men on the field gets the ball there ahead of him."
"And if he accomplishes this ... what happens?" Lione didn't seem to be quite as intrigued as he had been when he had thought the object was to concuss the man with the stick.
"If he doesn't make it, he's out."
"Of the game?"
"Oh, no, no he can try later when it's his turn again. But if he does make it to the base, then he has a chance to try and get to another base."
"That seems rather pointless. Why doesn't he just stay on the one he's on?"
"Because if he gets to a second base, then he gets to try for..."
"A third base?" Lione's interest was definitely flagging. "Is there a point to all this somewhere?"
"Oh, yes! After he gets to the third base, he gets to to go home."
"Home? You mean he leaves the game?"
"No, it's called home base. If he gets to home base, then his team scores a run. And they do this back and forth, getting runs or outs, until there's three outs from each side, and that's called an `inning.' And the game goes until nine innings, unless it's tied in which case it can go on forever, or it rains or everyone just gets sick of it."
Castig Lione stared at Vir, then asked, "And this is a popular game on Earth?"
"Humans love it," said Vir.
And Throk said dourly, "No wonder the Minbari tried to wipe them out."
7
"Vir! Viiir!" Londo's greeting of him was big and boisterous and not at all what Vir had expected. Then again, there was a large party going on, and in that sort of environment Londo was most definitely in his element. It was all quite exciting for Vir. Certainly he had attended enough parties, particularly in Londo's presence. The Londo of old was something of a magnet for such festivities. Many were the revelries that he was able to recall on Babylon 5, although admittedly his memory of some of them was recalled through a bit of a haze. A pleasant haze, but a haze nonetheless.
But this ... this was a party in the court! For all that Vir had been through – for all of the secret plots, and his own hideous involvement in such dire schemes as assassinations – he had never truly left behind the relatively innocent individual that he once had been. And that individual was the fool of the Cotto clan, the embarrassment, the one who was never going to amount to anything. When he had been shunted away to Babylon 5, to serve as aide to the equally despised Londo Mollari, it had simply been the latest insult in a life laden with insults. To be part of the court, to rub elbows with the movers and shakers of Centauri rank and society ... inwardly he still felt a sort of disbelief over how everything had turned out. This was not how it was supposed to go for Vir Cotto. He was supposed to eke out an existence, and try not to get into anyone's way. That had been the entirety of his aspirations. So to be arriving in court, to be able to hold his head high ... he still felt as if he had to pinch himself to make certain that he wasn't dreaming it all. That was how he felt, even though he knew that the dream had its dark, nightmarish side. Yes, he knew that all too well.
The grand reception hall was alive with activity. There was song and dance and merriment. A scantily clad dancing girl bumped up against Vir and smiled ... at him ... in a most sultry manner before pirouetting of thin veils trailing from her hands. Waiters bearing an assortment of gourmet tidbits converged on him from all sides, almost stumbling over one another to serve him. People were dressed in the most glorious finery, chatting and laughing and acting as if they had not a care in the world.
"Vir!" Londo shouted once more and began to make his way through the crowd. When one is the emperor, such an action is far less taxing than it would be for others. The crowd magically melted before him to make way, closing itself behind him as he passed. It gave him the appearance of being a great ship moving through the ocean. The ship of state, Vir told himself. Londo was holding a drink. He
"And if he accomplishes this ... what happens?" Lione didn't seem to be quite as intrigued as he had been when he had thought the object was to concuss the man with the stick.
"If he doesn't make it, he's out."
"Of the game?"
"Oh, no, no he can try later when it's his turn again. But if he does make it to the base, then he has a chance to try and get to another base."
"That seems rather pointless. Why doesn't he just stay on the one he's on?"
"Because if he gets to a second base, then he gets to try for..."
"A third base?" Lione's interest was definitely flagging. "Is there a point to all this somewhere?"
"Oh, yes! After he gets to the third base, he gets to to go home."
"Home? You mean he leaves the game?"
"No, it's called home base. If he gets to home base, then his team scores a run. And they do this back and forth, getting runs or outs, until there's three outs from each side, and that's called an `inning.' And the game goes until nine innings, unless it's tied in which case it can go on forever, or it rains or everyone just gets sick of it."
Castig Lione stared at Vir, then asked, "And this is a popular game on Earth?"
"Humans love it," said Vir.
And Throk said dourly, "No wonder the Minbari tried to wipe them out."
7
"Vir! Viiir!" Londo's greeting of him was big and boisterous and not at all what Vir had expected. Then again, there was a large party going on, and in that sort of environment Londo was most definitely in his element. It was all quite exciting for Vir. Certainly he had attended enough parties, particularly in Londo's presence. The Londo of old was something of a magnet for such festivities. Many were the revelries that he was able to recall on Babylon 5, although admittedly his memory of some of them was recalled through a bit of a haze. A pleasant haze, but a haze nonetheless.
But this ... this was a party in the court! For all that Vir had been through – for all of the secret plots, and his own hideous involvement in such dire schemes as assassinations – he had never truly left behind the relatively innocent individual that he once had been. And that individual was the fool of the Cotto clan, the embarrassment, the one who was never going to amount to anything. When he had been shunted away to Babylon 5, to serve as aide to the equally despised Londo Mollari, it had simply been the latest insult in a life laden with insults. To be part of the court, to rub elbows with the movers and shakers of Centauri rank and society ... inwardly he still felt a sort of disbelief over how everything had turned out. This was not how it was supposed to go for Vir Cotto. He was supposed to eke out an existence, and try not to get into anyone's way. That had been the entirety of his aspirations. So to be arriving in court, to be able to hold his head high ... he still felt as if he had to pinch himself to make certain that he wasn't dreaming it all. That was how he felt, even though he knew that the dream had its dark, nightmarish side. Yes, he knew that all too well.
The grand reception hall was alive with activity. There was song and dance and merriment. A scantily clad dancing girl bumped up against Vir and smiled ... at him ... in a most sultry manner before pirouetting of thin veils trailing from her hands. Waiters bearing an assortment of gourmet tidbits converged on him from all sides, almost stumbling over one another to serve him. People were dressed in the most glorious finery, chatting and laughing and acting as if they had not a care in the world.
"Vir!" Londo shouted once more and began to make his way through the crowd. When one is the emperor, such an action is far less taxing than it would be for others. The crowd magically melted before him to make way, closing itself behind him as he passed. It gave him the appearance of being a great ship moving through the ocean. The ship of state, Vir told himself. Londo was holding a drink. He
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