passed one nobleman and, without hesitation, plucked the drink from the man's hand and bore it toward Vir. It took a moment for it to register on the nobleman, but when he realized who it was who had absconded with his drink, he simply gestured toward one of the wandering waiters and signaled that another would be required. "Vir! I must tell you a riddle!" Londo said as he thrust the glass into Vir's hand.
Several things were tumbling about in Vir's head: to thank Londo for the drink; to tell him he didn't need it; to tell Londo that he, Londo, was looking quite well; to tell him that he was pleased that he had been invited to this get-together. All of this occurred to him, but was promptly washed away by the unexpected declaration.
"A ... riddle?"
"Yes! Yes, it is quite clever. Senna told it to me. Clever girl, our young lady."
"Yes, you've told me about her. Tragic thing, the loss of her teach–"
"Do you want to hear this riddle or not?" Londo demanded.
"Oh ... absolutely, yes." Vir bobbed his head. Londo draped an arm around Vir's shoulders, bringing his face closer. The smell of alcohol was even more pungent than usual.
"What is greater than the Great Maker more frightening than a Shadow ship ... the poor have it ... the rich need it ... and if you eat it, you die."
Vir silently mouthed the elements of the riddle, then shook his head.
"I give up."
"You give up!" Londo sounded almost outraged. "You give up? That is your problem, Vir. That has always been your problem. You give up, far too quickly. You have to give things thought, Vir. Even if you do not succeed, you have to at least try!"
"All ... all right. Let me think. Greater than the Great Ma–" His thought process was promptly interrupted when a voice from at his elbow said,
"Ambassador. What a pleasure it is to see you." Vir turned and saw Durla standing there. He had seen the man before in passing, but not since Durla had been promoted to the ministry. Durla had never really registered on Vir, back when he was captain of the guards. But now that he was seeing him, really seeing him for the first time, he sensed that this was a man to watch out for.
"And I, you, Minister," Vir replied easily.
"How nice that you were able to get away from Babylon 5 to attend this little celebration. I'm sure you've been very busy there."
Vir watched Londo's gaze flicker from Durla to Vir and back. He seemed curiously content to watch the two of them converse. It was as if Londo had something very specific he wanted to see accomplished, but Vir could not for the life of him imagine what that might be. The last thing that Vir was interested in doing was getting into some sort of verbal sparring match with with Durla just because it might suit Londo's purposes, whatever those might be. Nevertheless, there was something in Durla's tone and attitude that Vir couldn't help but consider off-putting. It wasn't in the words so much, but in the condescending voice attached to it.
"Oh, yes ... yes, I've been very busy," Vir said.
"I'm sure. Although," Durla continued, "the true future of the Centauri Republic would lay, I think, with what is developing on Centauri Prime, rather than on a hunk of metal light-years away. A place that is the base of operations for an Alliance that is dedicated to wiping the Centauri off the face of creation, eh?"
"Minister," Vir said carefully, "with all respect, if the Interstellar Alliance were `dedicated' to it, I doubt we'd be all standing here right now, in an intact palace, enjoying this quite wonderful wine. Excuse me!" he called to a passing waiter, indicating with a gesture that he could use a refill. Vir normally wasn't a drinker, but in recent years he had driven his tolerance level up, just through practice. A lengthy association with Londo Mollari tended to do that. As the waiter scurried off to fulfill Vir's request, he added, "Keep in mind, Minister, that I'm posted on Babylon 5. I've known the president of the Alliance for a
Several things were tumbling about in Vir's head: to thank Londo for the drink; to tell him he didn't need it; to tell Londo that he, Londo, was looking quite well; to tell him that he was pleased that he had been invited to this get-together. All of this occurred to him, but was promptly washed away by the unexpected declaration.
"A ... riddle?"
"Yes! Yes, it is quite clever. Senna told it to me. Clever girl, our young lady."
"Yes, you've told me about her. Tragic thing, the loss of her teach–"
"Do you want to hear this riddle or not?" Londo demanded.
"Oh ... absolutely, yes." Vir bobbed his head. Londo draped an arm around Vir's shoulders, bringing his face closer. The smell of alcohol was even more pungent than usual.
"What is greater than the Great Maker more frightening than a Shadow ship ... the poor have it ... the rich need it ... and if you eat it, you die."
Vir silently mouthed the elements of the riddle, then shook his head.
"I give up."
"You give up!" Londo sounded almost outraged. "You give up? That is your problem, Vir. That has always been your problem. You give up, far too quickly. You have to give things thought, Vir. Even if you do not succeed, you have to at least try!"
"All ... all right. Let me think. Greater than the Great Ma–" His thought process was promptly interrupted when a voice from at his elbow said,
"Ambassador. What a pleasure it is to see you." Vir turned and saw Durla standing there. He had seen the man before in passing, but not since Durla had been promoted to the ministry. Durla had never really registered on Vir, back when he was captain of the guards. But now that he was seeing him, really seeing him for the first time, he sensed that this was a man to watch out for.
"And I, you, Minister," Vir replied easily.
"How nice that you were able to get away from Babylon 5 to attend this little celebration. I'm sure you've been very busy there."
Vir watched Londo's gaze flicker from Durla to Vir and back. He seemed curiously content to watch the two of them converse. It was as if Londo had something very specific he wanted to see accomplished, but Vir could not for the life of him imagine what that might be. The last thing that Vir was interested in doing was getting into some sort of verbal sparring match with with Durla just because it might suit Londo's purposes, whatever those might be. Nevertheless, there was something in Durla's tone and attitude that Vir couldn't help but consider off-putting. It wasn't in the words so much, but in the condescending voice attached to it.
"Oh, yes ... yes, I've been very busy," Vir said.
"I'm sure. Although," Durla continued, "the true future of the Centauri Republic would lay, I think, with what is developing on Centauri Prime, rather than on a hunk of metal light-years away. A place that is the base of operations for an Alliance that is dedicated to wiping the Centauri off the face of creation, eh?"
"Minister," Vir said carefully, "with all respect, if the Interstellar Alliance were `dedicated' to it, I doubt we'd be all standing here right now, in an intact palace, enjoying this quite wonderful wine. Excuse me!" he called to a passing waiter, indicating with a gesture that he could use a refill. Vir normally wasn't a drinker, but in recent years he had driven his tolerance level up, just through practice. A lengthy association with Londo Mollari tended to do that. As the waiter scurried off to fulfill Vir's request, he added, "Keep in mind, Minister, that I'm posted on Babylon 5. I've known the president of the Alliance for a
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