Invoking Darkness (4 page)

Galen held himself still and continued his exercise, trying to think of nothing else, to be nothing else. Elric's words, though, would not be ignored.

"Do you remember what I have taught you? Most intelligent beings prefer to live in certainty than uncertainty. Rather than accept uncertainty they will discount the input of their own senses. It is through this mechanism that mages manipulate the perceptions of others.

"You have chosen certainty over uncertainty declaring yourself a monster. Certainty brings order, which you have always desired. But life, as you have discovered, is not always orderly.

"The mages have also made this error, by including in the Code knowledge, rather than learning. Knowledge stresses certainty. Yes, we must know all that can be known. But what cannot be known should not be ignored. For it is in uncertainty and in the unknown, that learning, creativity and growth occur. Or as Blaylock would call it, transcendence.

"In your certainty of who and what you are, you ignore much of the evidence before you. You focus on a single piece of yourself, and neglect or bury the rest. You expend all your energy on maintaining control, on containing the monster."

He could remain still no longer.

"And you would prefer I lose control?"

"No," Elric said. "But I would prefer that you lived." Galen released a breath.

33,554,457.

"Is that all?"

Elric hesitated.

"On that topic, yes."

His lips hung open, revealing an unusual reluctance.

"I wish that you could stay a few minutes longer."

"I think we have spoken long enough."

"I know that we cannot rebuild our old relationship. I was only hoping that we might talk of simple things, of home."

"The past is dead to me."

Elric's lips formed a thin, grim line.

"Clearly, it is not. For if it were, you would have forgiven me, and yourself."

Galen kept emotion from his voice.

"How can I forgive myself for what I have done? How can you forgive me?"

"I have forgiven you because you were not wholly to blame, and because you have repented."

Elric reached out, and his quivering hand touched Galen's arm. Galen jerked away, the tech quickening. He did not deserve forgiveness. He did not deserve even this torturous limbo of the hiding place.

67,108,890.

Galen crossed his arms over his chest and walked quickly away. He would not allow himself to become agitated.

134,217,755.

As he reached the doorway, he received a message from Elric. He continued out, pressing ahead through the claustrophobic gray corridors. Elric's words followed him.

Although the road has not been easy, and you have yet to come to peace with it, you are one who does good, one who brings light. You saved Matthew Gideon, G'Leel, Alwyn, Blaylock. You have performed valuable tasks for the mages. Your research provides new insights.

In our self-imposed exile, it is hard for any of us to feel as if we can do good, as if we have purpose. But you have found your work. Once you find its purpose, you will find the path to do further the good.

I hope, in your future, you will find joy, and in your past, you will find wisdom.

You say the past is dead to you. I hope, selfishly, that is not true, for I am part of your past. But more than that, the past is not something to be killed, or forgotten. You have overcome much, and those experiences, if you have the strength to embrace them, are all that can make you whole. I wish I had been of more assistance in this regard. For you have brought me much happiness, and I wish no less for you. I am proud of you. And I love you.

Galen erased the message.

He didn't want to think of it. He must not think of it. 268,435,484.

I am proud of you. And I love you.

Those last three words. In all their years together, Elric had never said that to him.

The message read like a farewell. The thought froze him in place.

Elric deteriorated farther each day. Was that why Elric had praised him today? Was that Elric's way of saying good-bye?

Elric couldn't die.

Galen couldn't imagine a life without him. Galen took deliberate, calming breaths. He should be helping Elric through this time, as Elric had always helped him. But he could not. He could do nothing for Elric. For either of them.

He put the thought from his mind, forced his feet back into motion. He must maintain control, above all. He realized that, for the first time in many months, he had lost track of his mind-focusing exercise.

He took a shaky breath, quickly began again. The comforting walls of the exercise rose up around him, narrowing his thoughts, protecting him from all that lay beyond.

One. Three. Six.

C
HAPTER 3

Galen stopped outside the observation room, and in his mind's eye visualized the equation to access its systems. It requested the key for authorization, and he gave it. The door slid open.

