Volume 4:  A Future, Born in Pain Part I:  The Fiery Trial Through Which we Pass




Chapter 3


DELENN of Mir, now the leader of the United Alliance of Kazomi 7, had been blessed with the love of five men during her life.
      The first had been her father, who had passed from this world a few years after the fall of Earth and the Battle of Mars.  He had been unable to reconcile his beliefs with the terrible consequences of the war to which his daughter had committed their people.
      The second had been Dukhat, her teacher and mentor.  It was he who had recognised the flame of destiny in her, and had nourished and nurtured it, raising her to the position she had been born to hold.  If he could have realised the horror that would result from that choice, would he still have made it?  Delenn did not know.
      The third had been Draal, her father's dearest friend.  He had died three years ago, killed by a stray shot on the verge of achieving a greater destiny than anyone could imagine.
      The fifth had been Captain John Sheridan, for whom she had walked into darkness, sacrificed her future, and her people, and her heart.
      But the fourth....  She had thought him lost for years now, and it had been years before that when they had last spoken.  Neroon had chosen his own destiny, turning his back on the Rangers, on his leader Branmer, on his people, and on his one true love.  He had gone to join Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar.  He had recognised the growing darkness within his people, and had known then that this war against the Shadows would have to be fought by others.
      Now it seemed he had changed his destiny a second time and had sought a new path, one which had brought him here.... to a dead world at the end of the galaxy, and back into the life of his former love.
      "Delenn," he said, looking at her with his dark eyes.  "We have a great deal to discuss."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"I would just like to say this is the craziest plan I have ever gone along with."
      "I heard you the first time.  For that matter, I heard you thinking it the first time.  For one of us, you really don't hide your thoughts very well."
      "The product of an unsophisticated upbringing, I'm sure.  What do you hope to find in here?"
      "Information.  Just what Trace is doing with our people once he gets them, where he sends them to, who takes receipt.... why all this.  And you may be interested in hard evidence of criminal activities, enough to take to Main Dome and help your poor, oppressed friends in Sector Three-o-one."
      "Right.  Thanks for the reminder."
      "Oh, don't worry.  I've done this hundreds of times before."
      "That's supposed to make me not worry?"
      "You're too tense.  I thought you said you'd spent all your time breaking into things as a child."
      "That was as a child.  I've had all those years of Earthforce training and mindsets to turn me around since then."
      "Pity.  If only we'd known, we could have done a great deal with you."
      "I was happy where I was."
      "Happy, really?  I don't think so.  I was watching you while I was on the Babylon.  You always looked as if you were.... filling someone else's shoes, standing in until the star came back.  You didn't belong there."
      "Ah, a regular psychiatrist.  That just made it easier for you to trick me, right?"
      "Well.... yes, but I didn't enjoy doing it.  I actually liked you, believe it or not.  I've seen many a worse officer than you."
      "Oo, praise.  I'm flattered."
      "But you still didn't belong there.  You belong here.  Somebody has to fight the small battles after all."
      "So which are you fighting?  The small battles, or the big ones?"
      "I'm a.... small part in a big battle.  The future of humanity could depend on finding out what's happening here."
      "Oh, great.  The future of humanity resting on my shoulders.  Again."
      "I knew I could depend on you.  Besides, we're the future of humanity."
      "You telepaths?"
      "We telepaths.  You're one of us, remember."
      "Oh, how silly of me to forget."
      "Now, shush.  You remember what we're looking for?"
      "Yes."
      "And how to get in?"
      "Yes."
      "Good.  Let's go."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

It was Lyta who first noticed the emergence of the Shadow ships from hyperspace.  It began with a dull buzzing at the back of her mind, as she heard the far distant echoes of their screams.  Reaching up to rub her eyes, she blinked, and caught a flash of them surrounding the Babylon.
      The ship seemed to move beneath her, crying out in yearning.  Of course, part of it was Shadow technology.  The Shadow ships were alive after all, in a sense.  It was only reasonable that the living tech within the Babylon should call out to its elder siblings nearby.
