extremely powerful computer. In addition to the 
operation of Lyta's shuttle's systems, the software had been further customized 
for high-speed analysis of research data. Her experiences during her travels 
with G'Kar had made her painfully aware of the weakness of not being able to 
quickly determine who, what, and why about whoever or whatever they met.

****************************
 
In Edgar's Industries cafeteria:

   Sharing a table during lunch, Bob Bryson, Beverly Wiseman, Kelly Benton and 
Alice Lowell were deep in conversation about children and their needs in 
developing properly. The discussion was beginning to center on the part males 
play in the child's development, and programs like Big Brothers and Big Sisters 
were some of the objects of the conversation.

   "Big Brothers and Big Sisters are good programs, but I personally think that 
children, boys or girls profit from having a good loving male influence around. 
You can be the best mother in the universe, but you still aren't a male. There 
are things children learn by just being in the presence of a male family 
member," insisted Beverly.

   "I agree with Beverly," said Alice. "I like to think I'm a good mother, but 
I can't give my kids what they get from their father, be it good or bad. I'm a 
female; it just isn't possible."

   "You seem to be intensely interested in this, Beverly," noted Bryson.

   "I am because I don't have a male influence in my home for my twins to learn 
from."

   "Boys or girls?" asked Bryson.

   "I have a set of twin daughters. They're about to turn nine years old, and 
they have no memory of their father, Mr. Bryson."
     
   "What do you plan to do about it, Beverly?" asked Benton.

   "I'm not sure there is even anything I can do about it. I mean you can't 
just approach a man and ask, 'Hey, mister. Would you like to be a male role 
model for my children?' Can you?"

   "It's an interesting situation," said Bryson. "I mean, I can't imagine a 
woman asking me a question like that."

   "Why not, Bob? You're unattached and you would make a wonderful role model. 
See, Beverly, finding a male for the job is a piece of cake."

   "Wait a minute, Alice. I don't need you to volunteer me for any 
extracurricular activities," complained Bryson.

   "What's the matter, Bob? Can't you handle a pair of eight-year old girls?"

   "Okay, guys. Give Mr. Bryson a break. I wasn't thinking of looking for 
anyone. It was just a good subject for discussion, and judging from the 
reactions, I was correct. Besides, it's time to get back to work," said Beverly.

   Bryson looking obviously relieved that the conversation had ended, finished 
his coffee and got up and left.

   Alice looked at Kelly and Beverly and said, "I think we just scared the 
bejesus out of old Bob."

   On their way back to work Kelly told Beverly, "I honestly think Bob would 
make a terrific role model for your girls."

   "I'm not sure what to think about you and Alice, Mr. Benton."

   "You don't agree with our assessment of Bob?"

   "It's not that. You embarrassed him unnecessarily. He's an okay guy, even if 
he is an old man. Remember, for me, anyone who is older than I am is an old man 
or woman."

  "I suppose that makes me and Alice an old man and woman."

   "It's a joke, Mr. Benton."

   "Bob's got me by at least ten years, but he's in better shape than I am. 
I've watched him play squash and racquetball on occasion. Even in the Martian 
gravity, he's someone to be reckoned with. He says he has workout equipment at 
home that gives him the same workout that he would get in a one gravity 
environment."

   "I'll take your word for all that, but it has no bearing on our 
conversation."

   "I'm not kidding, Beverly. He would be a good role model for your children."

   "He has no use for me, Mr. Benton. We are civil toward one another, and that 
is only because Mr. Garibaldi insists on it. In spite of coming to an 
understanding, we aren't really friends. I mean we've shook hands and agreed to 
be friends, but that's only within the workplace environment."

   "I hate to burst your bubble, Beverly, but that doesn't wash. I've seen him 
look at you when you aren't aware of it."

   "Whatever you say, Mr. Benton," replied Beverly, in a voice that said she 
didn't agree. "Remember; having a man look at me like a piece of meat isn't 
exactly my idea of a compliment."

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

0800 Hours the day after Lyta's arrival on Gohr:

   "Professor Stath, gentlemen. I'd like to start this by presenting something 
that caught my interest last night while I was reviewing the data files you 
provided to me," said Lyta using her portable computer's imaging projection 
function.

   The pictures of the jump points and the craft that had been captured in the 
picture seemed to stand in the air before the assembled astronomers.

   "How did you manage to sift through all the data we provided, Ms. 
Alexander?" asked a Gohrian who looked to be about forty standard years 
old. "Our computers couldn't have accomplished that in at least two weeks. It 
took us two hours just to download all the data files we provided to you."

   "You are who? Sir?" she asked.

   "I'm Professor Hondel Balter. I was responsible for downloading the data you 
requested."

   "I used my shuttle's computer system to sift the data and enhance the 
pictures that I found to be of most interest."

   "What kind of computers does your shuttle employ, Ms. Alexander?" asked 
another man.