The small gray room sat on the periphery of the compound. It was from here alone that access could be gained to the universe outside. A variety of devices lined one wall, their curved metallic shapes looking almost alive, shimmering with the subtle blue glow of a shield, a special protection of the Circle. The complex devices had been built by Herazade and those who had helped her prepare the hiding place. These were connected to other, larger devices elsewhere in the compound. They assured that the asteroid the techno-mages now inhabited would remain invisible to detection; that signals arriving at the hiding place from their many relays and probes would not betray their presence; and that no one and nothing could leave this place, save with the authorization of the Circle.

Galen sat in the single straight-backed chair and requested the menu of available information sources, the tech echoing his command. The mages had planted hundreds of thousands of sturdy probes during their travels, had infiltrated numerous data systems. All of those resources had now been given over to the Circle. Galen selected one probe after the next, flipping through the images in his mind's eye, searching the area of the Shadows' latest attacks for any new destruction.

Although Elric, Blaylock, and Herazade directed the system, Galen had been given limited access, to observe events outside. He had volunteered for the task, after he'd heard that several others had asked to be released from it. The others preferred not to know what happened to those they had forsaken. They preferred not to watch the galaxy dissolve into chaos, to see billions die. They preferred to forget, as much as possible, that worlds beyond this one existed. The order that had once prided itself on knowing all that could be known now preferred to know as little as possible. Of the universe, all they cared to know was when it would be safe for them once again.

Most of them had fled out of fear. For simple self- preservation, they had forsaken the galaxy. In so doing, they had forsaken their Code. They had forsaken themselves.

Only the Circle – and Galen – fully understood their situation. They were unfit to remain among others, unfit to fight in this war. They were, potentially, almost as great a threat as the Shadows. They'd had no choice but to withdraw. While leaving had been necessary, though, that in no way excused their absence.

Every death was a consequence of their failure-their failure to fight the Shadows, their failure to defeat them. Or, more accurately, his failure. If he'd had better control, instead of withdrawing from the war he could have gone to Z'ha'dum, could have tried, at least, to destroy the Shadows. Yet he'd known that if he confronted his creators, his destruction would not be limited to them.

He would kill any who came within reach. As he had killed so many on Thenothk. So instead, he watched. In truth, he did not want to see. He did not want to hear. But to those he had left behind, he owed that. He owed much more. He watched as wars broke out one after another – the Centauri blasting the Narn home-world to a barren land of dust and wind, the Earth Alliance falling into bloody civil war, the Brakiri ruthlessly massacring their neighbors – while the Shadows worked behind the scenes, inciting conflict and destruction. He watched as the Shadows began attacking directly, crippling civilizations, killing billions.

He catalogued each new loss, each new tragedy, as chaos spread to envelop the galaxy. Galen finished his examination of the large area the Shadows had been raiding. Some planets lay in ruins; others had fallen into anarchy, the inhabitants desperate to flee to some safer place.

He saw no new signs of aggression, and turned his attention to other probes. A familiar figure flashed through his mind's eye, and Galen stopped the flow of images. On Babylon 5, it was evening, and as was his habit, Morden sat alone in the open-air cafe for an after-dinner coffee. The security camera was over twenty feet away and encompassed most of the cafe, yet Morden seemed set apart from the other patrons. With his dark hair styled cleanly back, hands folded neatly on the table, a mild smile on his face, he studied the surrounding activity: a predator in wait, evaluating potential prey.

He was persona non grata aboard the station, but with well-placed bribes he came and went as he pleased. When he was there, rather than detain or eject him, John Sheridan, the station's captain, preferred to observe the enemy. Morden was more important to the Shadows than Galen had first realized.

They were only as strong as their strongest puppet, and Morden was their strongest. On Babylon 5, he gathered intelligence and manipulated officials of various governments with a skillful combination of temptations and threats. Through his many travels, his influence spread even wider. He alone had driven the Centauri to war with the Narn and other races. Millions of Narns had died in the bombing, and even now that the war was over, they continued to die, some from illness and starvation, others in the Centauri's methodical campaign of pacification and genocide.

