The Paths Not Taken
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//Private Thoughts or mental argument - when one person is trying to decide something.//
*//Thoughts broadcast to/from (another) telepath//*
~Emphasis marks~
~~~~ scene change - small (or POV change)
******** scene change - large (or POV change)
Secrets of the Soul Part 1 (alternate/missing scenes - first half of episode)
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//This bad day just keeps getting worse,// Susan worried to herself behind her mental walls. //Don't they know that coming here will mean the Corps will get them in a month? Is the idea of 'community' that important to them? Stupid Question, rogue. You're just worried about saving your own skin. If Lyta hadn't been right there with you for a training session when Bester had walked in and jammed him, you'd have been taken away with the rest of them. At least for this group, I can pass the buck to the Chief on the grounds of rules. But I don't know what's with that skinny dark-haired man. There's something very strange and familiar about his powers. He reminds me of Talia's signature, after Ironheart got to her. Whatever ~that~ means! Hurry up, Zack, before one of these nervous refugees tries to scan me and says something about me! Speak of the devil.// She glanced moodily at the unsmiling face of Zack Allan as he approached. Her expression was one of 'Can't I break the regs here and hurt someone?'
"What's the problem, Captain?" He asked as he eyed the motley assortment next to her. From their expressions, postures, and general appearance, he had a nasty hunch as to what her answer would be.
"Travel Violation. They don't have any money, any transit papers, and half of them don't have current I.D. This should mean we can toss them off, but . . ."
The tall man spoke up, stammering. "We are w-with Byron. We were told we could c-c-come here."
"More telepaths, great." Zack muttered out loud, clearly displeased. There were already about 40, maybe more rogue telepaths on the station. 39, maybe more than he wanted near him.
"This is not the right place?" The tall one slowly queried. "This is where we are gather-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, this is the right place." Zack interrupted. "But this is getting out of hand. How many more of you people are coming here?"
Susan tried to signal Zack midsentence to look behind him at what she could see approaching, but wasn't successful. //There's the shepard, here for his flock's additions. What is it now, 80 - 85 rogues? This is not good. At least she's still watching him like I asked. But the way she's walking - like she followed the second vorlon. Bad sign.//
"How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? That question baffled religious thinkers for centuries, until someone finally hit upon the answer. How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? As many as want to. How many of my brother and sister telepaths are coming? As many as want to." Byron was again showing off his extensive education.
"There isn't any chance you could, oh, I don't know, give us an estimate on your numbers? You did say a ~small~ colony to me, did you not?" She complained.
"I did. Let me again assure you that our presence will not a permanent one. For now, I remind you we have not broken any of your rules or ignored any station laws. I would also remind you that you are under orders from President Sheridan to allow us in. As for our friends here, " Byron indicated the small group beside them, silently watching for their fate be decided, "we will provide you with all the paperwork that you require. You have my word."
//You didn't answer my question, oh handsome arrogant one, her brain sarcasted in his general direction.// Her visible reaction was to sigh.
Zack spoke up. "Alright, you can go." When the nervous group didn't move away fast enough, his voice was a little louder and a lot rougher. "Come, move, go, go!" The group scattered for the exit, Byron a step behind them as Zack's tone softened a little. "Lyta . . . can I talk to you for a minute, please?"
Lyta paused to wait while Zack turned back to Susan. 'These guys are going to be trouble, and all we can do is watch it happen. There's more going on here than there're telling us," he complained, then took Lyta's arm and led her away to talk.
//Zack, you have no idea how much trouble this is going to be, either way this goes, I'm in trouble. Byron knew right away I was a new teep. He may have told the others to keep quiet on it but what happens if one of them gets mad and tells? Not that it's likely to happen, but when the 60 days are up one of them might try to strike a deal. Their freedom for my capture. It'll backfire, of course, but I've seen enough evidence already this year of taking someone with you to the grave to be very very wary.//
She scowled at the world in general, and moved off in a cloud of ill mood back towards her interrupted C&C shift.
~~~~
Zack showed her to a seat at a closed bar, away from prying ears. He wasn't sure how he was going to say this, he just hoped he didn't fubar it. This might be his last chance. She'd been following Byron in a way that he didn't like, among other signs . . . He'd overheard Ivanova, months ago, tell her to keep an eye on Byron when she couldn't do it herself, but there was a light, an expression that intensified in her eyes every time she'd headed for downbelow - and she was sometimes there at odd hours of the night. "I know you're busy, but, uh, this won't take long."
"That's fine, Zack, what can I do for you?" She asked.
He gritted his teeth, trying not to let his anger take over. "I need you to be very forgiving of anything stupid I say in the next couple of minutes."
