my terms in around 10 years. By your reckoning, considerably longer."
"Who are you?" Garibaldi asked.
The man held out his hand. "My name is Kevin Vacit." Garibaldi took the offered grip, tentatively. It felt like wire.
"That's impossible!" Lyta sputtered.
Vacit turned on her. "And you are most certainly an Alexander. How true runs that blood." He smiled, tightly, as if it hurt his face.
"You two know each other?"
Lyta's eyes were somehow both dubious and as wide as a child's. "He was the Director of Psi Corps," she said. "I mean, in the last century. My grandmother worked with him."
"And her mother, and hers," Vacit said. "All the way back to the beginning. The Alexander's were among the first."
Lyta nodded, studying his face. "You look like him. My mother had a picture from her mother. She said you just vanished one day. Everyone thought you had been murdered, but the body was never found."
"Well, now you've found it," Vacit said. He shivered. "I find the cold unsettling, even through my insulated clothing. Won't you join me in my house? I assure you, I'm happy to answer your questions, and I am no danger to you at all."
"Hold on," Garibaldi said, feeling the situation somehow getting away from him. "This family reunion is awfully keen, but how's about answering at least one question before we enter your parlor?"
"Of course," said Vacit.
"What happened to the Psi Corps shuttle?"
A brief wince that might have signified regret folded Vacit's forehead. "This place was where the Vorlons had their chief experimental station. All of it was destroyed, I thought, with the exception of the reactor, which is deep underground. I was wrong - there were still some surface-to-air defenses. They took me - and the shuttle - by surprise. I managed