Chojin Patriarch
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You know, I was always under the impression that Vorlon Encounter Suits just sort of floated. It never occurred to me they might have limbs. And thus a way for a person to disguise themselves as one... Must have been the fancy drapery.21st April 2258
19:28 G.M.T.
I smile as people duck into side corridors rather than come too close to the 'vorlon' in front of me.
"I can barely see where I'm going."
"Just bear with it."
Just imagine how bad it was for the poor suit actors in the show... They didn't have telekinesis to assist.Because vorlon-style encounter suits aren't hard to make, and absolutely no one is going to stop a vorlon going wherever it wants. But nothing about being a non-telepathic telepath who's been working as a teacher really prepares you for carrying a big lump of armour plating on your shoulders and navigating by periscope.
Oh, goddammit, an interruption now?Alright, we're close, and-.
"Mister Underwood!"
We both stop, I turn, and-.
Especially if encounter suits are one-off pieces tailored to the wearer's preference, not off-the-rack rigs."Commander Sinclair." Mr. Ironheart rotates his periscope-head as best he can as I step towards the Commander to head him off. I created a variation on Ambassador Kosh's outfit for him, but I imagine that the commander has met more than a few vorlons and I don't really want him to get too close a look at my work. "What can I do for you?"
A plausible enough sounding name for a vorlon, I suppose. And suggesting he's a seeker of odd things is a good cover.He looks at Mr. Ironheart's mobile bird hide. "I hadn't realised there were any other vorlons on the station."
"Narvethk was curious about how a human managed to live two hundred years. He's planning on heading to minbar next."
...You did make sure he can talk, right?Fortunately, I know that the one vorlon on the station isn't exactly chatty, so hopefully the fact that he isn't talking won't seem that odd.
"Well… Mister Narvethk, I hope that you enjoy your stay on Babylon Five."
Right, close enough indeed.…
"Yes."
I think that probably sounded vorlon enough. Glad I put the voice changer in there.
Ah, the perils of being notable enough to get the station commander's personal attention."Mister Underwood, I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk."
"Ah. Now?"
Oh, he has many questions, no doubt...Commander Sinclair nods, smiling the most sincere fake smile I've seen today. "If it's not too much trouble."
Ah… I turn back to Mr. Ironheart. "Are you going to be alright finding your way to Ambassador Delenn's quarters?"
I would assume her name is on the address plate or doorbell or whatever they have...Mr. Ironheart points the periscope head my way and pointedly narrows the aperture.
I raise my right arm and point down the corridor. "That way to the end, then turn right. It's the second door."
Probably not as graceful a glide as the real thing.The periscope turns back around, and he starts slowly walking in the direction I indicated.
Ah… I'll catch up with him in a moment. "So what do you want to talk about, Commander?"
Nothing about the mysterious little building project, but I'm sure that's still something of a curiosity for non-Minbari.He smiles invitingly. "How was Minbar?"
"Ah, a bit overwhelming, honestly." I shake my head. "I'd have been lost without Mayan. The food wasn't as weird as I thought it would be… The people staring at me and wondering why I was there was… Off-putting, though Mayan's getting it much worse on Earth."
It was very naive of her, and she's learning quite a bit about human responses to certain things.He nods, looking empathically concerned. "She can't have expected a warm reception."
I sigh. "I think she did, actually. I'm not sure I understand why. Minbari don't appear to expect to have any real input in how their government works, she was a religious caste poet and just… Doesn't see the War as something she had any involvement in. But goodness me some of the Home Guard people I've run into make me weep for the future of our species."
Not unless said stations were military border outposts, and that would defeat the purpose of building them as diplomatic assemblies."I've had a few run-ins with them myself. How popular are they back home?"
"I.. don't know. They can usually put a demonstration together wherever Mayan does a lecture, but they could just be bussing protestors around. I… Don't think the government would build five Babylon stations if there was a majority in favour of… Whatever it is they actually want. Spending that much money on something not related to defence after a major war couldn't have been popular anyway."
From what I understand, they could only really send micro-bursts of data through the wormhole gateways? Presumably that bandwidth is reserved for important data uploads, and casual Zoom meetings aren't in the cards. Any major content updates would be carried on courier ships?"I like to think we've proven our worth."