He smile fell a little. "Why?"
"I need to know - hell, I DO know - but I need to hear it from you, I guess. What . . .what the hell are you doing with those people?!" He snapped at her.
She immediately got defensive. "What? what 'people'?"
Zack tapped the side of his hand on the counter, counting to 10 again before speaking through gritted teeth. //Don't accuse her if you don't have proof!// "Byron, the others . . those . . . people."
" 'Those People' are telepaths, the same as me."
"No, no, not the same, I could trust you - well I used to think I could. I don't trust them, and I sure as hell don't like any of them. The way they hang together like that. I just . . . I don't like it. And that Byron's the worst of the bunch. The way he moves and talks and looks at everyone who's normal like they're one step above pond scum."
"Byron is a sweet, charming, sympathetic man who's trying to create a better world-"
"He's trouble and I don't think you should be seeing him anymore." He interrupted and ordered.
~Now~ she was not even a little amused. "Who said I was 'seeing' him?" She demanded.
"Lyta, I've . . . had security out on his bunch." He admitted.
"So you've been SPYING on me?"
He shook his head. "I didn't say that."
"You're jealous!" She accused.
"No, I am not jealous." //Yes you are. You just don't want to admit it.//
"No?" She replied with just a hint of arrogance. "Care to give me permission to peek inside and find out?"
"You don't understand!" He cried as his fury got a hold of him.
Now she was definitely angry. "No, I understand, Zack I understand ~plenty~. You and the others needed my help during the shadow war and I did that. I put my life on the line and what did I get? You were going to boot me into smaller quarters because I couldn't ~afford~ any better?! The only way I got out of that mess was to re-join the Psi Corps, and you don't even ~want~ to know the deal I had to make to pull that one off. You did NOTHING to even try to help. You stopped speaking to me right at the start of August, not a word, not a visit, NOTHING."
"Lyta-" he tried.
"I'm not finished," she spat out at him. "After all that, you had the nerve to ask me to risk my life a second time during the civil war back home, and Stupid! Me! I did it. And what did I get out of that? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I got no life, no hope, no prospects. Now along comes Byron, and for the first time in a long while I feel like someone actually cares about what happens to me."
"I care what happens to you, Lyta." he pleaded softly.
"Yeah. Maybe that's true. But talk is cheap, Zack. Byron is putting his life on the line for his people, and I'm one of them. He's given us back a sense of dignity, community. I'm proud of that, and I'm proud of him. I finally have friends, Zack! People who will stop and talk to me. Friends who actually smile when I'm around, instead of treating me like a leper. I didn't ask to be a telepath, none of us did. But we are, and you'd have us shut away or killed for something we had no choice about. I'm sick of being controlled, Zack. By the Corps, by the Vorlons, by President 'I came back from the dead' Sheridan. There's a chance of freedom with Byron, a good chance, that I am taking, and it doesn't matter what you or anyone else thinks. I want a HOME. If you can't handle that, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it." She got up and started to walk away.
He tried one last, frantic time, taking hold of her arm to stop her. 'If you could just give me five minutes - "
She pulled her arm away, just a little past the point of caring. "Zack . . . if Byron asked me to follow him into hell, I'd do it gladly with a smile on my face. Because I believe in him. What could you possibly say in five minutes that would change that?"
"Nothing." He admitted in a whisper. "But I want to apologize. For not getting there sooner."
"What, in the customs area? So you could harrass them more? Send them away before Byron and I arrived?"
"Who do you think found out about that stupid power of attourney and told Ivanova? Do you want me to admit that I was too blind to realize Bester's repeating the phrase of not bothering the 'command staff' meant he planned to harrass you and Micheal? I was too stupid. I'm sorry. Because by the time I did clue in, that bastard creep had already left with your name signed, and I still wish I hadn't taken so long. What was I supposed to do, promise to destroy your body should you die? Admit I might fail in my duty to protect you? I should have, and if need be I will, but I guess it's gotten too late for talking about that. I avoided you because I knew that if I looked in your eyes, I'd break down. I avoided you because Talia said to Micheal at least a dozen times that Corps were not permitted to associate with non-Corps-"
"Tal was a lesbian! She couldn't stand to be near ANY male after she was raped right after she graduated from the Academy!" Lyta spat out, angry and upset. "And maybe you ~were~ too stupid to look at the rules . . . If you'd asked me out last summer I'd have been very willing to follow you, right into bed if you'd wanted. Did you think I missed the way your eyes would have to move up to look into my face? The only reason I didn't break a couple of your bones was because at least you DID look, and I was too afraid of everything to turn away the slightest bit of nice attention. But you never followed through. Care to explain that, Mr. I'm-just-here-because-it's-my-job? Byron at least keeps his eyes in their sockets around me!"