      The ship had come home.
      Wait, hissed the voice in her mind.  All is as was planned.
      "They're coming," she said, unsure whether she had spoken the words or merely thought them.  "They're here."
      There will not be a fight.  The war is not destined to be fought here.... yet.  The Vorlon's voice paused, and she could detect a sensation of immense smugness.  And if it is, then you will be ready for it.
      The buzzing grew louder, and she collapsed to her knees in pain just as the first Shadow ship came into view.
      "Battle stations!" cried Commander Corwin.  "Lyta, are you ready...?"  He turned.  "Lyta!"
      "There won't be...."  She coughed, harshly.  "There won't be a fight.  I don't think."
      "She's right," said Sheridan.  He was still staring forward.  "They want to intimidate us, that's all.  They're not ready for a fight."
      Corwin's confusion was plain on his face, but he nodded.  "Okay....  We all know this how?"
      "Trust me, David."
      He shrugged.  "How many of them are there, anyway?"
      The technician looked up from his control panel.  He looked terrified, as well he might.  "Seventeen.... eighteen.... more coming through.... twenty-two."
      "Well," muttered Corwin to himself.  "We'd better let them get up to fifty before we attack.  We want them to have a fair chance after all."
      Sheridan suddenly rose to his feet, a mere moment before a signal came through on open channel.
      --- This is Z'ha'dum to invading vessel.  This is our airspace.  Why have you come here? ---
      A human voice, speaking in English.  That creeped out a lot of people even more than they were already.
      "This is Captain John Sheridan," said the Captain.  "We are the former EAS Babylon.  We have come on a mission of rescue.  May I know who I am speaking to?"
      --- John.... ---   Even over the commsignal the voice sounded horrified.  --- I was told you were....  Hah!  This is David Sheridan, representative of the.... um.... the Shadows, and the Resistance Government of Proxima Three.  I guess you don't remember our last conversation, hmm? ---
      The Captain said nothing.  Corwin closed his eyes.  Delenn had told him that the Ambassador Sheridan who had come to Kazomi 7 on the peace initiative last year had been John's father, but that John was not to be told of this.
      --- I think we need to discuss this in private.  Do I have leave to come aboard your vessel? ---
      "Yes," said the Captain in a hollow voice.  "Come alone, and instruct your Shadow allies not to make any aggressive moves towards us.  We do not want to start a fight."
      --- Of course not.  I taught you never to do that.  We will speak on board.  Z'ha'dum out. ---
      "Well," Corwin said, partly to himself.  "We're still alive.  That's good.  Lyta, are you...?"
      Lyta didn't hear him.  She looked up at the Captain, and for just one, brief moment, she saw his eyes shine a bright gold.  But it was only for a moment, and then the light was gone.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Vejar had been expecting him for some time.  He had sensed the impending arrival of Cathedral before any of Kazomi 7's sensors picked it up.  He had heard the whispers of the Well of Souls in his dreams for days now.
      He had been on Kazomi 7 for almost two years, and he had rarely regretted his decision to relinquish his order and work here.  He had been blessed to know some truly wonderful people, especially Delenn.  His betrayal of her hurt him badly, but it was necessary.  Elric and the One Above All had wondered at the end.... would this be the Blessed Delenn for whom they had all waited, or would she merely repeat the mistakes of the past?
      He wished he knew.
      He could see the darkness growing in Kazomi 7.  The omens and portents had been building ever since Captain Sheridan had been injured.  The false peace talks with the Shadows, the arrival of the new Vorlon Ambassador, and now Cathedral.... and Sinoval the Cursed.
      "Open," he said.  The door did so, and in he walked.
      Vejar turned to look at Sinoval.  He looked not only with his eyes, but with his soul.  He saw genuine goodness in the man, but buried deep beneath darkness and hatred and anger.  He instantly saw Sinoval's greatest weakness, which was identical to his greatest virtue.  He could never regret any action he took, and hence he could not learn from his mistakes.