"Oh, getting representatives of different polities together regularly to prevent problems getting out of hand is clearly a good idea, it's just… I have to admit, I… I sort of assumed that by this point in history, this sort of negotiation would have been handled over some sort of… Space radio... Telepresence.. thing? Building a space station in the middle of nowhere seems… A lot of work for little extra return?"
I mean, diplomats who have become friends - or frenemies in the case of G'Kar and Londo - are probably more likely to try and push resolutions that benefit each other..."This isn't just about the council meetings. We also all put on events so that we can learn more about one another's cultures."
I shrug. "I suppose that building up a personal rapport between representatives could be helpful. I've only been here a year, there are probably plenty of things I'm missing."
I wonder if they tried looking up 'Matthew Underwood' in Earth databases and got nothing?"You really.. think you were in suspended animation for two hundred years?"
"No. No, that's clearly nonsense. I'd have noticed a cryogenic pod… Or whatever actually gets used for suspending animation… When I woke up, and there wasn't one. And also I was able to read my own obituary."
Pretty much average for a human of the time."Your family thought you were dead?"
"Oh no." I shake my head. "They had a body. I kept most of my hair, which I suppose is nice. Eighty-nine isn't too bad."
Just another impossible conundrum for Sinclair and Garibaldi to puzzle over.He frowns. "How did they have a body?"
"Cloning, parallel universe…" I throw up my arms in bewilderment. "I don't know. I don't think I'm him, because he died and I'm still alive, but I can't really explain… That."
Ah, that'll make them especially confused when Earthgov sources say they got nuthin'."That… Ah…"
"No, I wouldn't believe me either." I fabricate a data crystal in my pocket, pull it out and hand it to him. "Feel free to confirm it with Earth records. My life really doesn't make sense."
"I'll…" He takes the crystal. "I'll do that. And you don't have… Any idea? Was there some kind of laboratory on the planet you woke up on?"
The most blatant, but hard to reason why, possibility is that someone fabricated an entire human life from zero for him."No, not that I saw. And why would anyone clone me? I wasn't anyone important. And that wouldn't give me my old memories; I died long before telepaths started appearing on Earth. My memories could be fake, but they're too detailed. I've checked: writing things that I think are in a film or television program down before watching it, and then getting someone to check the list against what happened… They're accurate. It makes no damn sense, but here I am anyway."
And I suppose that might be reflected in whatever records Sinclair can get a hold of. PSI Corps would probably deflect any further inquiry, though."Did you get a genetic comparison done between yourself and your alter ego's remains?"
"What remains? I wasn't religious: I was cremated. And while I could track my sister's descendants down, after this many generations there wouldn't by much similarity between us. Ah." I smile, bowing my head for a moment. "But I doubt this is what you wanted to talk to me about. Is it about Miss Alexander? Because Psi Corps have been on at me about that."
Compassionate yet cruel at the same time. Not wasting a useful human resource, for one."Not unless you have anything you want to tell me." I shake my head. "Then it's more… Have you heard of 'death of personality'?"
I nod. "Yes, it's how you not-execute people here in the future."
"And what do you..? Think about it?"
I would expect PSI Corps don't want to tip their hand at just how effective their strongest readers actually are."I mean, it's… Nice that you use telepaths to double-check jury decisions. Though I don't see why you don't just use telepaths in the first place. Uh. And since you're erasing a person's personal memories, it's basically the same as execution, but then you've got to do a whole lot of extra work to find something to do with the resulting new person…" I shrug. "I don't really get it, but then I didn't live through the history which led people to decide it was a sensible thing to do."
Heh, that's a nice turn of phrase that fits so well into the setting."I was wondering if something like that might have happened to you."
"Uh. I don't think so. They-. People who've gone through that don't have any interest in their past life, whereas I do. I haven't found any records of anyone sharing my physical appearance, so I don't think anyone could have been turned into me. Have you..? Looked into it? Because I'd rather have a hard truth than an easy lie."
Now, to catch up with 'Narvethk'..."No, and I did send a request for any relevant information to the Ministry of Justice. Though that would only cover a death of personality carried out as part of a judicial process."
I nod. "And if someone else had gotten hold of the technology, they wouldn't have any information. Well. This is who I am now, so… I don't think I'll waste time chasing after the chance. Thank you for letting me know."
I suspect Sinclair is walking away from this little chat with more questions than he started with. The random Vorlon wandering around in Underwood's company, for one. And I'm sure they'll find out Underwood didn't come aboard from any ship today. Never mind the suspiciously convenient data-slug he provided them about his background...