"You're right. I have no right to stop you from seeing anyone you want, but I had to at least try to warn you. Maybe you're right, and this won't end knee-deep in blood. I hope for your sake that Byron gets his damned homeworld where you don't have to worry about the Corps hunting you down. I can't help it if I thought - still think - that you're incredibly beautiful, and I'm sure Byron hasn't missed it either. I hope he makes you ~REAL~ happy when you go downbelow for your usual 3-4 plus hour visit. I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry. And I am jealous, and I'm terrified for you. What happens when it does get ugly? What do you plan to do then? You're not wearing that damned Psi pin or gloves, I've noticed. Are you planning to let them take you in a month? Let them rip you apart because they think there's something different about you? Oh, God, Lyta, please be careful. I can't stop you, I want to but I won't control you, but please say you'll be careful. When - if - things turn ugly, get out. I'll do anything I can to help you, anyone you say is a friend. If you can't get out, I'll do what I can to help anyway. I - I'm just sorry." He turned and walked away, unable to face her.
She stood there, stunned, for almost a minute, wondering if maybe he did care. Then she shut away her feelings, and headed away on a different route to downbelow. She wanted to find a shoulder to cry on.
********
//What the heck is wrong with everyone? It's never this quiet and moody.// Susan wondered what had gotten everyone's fur rubbed the wrong way. She stood just inside the entrance, watching. She'd just finished her shift, and had come to greet the new arrivals properly, when prying mundanes ears weren't around. But . . . there weren't any words being spoken at all in the sanctuary. Usually the verbal chatter was a steady background hum to compliment the mental conversations that should have been lapping against her walls like a steady inward tide. Instead there was nothing. She let some stones down into a pair of mental wheelbarrows, listening closer. Nothing. Private thoughts bubbled in the distance, but nothing was being broadcast. It was almost totally quiet. It was strange, this never happened unless - "Is someone here who shouldn't be?" She whispered to a passing teep, who just shook his head, then pointed towards the hallway leading to Byron's alcove. // ? //
She went in the direction indicated, but was stopped halfway by an urgent whisper. "Susan!"
Lyta was sitting crosslegged with a few others, leaning against a wall. There was a little blonde kid standing in her lap, chewing on a lock of her hair with the great concentration of one who was teething. Lyta was looking the worst off of the entire group, with tearstains on her face. The trails were evident even in the dim light provided by the candles as Susan walked over. // ?! A baby?// "What's wrong? Why's everyone-"
"Byron was beaten again . . . " Lyta softly explained, her eyes flicking towards the dim outlines on the other side of the loosely woven curtain which separated Byron from the others. A girl sitting beside her, one of the new ones, let her see the memories of the encounter.
"Oh, God . . ." Susan began, turning to go to him.
"He doesn't-" Lyta tried, but she had already gone in.
"Why isn't somebody taking care of you?!" She demanded, seeing his battered face.
His gaze shifted from staring moodily into nothing to stare moodily at her. His chin rested on his fist, half-slumped in the chair. "Because they understand that in times like these, I prefer not to be disturbed."
Susan was a tad annoyed at this. "Just a minute." She moved into the restroom, finding a bowl and filling it with warm water, grabbing a clean rag someone had set out for Byron to use as a cloth. "I found out what happened. There were just as many of you as there were of them. So why did you let them do that to you?" She began to dab away the dried blood from his cheek and mouth.
"Because then there would have been seven of our people hurt instead of just one. Violence is not our way, Susan."
"Yeah, whatever. At times like this, it is mine."
"No!" He took her hand in his, making sure he had her attention. "Violence is their way. The way of the mundanes, who would use us, control us, and in the end kill us. Because they're afraid of us. The Psi Corps has adopted their ways, treating us as the mundanes treat them, because they're afraid of themselves. And because they don't know any other way. They don't understand."
"Understand what?" She asked, returning to her minstrations.
He flinched slightly before he answered. "No tyranny has ever really lasted. No government based on violence has endured. Sooner or later, they all fall. We're here to build a new life for ourselves. A home among the stars. Would you built a home on a foundation you knew would not last?"
"No, of course not-"
"Then why should we use the same tools of violence and fear that they use?"
Susan began to sputter in confusion and anger. "But when they do ~this~, doesn't it make you mad, don't you want to strike back, j - just - what?! What's so funny?!"
"Do you know what you are?" He asked, smiling.
"What?" She asked in bewilderment.
