Part One: Decision

Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.

Title taken from Rudyard Kipling's Barracks Room Ballad 'The Ladies'

...When you get to a man in the case,
They're like as a row of pins -
For the Colonel's Lady an' Judy O'Grady

Are sisters under their skins!

Delenn had directed the computer to save John's farewell message, the one he had set on time delay so that she had no chance to try and forestall his fated journey to Z'ha'dum. A growing shadow in her mind whispered to her, reminding her...they might be the last words she would ever hear him speak.

The night had been long and difficult. Meditation proved impossible. Her mind careened back and forth from from one tragic possibility to another. John was gone, that was the barren truth of it, and there was nothing she could do but await events. The past is sometimes also future, she had once told Lennier. Now all she could see was heart-break, past or future. Lennier had contacted her that morning, reminding her of various tasks and duties for the day. She had been unkind, cutting him off with a brusque directive. "Cancel them. Cancel them all." Today she was unavailable to all those who leaned on her and turned to her. Today she needed time to herself. Today she needed to be alone.

Untouched tea lay cooling in her cup when the com sounded again. "Yes?" she answered automatically, numbly wondering how angry she would have to sound to prevent Lennier from interrupting her solitude. She'd turned off the visual on the monitor, afraid that she would see John's face there if she looked at it again.

The mellow baritone voice came right to the point. "Delenn, it's Stephen Franklin. Could you stop by MedLab later today?" The doctor's voice became unusually hesitant. "I could use some advice, and I really have no idea who else to ask."

Delenn thought for a moment, remembering the doctor's kindness and discretion after her transformation. It was a debt, one that deserved repayment. "I will come," she said, glancing down at the sleeping robe she was somehow still wearing at this advanced hour of the morning. "In half an hour?" she requested politely, and then added, "May I ask what this is about?"

The unit was silent for a long moment. Then, the doctor's voice came again, more certain this time. "It's Anna Sheridan," he said. "She's collapsed."

MedLab was abnormally quiet. Most of the remaining patients had been shuttled down to the planet with medical staff to attend them. The facilities on-station were being kept for urgent cases, minor problems, and triage of incoming refugees. When the inevitable battle arrived, they would need all the space they could muster. Stephen was standing in blue woven scrubs, arms crossed, staring into a glass-walled cubicle. A woman lay on the bed inside, hooked to sensors and looking fragile in the harsh white light. Delenn approached Stephen and looked inside at Captain Sheridan's wife; her rival, or perhaps her victim. She had no frame of reference for this situation. But Delenn could harbor no animus towards the woman lying pale and silent in the hospital bed. "What is wrong with her?" she asked Stephen, then added, to her own surprise, "What may I do to help?"

Stephen nodded at her offer with satisfaction, but admitted, "I'm not completely sure. The Captain left me a message to look after her, but when I got to his cabin, she was unconscious on the floor, bruised from what looks like a fall. She's had two seizures since we got her here; it's possible that a previous one caused the fall. There are some anomalies on her brain scan. I have some thoughts, but I could use some assistance. Could you find Lyta Alexander for me?"

Delenn looked at him, eyes wide and confused, and said, "Certainly, but why is she needed?"

Stephen shook his head. "I'd rather tell all of you together. Ivanova will be here in an hour. If you could meet me back here, with Lyta, I'll go over my plan then." He looked back into the cubicle. Under his breath, he added, "And it had better work. I'm running out of ideas."

One hour later, Delenn and Lyta approached MedLab, and from outside they could hear Susan Ivanova arguing with Stephen Franklin. "I have approximately one hundred things that need done yesterday. I can't stand around here waiting for you to spring whatever surprise you've got planned!"

Delenn entered at that moment with Lyta right behind her. The telepath's eyes were bruised and her face was white with fatigue. She looked as if she had spent more than a few sleepless nights. Delenn glanced from Lyta to Susan, and over to Stephen. They all shared the same expression; a mix of exhaustion, nervous tension, and incipient grief.

"Ms. Alexander has agreed to hear your suggestion, Doctor," she said, nodding in greeting to Stephen. "Commander," she acknowledged Susan's presence formally with a slight bow.