      He was incapable of love, and that would curse him.  In time.
      "Welcome to my abode, Primarch Sinoval the Cursed.  I have been expecting you for some time."
      "I apologise if I kept you waiting, technomage."  To Vejar's silent thanks, the Primarch's Honour Guard was kept outside.  "I thought it wise to know more about you first.  I have been in discussion with the Vindrizi."
      "Yes.  I had heard they were now under your protection.  There are ancient ties of blood and song between our order and their race.  It is good that they are kept safe."
      "They told me something similar.  They are a strange group, their visions and memories focussed on sights and wonders and nature, and not the banalities of politics or warfare.  This makes their use.... limited, in the current situation, but they were very helpful in discussing the technomages.
      "Tell me, magus, you have been conspicuous by your absence whenever the new Vorlon Ambassador makes a public appearance.  As you were when his predecessor was here."
      "I could say the same about you, Primarch.  You have been avoiding the Vorlons for a while."
      "I am waiting for the time to be right.  I will not hide from the Vorlons forever.  You know why Delenn has gone to Z'ha'dum, don't you?"  Vejar nodded, unable to say anything.  "As do I.  She sent me a message, in which she spoke of other messages that would be sent.... to people here.  It seems however that you and I are the only persons on this world who know the truth.  The common belief seems to be that she was abducted by agents of the Shadow."
      Vejar shrugged.  "If that is what they wish to believe...."
      "They can believe what they choose!  It is not the truth and there are some here who should at least know the truth.  Why, then, do they not?  Have the Vorlons gained so much influence here already?"
      "It would appear so."
      "And you have done nothing to stop it?"
      "I think you misunderstand the nature of our order, Primarch.  We do not act.  We shape events so that others may act.  I am one man, and one of the weakest in power in our order.  I am not here to save the galaxy."
      "Oh?  That is curious, because I am.  Will you lend your power to assist me?  I come here seeking allies."
      "A fine and noble aim, but I must decline."
      "Why?"
      "There is a globe, affixed to a wall in Cathedral.  Within that globe lies the soul of one of the greatest of our order, trapped there forever, beyond the reach of our power to restore or amend.  Her wisdom and power and knowledge are all now lost to us.  There is a standing instruction within our order.... the Soul Hunters and those who do business with them are our enemy."
      "I make a very bad enemy."
      "As do we."
      Sinoval pondered this for a moment and then nodded, resigned.  "Very well.  I thank you for your candour, magus.  I ask you only to beware of the Vorlons.  They are waiting.... for their turn."
      "That I know.  I do.... have something which may be able to assist you, Primarch, a piece of advice you will no doubt refuse to heed.  You see.... the gift of prophecy is not unknown to us.  You have a destiny."
      "There is no destiny save that which I make myself."
      "I know.  You have denied your destiny more than once in your life.  Do so if you wish.... but accept your doom.  If you deny that, then we are all lost.  Speak to the Well of Souls.  There you will be able to learn all you wish to know, although I do not think you will like what you hear there."
      "Have you ever seen the Well of Souls?"
      "No.... and nor do I ever wish to.  I do not know what the Well is entirely.... but I know enough to fear it greatly."
      "Knowledge is power, so it is said.  Within the Well of Souls lies the answer to every question ever asked.... save one.  What is that last question?"
      "I do not know, although I wish I did."
      Sinoval digested this for a moment, and then nodded.  "Well.... be at peace, magus.  Remember what I have said."
      "I would advise you to do the same, Primarch," Vejar replied.  He waited until Sinoval had gone and then closed his eyes, remembering the rest of the prophecy he had not told his visitor.  The Starfire Wheel would open.... there would be blood and darkness, and two souls would be lost forevermore.
      And innocent blood would be shed.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"Hello, son."