"A b.c.f.m.o," he whispered. Susan pulled a blank look out, so he explained through a painful grin. "A brightly colored, fast moving object. You don't just walk into a room, you blaze in and blaze out like a comet! There's so much more to you than meets the eye."
"If you only knew . . ." Susan muttered ruefully. "Stop smiling!" She ordered, trying to erase the last dry crimson specks from the corners of his lips.
"Then - go - away! If you're here I'm afraid I can't help myself!" Even his eyes were smiling at her.
Susan heaved a very exasperated sigh. "What am I going to do with you . . . "
"I sometimes wonder the same thing about you."
"Well, when you figure it out, let me know." Susan commented, placing the bowl and cloth down and looking into his eyes.
"You first," he whispered to her.
She leaned in the few inches that separated their faces and touched his lips with her own briefly. Byron met her halfway, and started a second kiss, slightly longer than the first. Then they touched foreheads for a long moment, resting in each other's company after the stressful day. "I'll . . . um . . . I'll go to see Doctor Franklin and get something for your bruises. To make them go away by tomorrow."
"They're already gone." He said softly.
"I can still see them."
"Only on the outside." Byron and Susan both smiled.
"Well . . ." she commented, "I should go."
He quickly took her hand before she could pull away completely. "You never stay more than a few minutes. Why?"
"I - I couldn't get away with it, work and all. And I don't feel like I belong here, not yet, anyway. I can't risk exposure as a teep, it would end my career, my life. I can't be with you, as much as I might want to believe that I'm one of you."
"You can and will stay. Stay now. Stay with me tonight, at least a few hours of your company-"
"No, no I can't Byron, I want to, but-"
He had stood them both up, and led her out into the main room. "Susan does not yet feel that she can be here, that she truly belongs among us. What do you say?"
Susan gulped nervously for a second before lowering her wall and listening. She instantly had to blink damp eyes. One of the women came up first, Amiee, that was her name, took her hands and let Susan hear what she thought, making the Captain smile with surprise and joy, and they hugged. Then another rogue shared kindness, and a third, and a forth, then Susan lost count as the overwhelming sense of community flowed through her. When Lyta eventually took her turn, Susan gave her a fierce bearhug and told her now she understands why Lyta came so much - and hello! She hugged the little kid in Lyta's arms, too, and lost all tear control when the little tike - a boy? - called *//Hello Auntie! :) //* with his mind.
Bad day for Susan, perhaps, but when she went back to her room to sleep a few minutes later, her evening was the best she'd had for many months. Possibly for years. //I belong! I can fit in. I'm loved . . . I'm loved . . . :) // Her mental grin was as bright as a supernova.
~~~~
Lyta slowly lowered herself and her charge down after watching Susan walk away with a lightness in her step that Lyta'd never seen before. Lyta was entirely worn out from the long day as she collapsed onto the cold metal floor. *//I am so glad Susan is happy. She deserves happiness so much . . . right, Tyler?//*
*//HAPPYgood YES!//* He giggled, then frowned, chomping down on his fingers while drooling.
*//My poor little Tyler . . . How can I find you some teething rings without having to answer to Zack again? The universe is full of puzzles. Here, try my hand, it's got fewer toothmarks than your own. Ow. Gently! There.//* She tenderly numbed his gums against the pain. *//My little Tyler . . . always giving Lyta hugs when she needs them.//*
*//PrettyLady Lyta hug HUG good//* And he demonstrated. *//Daddy not give good hugs/Tyler not a PrettyLady/Daddy not hug Tyler 'nuff.//*
Lyta grew a little more uncomfortable. She couldn't shake the idea of a toddler knowing about the more 'mature' facts of life, but couldn't ask Byron to suddenly become celebate. The rogues shared everything . . . sometimes Tyler overheard, if he had wandered out of the kid's room. Sometimes he butted in. The twins were not even the least bit amused last week when their time with Byron had been put on pause by an untrained little whelp crying *//Yucky mushy!//* into their brains as they helped each other take off Byron's clothing.
Lyta had just turned bright, bright red and scooped up the face-making intruder, taking him bodily back to the place where he was supposed to stay put. The metal walls were barely able to mute the soon-to-follow moaning from the trio enough to keep Tyler from hearing, but Lyta could still make them out clearly.
As she could hear Byron and his current lover right now. A few others were sharing, as well. Min was giving one of the new arrivals - Peter was his name - a 'proper' welcome. At least she thought it was Min, Peter was blissfully making too much noise for her to be sure. It might be Wendi. Lyta wished she could be among them, but she was needed to stay with the babies. And she'd never have the courage to actually DO that, anyway, not with anyone else within sight, earshot or mindshot. No matter how strongly Byron's partners might radiate total satisfaction and love afterwards.