Stephen cleared his throat and looked away from the three women, momentarily at a loss for words. Then he pulled around a computer monitor and tapped a few keys. A brain scan came up on the screen. "I really shouldn't be sharing medical information of this type with anyone but the next of kin but..." His voice held a rough edge of sadness.

Susan interjected a note of steel. "Since that's not possible now, proceed, Doctor."

Stephen pointed to the scan, showing the three women the scars at the base of Anna's skull, and the matching shadows on the skulls of the telepaths they had rescued earlier. "There's been some interference with her brain, as I told you before, Commander." Then he tapped the keys again, and a new scan came up. He moved it next to the original one he'd indicated was Anna's. "This is a new scan I ran today, to see if I could pinpoint the source of the seizures. Here," he showed them. "Do you see the difference? There's something growing out of those scars. It resembles the implants in the telepath's brains, but it's nowhere near as extensive." He pointed to a network of what looked like fine wires exiting the base of the skull and just edging into the basal ganglia. "It's like the process is just beginning. Like it was triggered by something, or someone. It certainly wasn't there before!"

Susan reacted with instant alarm. "Is she trying to connect to the computers, access the station controls? She could be operating as a Trojan horse!"

Delenn broke in, "I do not think so, Susan. John...the Captain indicated that Anna wanted him to come back with her to Z'ha'dum. If she was here to do damage to the station, why issue the invitation?"

"Perhaps it was a secondary mission," Susan mused. "A back-up plan if John wouldn't go back with her." Her voice became bleak. "Of course he would go. You would think she of all people" and she gestured contemptuously at Anna, "would know that."

Stephen interrupted her. "That wasn't...isn't...the real Anna Sheridan. He added quickly, "And she's shown no tendency to latch onto equipment like the others do whenever they get near any. I tested that. Carefully!" he added at a stern look from Susan. "We're keeping her isolated for safety though, using hand-held scanners only. The data from those is downloaded wirelessly to the central medical network for analysis. I have some remote monitors for vital signs, but those are kept separated from the main systems as well." He added in frustration. "I can't do that with the telepaths in cryo. I need the computers to monitor the thawing procedure. Those poor souls can't be isolated from the main computers, not here on the station at least."

Susan looked at him, eyes hard and lips narrowed with suspicion. "So what do you think they did to Ms. Sheridan? Was she plugged into one of their ships or was she just prepped for it? Perhaps the connections were put in, and then yanked out? Are they growing back? Why do you think there is any of her left in there?"

Stephen shook his head. "I don't know. I've been studying the implants on the telepaths, but these are like nothing I've ever seen before." Slipping into a more comfortable instructional mode, Stephen went on. "Memory and personality are distributive functions of the physical brain. This is one area of the brain where memory is stored, the first place most people think of." He indicated the frontal lobes with a forefinger, "But memories are scattered. Personality is the result of the pattern of access to memory, how often the memories are accessed and in what order; the sum of those patterns is what forms a neural signature, the distinct mental footprint that we call a person's mind." Confident now, he continued. "In this case there is evidence of an overlaid personality matrix, probably one put there by the Shadows in order for her to be able to function as Anna Sheridan.

Lyta said, "How did they put in a personality that had Anna Sheridan's memories? Were they programmed into the matrix?"

Stephen answered, "I don't think so. I think her own personality may still exist, that it wasn't disrupted completely by the Shadows' intervention. Anna's memories would have been blocked rather than destroyed to allow the implant access to them. And some of the patterns would have to be available if the implant meant to convince the Captain this was his wife."

"Blocks that strong would show in her actions and attitudes. People would notice," replied Lyta. Then she added, "I suppose it wouldn't matter as long as she passed for a while. She wasn't meant to be here for very long." She paused at Delenn's sudden intake of breath.

Stephen coughed slightly, and went on, "In the telepaths there are varying degrees of infiltration and damage throughout the frontal lobes. In some of them, normal tissue was almost completely destroyed. But not here." He glanced at Lyta, who had returned to staring at the brain scans. "Then he looked over at Anna, who was still lying motionless. "The seizures are what's causing the most damage right now. I think they may be a reaction to the growing implants. None of the normal anti-seizure meds I've tried are helping."

