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no response. "Lyta?" he called again.

He and Delenn exchanged looks. If there was no response, there were several possibilities. The first was that Lyta had gone off to join the hordes of crazed lunatics who were rampaging through Babylon 5. The second was that she had been injured or worse by those same lunatics. And a third was that she was in her quarters, but afraid to respond for fear that Sheridan and Delenn had been ... "taken over," or whatever the hell it was that had happened to an unknown percentage of Babylon 5's populace.

But then the situation appeared to resolve itself as the door opened ... but only a bit, less than a foot. Yet another result of the power outages and systems problems that were proliferating through the station. It was enough room for Sheridan, though, as he wedged himself into the space and forced the door open sufficiently for Delenn and him to pass through.

Lyta's quarters were even darker than the corridor, and Sheridan-were he feeling imaginative at the moment-would have fancied that he had entered the dark side of the Human mind. But the main thing occupying Sheridan was trying to resolve what was going on with his station.

There was a thin sliver of light filtering down from overhead. Sheridan waited for his eyes to adjust, but he had a feeling that he could stand there until the crack of doom and still not be able to make out a damned thing with any clarity.

"Lyta? Are you here?" called Delenn.

A voice responded. It sounded like Lyta's ... but different. There was a vibrato to it, and Sheridan insanely thought that he heard something like the tinkling of bells. "We tried to stop it," the voice said. "Tried to warn you. We failed. And now it's too late. The door is opening."

Something seemed to move off to one side,
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