There was another problem nagging her at the moment, however. *//Tyler . . . who's your daddy? Is Byron your daddy? Or is he just a nice man who talks to everyone and makes them feel better?//* She carefully asked, keeping shields around them to ensure privacy on their conversation. No-one noticed, the others just assumed it was because Sarah had followed up on the general good mood to invite herself into Byron's bed . . . and Lyta had taken Tyler to another room where he couldn't blow raspberries at the sight.
*//Byron Daddy/imagememory of birth/first sight of Byron as he caught Tyler/hearing him say/it's a boy, it's a strong baby boy. A son, my love, another son. Can you hear him too? Strong, like me/*Hello*/Byron is Tyler daddy always/all our daddy!//*
It hurt, knowing the man she was craving make love to other women. She shared in the echoes when she could, pretending to herself it was she who was getting all that attention. Tyler, as sweet as he was, couldn't do anything besides think *//daddy silly/Sarah dry no milk/daddy not want comfort/daddy want other touch/hear PrettyLady Sarah scream/BYRON!//* and Tyler giggled at the strangeness of the universe, then touched Lyta's hot red face and laugh more while he hugged her, amused at his mental parroting of a woman's scream of climax. *//PrettyLady Lyta hug?//*
Lyta hugged him tightly for a long, long time. // "all our daddy" . . . how many times has Byron gotten his followers pregnant? I know that one girl is Thomas's, the resemblance is unmistakable, and her mom doesn't have sex with Byron. At least as far as I know. James's boy is obviously not Byron's, the skin tone is too brown to be anyone else's. At least anyone else who is here. "all our daddy" . . . It can't be! But can it?// She closed her eyes and thought about the facial features and coloration of the children. Some she was sure of. Byron's hair color, eye color, the structure of the cheekbones - distorted from extreme youth, but there. Lyta felt a little nauseated.
*//Maybe when your daddy isn't busy I'll find a way to ask him, Tyler. Tyler?//*
He had dozed off, with her fingers still held between his salivating gums. Lyta realized how late it must be, almost everyone had fallen asleep. Josee had taken over when Sarah had finally relaxed and pulled away, but even so, Byron finally slept too. Between them. Lyta sighed, wishing again it could have been her.
//I'll get my turn - all I have to do is ask, Amiee said. Marie said it too. Maybe. . . it's not like I could ever face Zack again after I bit his face in two like that. I don't want anyone else . . . Why couldn't fate let them get along? I'd welcome them both if I could. Not that anything like THAT will ever happen. Why am I so lonely? Because if anyone ever finds out what the Vorlons did to me, to all those others I saw . . . It would drive them insane. They'd have me killed for being something I had no choice about.//
//I can't share with Byron. It would hurt us both. I just can't. So why do I still want to?// She wondered to herself when tucking Tyler under a blanket and wandering back to her own, empty quarters, going out of her way to avoid any and all members of security.
********
Three days later . . .
"Captain, are you sure? I realize you want to keep them under control, but this could endanger yourself! They've been downright hostile towards Mr. Garibaldi, and they could be dangerous. You've said more than once you don't like them, so putting your safety on the line-"
"Is not an issue, Corwin. I've already spoken with Miss Alexander, and she has - rather reluctantly - agreed to be there beside me. They won't hurt her, and she's not going to leave whichever room I'm in. My link will be with me. But after this -" she indicated the security report in her hand - "It's clear they should be closely supervised. Any rage must already be gone, or else there'd be a lot more dead bodies in downbelow. It's just the one night, make sure everyone is accounted for and such. I'll tell you this, though, I plan to take over the visits myself, daily. Make sure I can do all that I can to diffuse any situations before they get ugly. Assuming it WAS the teeps who did this. There's a good chance that some bigot got it into his head to do it, let the teeps take the fall. They haven't so much as bent the rules otherwise. Lyta says she hasn't been able to find out if the perps are members of the group. A P5 can't scan anyone who doesn't want to be scanned, anyway, and the fact she's Corps doesn't add to them liking her very much. But maybe I can be more convincing. I plan on having a long chat with Mr. Byron tonight. I should go now, they'll be letting him out soon, and I want to start this 'babysitting' before he leaves the detention center."
"The victim did say Byron tried to help, so I guess you'll be ok. But you realize I'm still going to worry, until you check in tomorrow morning."
"I expect nothing less, Corwin. Have a fun watch, I know ~I~ will." //I've been wanting an excuse to sleep with Byron for weeks! Months, even. This will do just fine . . . //
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