Lyta looked up from the screen. "You can see all that in those smudges and shadows?" She shook her head, "It's all so different when you're looking from the inside."

Delenn was staring at Stephen in dismay, and she noticed Lyta staring also, but more in incomprehension. Susan's expression was merely stony and cold.

Lyta directed another question to Stephen, asking, "What are you suggesting exactly? And why did you ask to see me?"

Stephen sighed, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. "If we download the intact portion of Anna's long-term memories, along with what we can of the patterns, and then map it onto a wetware network frame, we can essentially make a copy of her mind. It's new technology, but extremely promising. Using the judicial mind-wipe system, we then remove the implanted personality. Modern systems merely block off the old memories, disrupt the old patterns and replace then with new, conditioned patterns that are more societally acceptable."

Lyta nodded in assent. "I've done monitoring for the judicial system. PsiCorps sometimes does pro bono work for the government in return for certain...privileges. Old style mind wipes were brutal, they left people totally incapacitated. Even with the personality add-ons, the subjects were never quite right afterward."

Stephen hastened to interject, "The blocks are much more refined technology. But in this case, for safety, we'll want to remove the implanted patterns rather than block them. But we need to protect her real memories and the underlying patterns, hence the downloading. After the download and wipe, I'll try to take out the budding Shadow hardware, and after that we'll upload the stored memories. They will map onto the older patterns if they're still there or make new ones if they're not, although those will be unintegrated and possibly incomplete. Of course we know how to upload a standard artificial personality, it's part of the judicial technique. This would just be more elaborate."

Delenn stared at him, shocked to her core. Beyond the risk lay the twin horror of both copying and destroying the essence of a person; of moving and removing what made someone themselves. "I cannot believe you are suggesting this. Is there no other way?" Lyta merely shook her head in amazed disbelief.

Stephen replied swiftly in defense, "I've been working on the telepaths we brought back, trying out various treatments, but nothing has worked! This could be a real break-through. Their implants might be able to be removed while their personality is safely stored on a neural net. Assuming the damage isn't too great we could restore their long-term memories and their essential selves. We could save them!"

Susan shook her head emphatically. "No, Stephen. This is gross experimentation; you would be using the woman without her permission or that of her family! How can you even consider such a thing? Freeze her down if you are worried she is getting worse. This is no time for doing research of this sort."

Stephen argued back forcibly, "It's not just research, but people's lives! I've been trying every damned thing I can think of for months now to help the telepaths we found. I had Captain Sheridan's approval, and I also had the permission of Mr. Bester. And the telepaths we've been able to communicate with want desperately want released from the hell they're in now." He held up one hand as Susan's eyes flashed, "I know what you think of Bester, but he is arguably a true advocate for those people." Looking at the woman laying still on the other side of the glass, he added, "Anna Sheridan doesn't have anyone but her husband. But I thought maybe Lyta could reach her, make her understand what's happened to her. See if she's even still in there." His face hardened. "If that doesn't work, I'll need your opinion." Here he pointed first to Susan, then to Delenn. "You're the ones who are closest to the Captain. He's her next of kin. What would he say?"

Susan expostulated, "How in the hell should I know!" She started to speak again, but her comlink chimed an urgent signal. Slapping it silent, she said in a tight voice, "I have got to get back to work, Stephen. Here's my personal opinion. Don't do anything. If she deteriorates further, put her in cryo and work it out later. We are still in the middle of a goddamn war, in case you've forgotten!" With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, back ramrod-straight.

Stephen looked at Delenn, who answered slowly, "I cannot speak to this, Doctor. It is not my place." In a thin voice she added, "I believe I have what you would call a conflict of interest. Besides, it is not as if my decisions of late have been good ones." She looked at Lyta and questioned, "Could you wake her, talk to her perhaps? Find out what she would want?"

"I think so," said Lyta with a practical air. "It might not work, but it shouldn't make anything worse."

Lyta was wrong. It made things much worse. Anna's unconscious condition made the telepath's entrance simple at first. Lyta had slid quietly into the woman's mind, carefully avoiding the areas that were Shadow-touched. To her view they were dark, black and oily, like damp strands of hair that clung briefly to her as she passed. Once she moved past them, she entered a stone archway etched with strange symbols that reeked of protection. On the other side a green glow met her inner eye as she walked steadily towards the source of the light.