   "It has five identical Minbari mini-computers computers installed in a farm 
setup. It allows them to operate as stand-alone units or as a single super-
computer when necessary. It's handled automatically by the operating system. As 
resources are needed, they're allocated to whatever task has been assigned. 
However, flight controls and environmental requirements are always top 
priority, unless the shuttle is parked on the ground in a benevolent 
environment. That's the situation at present. If you can afford it, the Minbari 
government may be convinced to sell you an older system. Even their obsolete 
systems will outperform the most powerful computers now available on your 
planet by several magnitudes." 

   Lyta continued to show them the pictures she found of interest. Those taken 
early in the Gohrian observations had been greatly enhanced by Lyta's 
computers. It was possible to actually make out the largest life-forms on the 
planet. When they saw the pictures, the Gohrians sucked in their breaths as one.

   Professor Balter said, "That looks like a modern Slorian, but the lack of 
clothing and its mannerisms make it appear not to be sentient."

   "I'm glad you noticed that Professor Balter. These next pictures are really 
going to upset you," noted Lyta.

   Lyta was as good as her word. The next series of enhanced pictures 
documented the first communal settlements on Slor. She continued until the 
series ended in the destruction of the telescope system.

   "You may have noted that the Slorians developed from apparently non-sentient 
into communal villages in the space of a few years. That kind of development on 
most planets takes a million years, maybe a hundred thousand or so in very 
special cases. I have to conclude that the present day Slorians did not evolve 
naturally to their present state of development."

   "Do you have an explanation for what we have seen, Ms. Alexander?" asked 
Balter.

   "I'm going to tell you a story about very old civilizations, and how they 
played with younger races. After I'm finished, I think you'll have a better 
understanding of my being here today."

   Lyta proceeded to tell them about the Shadows and Vorlons and how they 
played with the younger races. It took her almost a standard hour to tell them 
what she wanted them to know. Everyone of the people present gave her their 
undivided attention.

   "What you're telling us is that we weren't suitable for the Shadows' needs, 
but that the un-evolved Slorians were."

   "Exactly. The Slorians were the perfect raw material. The results of the 
Shadows' efforts is a race with absolutely no more conscience than your most 
vicious predator. The problem is that they know how to manufacture and use 
modern weapons. You can see why they can't be allowed to spread out into the 
galaxy."

   "The only way to stop them, Ms. Alexander, would seem to be to destroy their 
entire species," noted Professor Stath.

   "On the surface, it appears that way, professor. I have an idea that might 
accomplish the same thing without such drastic action."

   "And that would be?" asked Balter.

   "Completely destroy their infrastructure and reduce them to stone age 
conditions. That will probably result in the deaths of ninety per cent of the 
planet's population. It should take them several thousand years to climb back 
to where they are now. In the interim, someone can introduce corrections into 
their DNA by genetic manipulation. In several thousand years, they may well be 
ready to be incorporated into the galactic community."

   "What gives you the right to make such determinations, Ms. Alexander. They 
are sentient which gives them the right to make their own decisions," said a 
younger member of the audience.

   "I appreciate your concerns. I assume the right to make that decision 
because no one else can."

   "What are you going to do if someone opposes you? Not all of us accept what 
you are presenting as gospel, to use a religious term."

   Lyta smiled and said, "You and your friends are welcome to go to Slor and 
negotiate with their leaders. I'll supply transportation for you. If you're 
successful, I'll abide by whatever you negotiate. The only thing I require is 
that you survive the negotiations. The Slorians will happily butcher you and 
eat you raw.  I'll transport any volunteers to Slor as soon as I finish here 
today. I'll even do the introductions. Deal?"
 
   There was chuckling amongst most of the audience. "That's not funny, Ms. 
Alexander," said the man.

   "It wasn't meant to be!" she snapped. "I just want you to know what you're 
talking about before you shoot off your mouth," she replied condescendingly. 
"You are totally ignorant of the Slorians and what makes them do what they do. 
I'm not. I'm a very powerful telepath; I know exactly what they're thinking. I 
can give you a demonstration if it'll make you understand the situation better."

   "I pass, Ms Alexander, but I still think what you're planning is wrong."

   "Unless you are willing to go and learn, I'm not particularly interested in 
what you think."

   Professor Stath and the other members of the audience began to ask questions 
in earnest. They made it very clear that they weren't comfortable with what 
Lyta had learned by reprocessing their data files. Stath had been aware of what 
Lyta had learned the first time she went to Slor because he had been one of the 
President's inner circle of advisors, a position he still held. He knew from 
her actions at that time that killing, even a monstrosity such as had been made 
of the Slorians, bothered her to the depths of her soul.

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

On Babylon 5:

   Captain Lochley was sitting on her couch with her legs curled up under her. 
She looked at Larry Evans and said, "I've got a problem, Larry."

   "Is it anything I can help with?" asked Evans.

   "I'm afraid you've been too much help already."

   "What's wrong?"

   "I've been having unexpected and unexplained bouts of being sick at my 
stomach for the last week. I finally went and saw Dr. Hobbs. She had me see Dr. 
Miller."

   "She's a gynecologist, isn't she?"

   "Most certainly. She ran some tests and it seems that my knowledge of my 
physical health conditions have been in error."

   "I'm waiting."

   "Larry. I'm pregnant."

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

END PART 14

15

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