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War Without End, Part Two, #2
John Sheridan walked slowly down the corridor of the White Star, lost in thought. The exact details of the time flashes he’d experienced were fading from his memory already, but the intense emotions were still there, and he suspected they would always be with him. Now that Babylon 4 and her crew were off to their rendezvous with the past, and he was firmly anchored in this time, he was finally free to reflect on recent events. They had been running so fast from task to task, that the enormity of what had happened was just beginning to sink in.
He paused in his wanderings and realized this was a corridor of the ship he had not yet explored. It seemed to be mainly locked storerooms, but there was one room that showed light through an open door. As he approached, he saw an arched doorway with flickering soft light spilling into the hallway. Looking inside, he saw a small carpeted room, longer that it was wide, with a long low table running down the center. There were flat cushions set on the floor, surrounding the table. The light was coming from candles on the table; there were dozens of them, some were lit, others not. It reminded him of votaries at the altar of a Catholic church. The only other source of light came from sconces, inset along the walls about halfway up at regular intervals, which shone golden discs of light upwards. The walls were metal, but had the peculiar sheen that he identified with Vorlon organic technology. As the candleflames played along the walls, he could see the rippling response of the living metal. He could almost visualize the words of the prayers that had been spoken in this place; coming in and out of focus, recorded and remembered by the ship itself.
At the end of the room, away from the lit candles on the table, and half-hidden in the shadows, sat the woman he had come to find. She was kneeling, her eyes closed in prayer or meditation, her hands flat on the table in front of her. Her dress pooled around her, making it look as if she was floating in green water. He approached quietly, but he had not come far into the room when her eyes fluttered open, and he saw her welcoming smile.
“What is this place?” he asked, as he sat beside her, tortourously crossing his long legs to fit in front of the table.
“It is a room for quiet contemplation and prayer. We hold meditation sessions for the Rangers. Some of your people hold worship ceremonies here; they refer to it as the chapel.”
“So,” he continued, “I’ve been looking for you. Am I interrupting? I can come back later…”
“No,” she said, a little apprehensively, “How can I be of service?”
“We need to talk.” He cleared his throat nervously. “I’m not very good at this, but I wanted to talk about what happened. What I saw, while I was gone.”
She looked down at her hands, and tightly folded them together in her lap, like a young child anticipating an unpleasant lecture. “What did you see?” she asked in a small voice.
He looked at her carefully, appraising her reaction, and went on, “I think I went into the future. A possible future. I don’t know if the events I saw will actually happen, of course. They’ll change, be affected by things we do. So it probably won’t happen, anyway, but I thought you ought to know...” His voice petered out, and he was beginning to regret even starting this conversation. When he’d started out to find her, it had seemed simple enough; give her a general outline of what he’d seen, so they could try to avoid the destruction on Centauri Prime. He still wasn’t sure if, or how, to describe all of what had happened. Trying to gather his thoughts, he wondered briefly what she would do if he took her in his arms. He couldn’t forget how natural she had felt in his embrace, how she had flown into his arms like it was the first and last place she had ever wanted to be.
“I saw something, too.”
Her voice was soft, and shaky. “What did you say?” he managed to ask.
“When the station was unstable, there was a time slip. And…I saw something.”
He didn’t think he ever heard that note of uncertainty in her voice. “What did you see?”
“I saw you, in your quarters on the station. I was there, and also…I think…”
The hesitation and fear in her tone decided him. “We don’t need to talk about this right now.” She started to protest, but he overrode her objections, “No, I’ve decided. We’ve both been put through the wringer, and we’ll talk about it later. There’ll be plenty of time.” He carefully put one arm around her, and she responded by moving even closer, and resting her head on his shoulder. He struggled to put aside his feelings, the connection he had felt with someone who didn’t yet exist. Words echoed through his mind…Our son is safe. I love you. As long as you are with me. I love you. One last moment together. Overcome with conflicting emotions, he impulsively leaned over and roughly kissed her. He didn’t know how she would react; he just knew he needed her to know how he felt right now. She responded as if she had been waiting for him all along. No further words were exchanged, but the walls of the room were suddenly covered with glowing script. “Time, love, eternity” were repeated over and over, in both their languages; written on the walls in interwoven golden chains of light.