Tall grass parted at her knees and sunshine warmed Lyta's shoulders as she walked towards a sparkling river. A punt was tied to the side of a floating dock. Lyta walked over and looked into the boat but it was empty. A low throaty laugh sounded behind her, and she turned to look into Anna Sheridan's golden brown eyes. Anna gestured towards the boat, and said, "It was just a little too Lady of Shalott for me." Lyta turned back and the dock was now a long wooden pier, wood greyed with age, sticking far out into the gurgling water. Anna walked past her, out to the end of the pier, and sat down. Her feet were bare, and she dangled them over the edge, dipping her toes into the swiftly flowing stream. Lyta joined her, sitting cross-legged on the sun-warmed wood, enjoying the warm breeze on her face. It lifted her hair, and she pushed it from her eyes, focusing on the other Anna's face. "Mrs. Sheridan," she began.

"Oh, call me Anna," replied the other woman. "We've just met, but we couldn't be much closer, could we?" She stared at Lyta frankly. "This is quite an awkward situation, isn't it?"

"How much do you know of what's happened to you?" asked Lyta.

Anna shook her head. "I've only gotten fragments, flashes, since the Icarus landed on that godforsaken world." Her forehead wrinkled in thought. "There were...things...terrible things...living there." Her voice fell to a whisper. "I remember death. I remember pain."

Lyta didn't know how much to say, or what to say. Frankly, she hadn't known what to expert. She'd entered unconscious minds a few times before, but they were generally lost in a dream-world, speaking only in symbols. Then again, maybe that wasn't so far from the truth here. "You've been injured," she said forthrightly. "The doctor is worried about your situation and wants to try an experimental treatment. Without it, he'll have to put you into cryogenic sleep." Lyta hesitated. "There's some ongoing deterioration, and a chance it may get worse. You've had several seizures; the doctor can't stop them. He wants to know what you want to do."

Anna leaned over the side of the dock and dipped her fingers into the flowing water. "I want to live." Abruptly she flicked cold water into Lyta's face, then apologized. "Sorry. Don't know why I did that." Serious now, she asked, "Why didn't the doctor ask John? He knows what I'd want."

"Captain Sheridan," Lyta began, her throat tightening. "Captain Sheridan isn't around right now."

"Oh," said Anna. "Off on a mission, I suppose." She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. If it's that serious, tell the doctor to do his best." She looked up the river, where dark water was threading its way down the center of the stream. "I'm not sure I have much time," she added. "Tell him to hurry."

Lyta felt a shudder shake the pier, and the wooden structure crumbled beneath them. Lyta found herself on the shore, standing next to Anna who was staring in fear at the trees that suddenly stood next to them. The shadows behind the tall whispering pines were deep and black. They seemed to be moving, shifting and changing shape. The ground shook again, and Anna screamed.

Lyta felt the shaking jolt her whole body, but this time her eyes opened to see Delenn holding her shoulders. "Lyta!" She heard her name but it seemed to be coming from far away. She wanted to shut her eyes, avoid the shadows that lurked behind them, but there was something she needed to do, a message...her head snapped upright as she felt the remaining threads of contact with Anna Sheridan break.

"I'm okay," she managed to say. Delenn nodded, keeping one hand in a tight grip on her shoulder. "What's happening?" Lyta said as she looked around for Dr. Franklin. "How's Anna?"

"Mrs. Sheridan is experiencing another seizure, and the doctor is attempting to treat her." Delenn's voice sounded worried, almost on the edge of panic. "He says she is getting worse, that the Shadow's area of involvement seems to be growing. Perhaps it would be best to put her into the cold sleep with the others."

Lyta shook her head. "I don't think so. I think she's just barely holding on. It's not the same as the telepaths; she's sequestered, isolated in one area of her mind. I think I triggered some response when I made contact. I think they're coming for her." When Stephen came out, snapping his gloves off and pushing back his sweat-stained head-covering, Lyta stood in front of him and said urgently. "She wants you to try, Doctor. She wants you to save her."