Galen could not watch him long. He selected another image.

Londo Mollari sat before a mirror in his quarters as his attaché, Vir, ministered to his great crest of hair. The probe that had been planted on Vir's cheek almost two years ago remained molecularly bound to his skin, revealing the continuing crimes of his master. Londo's finances, power, and influence had increased a hundredfold since the mages had left Babylon 5. Thanks to Morden, Londo was now a major force in the Centauri government, both respected and feared. Some even believed he might one day become emperor. Although Londo had broken his alliance with the Shadows after winning the war against the Narn, Morden had cleverly drawn him back into the fold by having Londo's love, Adira, killed, and leading Londo to believe the Centauri lord Refa responsible. Londo turned to Morden for aid in killing the influential Refa; the plan Londo had devised would soon come to fruition. He was a harder, more ruthless person than he had been. He had little time for drinking or gambling anymore; right now, revenge was foremost in his thoughts.

A condition with which Galen was familiar.

He selected another probe, the one he had long ago affixed to G'Leel's shoulder. Alwyn had surely detected it but he allowed it to remain, perhaps hoping the mages would see what he saw, and decide to leave the hiding place.

G'Leel sat in the lush office of a well-dressed Drazi, while Alwyn – in the guise of "Thomas Alecto," one of his many false identities – paced back and forth, delivering an impassioned speech to convince the Drazi to donate relief supplies for the Narn. Thomas Alecto was the director of the "Citizens of Light Disaster Relief Society," one of Alwyn's seemingly endless supply of fictitious companies. He and G'Leel, a "consultant" for the society, organized desperate relief missions to the ruins of Narn. The two of them flew in the supplies, evading the Centauri defenses.

When they had first decided to work together to fight the Shadows, they had hoped to stop the great war before it began in earnest. They had interfered in several of the smaller wars, providing unexpected resistance, and even, in one case, negotiating a surprise peace agreement.

Yet they were limited in what they could accomplish. At the beginning of the Narn-Centauri war, they tried to convince the Narn leaders in the Kha'Ri that their true enemies were not the Centauri, but the Shadows. The Narns' hatred for their former slave-masters, though, was too strong. They would not believe.

The decimation of the Narn home-world was a horrible blow to both G'Leel and Alwyn. Alwyn released his frustration in brutal bar fights and other undisciplined outbursts. The death of Carvin still hung heavily on him, and this new tragedy sucked away any forward momentum he had maintained.

Although he ranted about fighting the Shadows, he could no longer gather himself sufficiently to organize any action.

But G'Leel was determined to strike back at the Shadows directly. She gathered a few allies from the Narn underground, and together they devised a suicidal plan: bomb the Shadows' home of Z'ha'dum. In three ships they set out for Alpha Omega 3. Within moments of dropping out of hyperspace into the system, though, they were targeted by Z'ha'dum's planetary defense net. Weapons platforms took aim, fired. Two ships were instantly destroyed.

G'Leel and the others aboard the third ship barely escaped into hyperspace. Disheartened, G'Leel had returned to Alwyn, and his attempt to raise her spirits had at last propelled Alwyn out of the worst of his depression.

They had begun to organize relief missions and gather information for the Narn resistance. In Galen's mind's eye, the Drazi refused for the third time to provide any supplies. Alwyn's voice rose, and he rounded the desk toward the Drazi, his hand closing into a fist. G'Leel jumped up, came between them. Galen flipped through more probes.

Alwyn and G'Leel did what they could, but they would not stop the Shadows. Any major opposition would have to involve several different races acting in concert, and it would have to arise from Babylon 5. John Sheridan, the station's captain, had been organizing a secret alliance over the last months, attempting to build an Army of Light, a force of sufficient strength to oppose the Shadows.