      Ambassador David Sheridan had been on the Babylon once or twice before, diplomatic affairs during the final stages of the war with the Minbari, and on its return to Proxima at the end of the war.  He didn't like the ship, for the same reasons that Dexter Smith had not.  The entire ship was touched by his son.  John was everywhere here.  Despite the year and a half or so Smith had been in charge, and the extensive Shadowtech overhaul, the ship was still John's.
      David Sheridan felt a chill in his spine as he walked into the ready room to see his son.  John was standing.  He looked well.  How had this been done?  What had it cost him?
      Still, he covered up his shock as well as he was able.  He was a career diplomat after all, and despite his one blind spot concerning his son, he had plenty of experience at hiding his emotions.
      "Hello, son."
      "Dad," John said.  He sounded cold.  "So.... you are still alive, then.  You.... came to see me at Kazomi Seven, didn't you?"  David nodded.  "I thought it was just a dream.  Delenn told me it was just a dream."
      "Delenn must have told you a great many things."  Ambassador Sheridan looked around at the others in the room.  Commander Corwin he recognised of course.  There were two Narn security guards - remnants of the infamous Narn Bat Squad from the Parmenion no doubt.  And there was her.... the telepath.  She stank of Vorlon.  "I think we should talk alone."  He had come up to the ship alone.
      "We stay," said one of the Narns firmly.  It was the female.
      "No," said John.  "Ko'Dath, G'Dan.... I think you should go.  David, Lyta.... you too.  I'm not in any danger."
      "If you say so," muttered Commander Corwin as he left.  The two Narns made angry faces.  The telepath said nothing.
      "It's good to see you again," Ambassador Sheridan said, sitting down.  "I'll admit to being surprised.... what happened?"
      "I could ask you the same thing.  Are you really my dad?"
      "Yes, of course I am."  He sighed.  "Do you remember the time you were studying for your exams.... and you couldn't sleep because it wasn't raining?  I went outside, and took up the hose...."
      "And made it rain on the roof," John finished.  "I remember."
      "And every Sunday.... we used to go for a drive."
      John nodded.  "It is you.  I.... don't know if that's a good thing or not.  How could you work for them, Dad?  Where's Mom?  And Liz?  Why didn't you let me know...?"
      "I would have.... if I could.  When I got to Proxima.... you'd gone.... up and left.  I wasn't sure what to think, and there wasn't any way of getting in touch with you.  As for your mum.... and Elizabeth.... they're both dead.  I was the lucky one."
      "What happened?"
      He sighed.  "Some of us tried to get away from Earth before the end.  We weren't getting much news in from the Line.... just what we could see above us.  But.... there was a moment.... a hesitation in the battle.  Some of us tried to get away.  We didn't get anywhere of course.  The Minbari picked us up easily.  They weren't sure what to do with us, for a while....
      "Then one of their leaders came in.  He gave us to one of his allies....  Warmaster Jha'dur."
      "Deathwalker," John whispered in horror.
      "She was more than happy with the gift.  She hated humans.... all of us.  It was her who brought us word that Earth had been destroyed.  She was so pleased about that."  He shook his head sadly.  "Your mother and Liz died there.... in her lab.  I don't know what of, exactly.  I think your mother was infected with some sort of cancer cells, but I'm not sure.  I didn't even see Liz for most of the time, only her body.
      "Someone came to see us a bit later on.  I don't know how long I was there.... months, probably.  Maybe years even.  I'd.... been left alone.  I don't know why.  It doesn't matter.  This person came up to see me, a human, which surprised me.  He gave his name as Shryne, and he asked me a simple question....  'What do you want?'"
      John sighed, and placed his hand over his eyes.
      "An easy question to answer, isn't it, son?  I heard the reply you gave to Ivanova.  I don't blame you.  My answer wasn't too different.  I wanted....  I wanted to be free of that place.  I wanted peace.  I wanted my family revenged, my people revenged.  I wanted my people to be safe.
      "That seemed to satisfy him.  I was set free and brought here, to Z'ha'dum.  That's where I learned the truth about the Shadows, about the Vorlons, about this whole conflict of theirs.  It's been going on for longer than anyone can say.
      "Well, that's me....  What happened to you?"
      "I was healed.  It doesn't matter.  Dad.... come back to Kazomi Seven.  You don't owe the Shadows anything.  It was their agent that killed Mom and Liz, remember."
      "Deathwalker wasn't working for the Shadows.  She was.... an independent operator.  She had her own goals entirely."
      "She infected me with a terminal virus....  She was going to use me to wipe out humanity!"
      "That was not our decision, John.  She did that all by herself.  We just got wind of it later and managed to get hold of a cure.  The virus was only intended for the Minbari, not us.  The Shadows are very fond of humanity, you know.  They want to help us.  We can be.... right on top of things this time.  They're going to make sure we're never threatened by anyone like the Minbari ever again."
      "Where's Delenn?"
      Ambassador Sheridan stopped as if physically struck.  "What?"
      "Where is she?"
      "On the surface.  John.... she's one of them.  She's a Minbari.  She's the enemy."
      "I love her."
      "John, listen to me!  You're the only surviving member of my family now.  You're my son, and I can forgive you a lot.  You.... fell apart a bit.  I can understand that, fighting them all for so long.  Long-term combat stress.  A nervous breakdown of some sort was inevitable, even without her influencing you.  I can understand why you betrayed your people, why you fought against our allies.... what you did to Anna.
      "But she played a part in all of that.  She's a Minbari.  It was her people who destroyed Earth, her people who hid Deathwalker for so long and let her inflict her tortures on both of us.  Remember where your loyalties are.... to your people.  Not to her!"
      "Where is she?!"
      Ambassador Sheridan sighed.  "She's on the surface.  We haven't decided what to do with her yet.  I was thinking of sending her to Proxima for a war crime trial.  She'd get a fair hearing, I promise you that.  It's even possible she'll be acquitted."
      "I want to see her."
      "John, listen...."
      "I need to make sure she's all right."
      Ambassador Sheridan sighed.  "Fine.  You can come down to the surface to see her, if you like.  It will also give us a chance to explain just what it is the Shadows are doing.... just what their plans for all of us are.  Give them a chance, and you'll find they're nothing like what you've been told.  G'Kar, her.... all of them, they've been leading you astray from the beginning."
      "I want to see her.  Then.... then we'll see."
      "Good.  You can even bring some of your men if you like.  Not the telepath woman, but as many of the others as you wish."
      "Just David will be fine.  Come on.  Let's go."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Delenn looked into the eyes of the man she had once believed she loved.  Her experience with John had now convinced her that what she had felt for Neroon had not been true love, but an exceptionally deep and abiding friendship; a love that had not been romantic or passionate, but a real, lasting affection.
      To see him like this....
      "I am sorry, Neroon," she said softly.  "I do not think we have anything to talk about."
      "I did not betray you, Delenn.  I would never do that, and I did not betray our people.  I simply.... chose another path.  Parlonn took this path, the same one as I do now.... a thousand years ago."
      "Parlonn was a traitor, was he not?"
      "No.  He was a visionary, who chose a different destiny for his people.  They have told me, Delenn.... all of them.  I have seen the Shadows.  They are not our enemy!  We've been manipulated all along, by the Vorlons, by our own prophecies.... since before Valen.... we've been pushed this way and that."
      "I have seen these Shadows, Neroon.  I have seen them at war.  They attacked our ships, our worlds, our people.  Not just Minbari, but all of us.  Drazi, Brakiri, Narn.... they exist only to make war."
      "No!  That's just it, Delenn.  You don't understand."
      "I don't want to."
      He took a step forward and knelt down at her feet.  "Delenn," he whispered.  "I can free you from this place.  I can see you safe.  The humans want to kill you.... they want to torture you and execute you.  I.... I cannot let that happen."
      "The Shadows will...."  She swallowed.  "They will not be pleased about that."
      "I serve them in my own way.  I think they recognise that.  Agree to serve us, Delenn.  Work alongside us.  They admire your skills, your strength, your courage.  Agree to do that.... and I will protect you."  He gently reached up to her face, her human face, and touched her long hair with a quiet wonder.
      "You have changed," he whispered.  "I like it."
      "You have also changed," she said, tears beginning to glisten in her eyes.  "You now seem.... so certain of your place.  You were so divided before, in the Anla'Shok."
      "I was," he said, his hands still in her hair.  "Branmer was a good man.... a fine man, but he did not see.  He could not see the darkness that was going to engulf us all.  In a way, I am glad he passed beyond before it could do so.  He would not have wanted to see Minbar as it now is."
      "No," Delenn breathed, leaning in close to him.  "He would not."
      "Now I know, Delenn.... in a way I did not, even with G'Kar.  I know where our path is."
      "What did they...?  Do you.... have a Keeper?"  Her voice was so quiet now, it was barely even a whisper.
      "No, Delenn.  I am myself."  Her heart reached out to his heart.  "Please, Delenn.... let me protect you.  Let me...."
      She said nothing.  There was nothing to say.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Talia had done this sort of thing countless times before.  It had become a skill, a thing she had learned through training and experience, just as she had learned the arts of disguise, infiltration, sabotage.... murder.
      It was strange, the knowledge that all these things could be done by a mundane.  They were all things that could be learned, with enough time and effort and will, and with a good teacher.  Her talents helped her of course, that went without saying, but how much difference would it have made if she did not possess them?  Would she merely rely on instinct, or hunches, as Captain Smith did?  Of course, he was one of her people as well, no matter how he tried to deny it.
      Fortunately, although he had not been trained in infiltration and stealth, his eventful childhood in Sector 301 had taught him a fair few useful tricks.
      Trace's nightclub had a back entrance, as both of them had known it would.  It had been guarded, but not very well.  The security guard - evidently one of Trace's own thugs and not a proper Security agent - had been half asleep, and a slight telepathic pinprick had sent him the rest of the way.  The door had been locked, but Al had long ago provided Talia with a very handy electronic skeleton key which opened it in a few seconds.
      The noise from the front of the club had not been as loud as she had expected, which was not good.  A lot of noise would serve to cover any bumps and bangs they made in the back.  As it was, they would have to be more careful.
      Finding Trace's office was simply a matter of trial and error.  It was the third room they tried, after stumbling upon an old cupboard and a cloakroom.  The lock on the office was considerably better than the one outside, and it took Talia's device over a minute to open it.  All the while Smith hopped about nervously, keeping out a watchful eye.  Talia wondered if she would have time to teach him how to use his telepathy to keep a more efficient watch, but then she realised he probably would not be strong enough.
      Just how powerful was he anyway?  Not a P5, certainly.  A P3, maybe.  P2?  Less?
      She angrily clicked away these irrelevant musings and returned to the task of unlocking the door.  It was soon managed, and she pushed it open.
      The office was empty, with the lights off.  Talia waited until Smith entered, then pushed the door shut.  Only when it was closed did she activate the lights.
      "What now?" asked Smith, looking around the office.  He was probably disappointed to find it so.... normal-looking.  Talia was inclined to agree.  Weren't the inner sanctums of notorious gangland bosses meant to be more.... opulent than this?  Fancy pictures on the walls, various ornamentations hiding fiendishly cunning spy cameras and poisoned blowpipes?
      As it was, the only things on the wall were a half-filled-in year planner for the year just finished, and a calendar featuring women in various degrees of undress.  A quick scan of the room with another handy gadget soon revealed that there were no recording devices or security cameras of any sort.
      "Now," she said, "we find the evidence we need.  I find out how he's involved with the telepaths and IPX, and you find solid evidence of criminal activities you can take to Main Dome to stop Trace oppressing the poor, innocent people of Sector Three-o-one."
      "Joke all you like," he said bitterly, looking at the calendar, and twisting his head slightly to grasp the angle.  "These people need help just as much as anyone else.  Hardly anyone lives here by choice.  Do you think anyone can actually get into that position?  I mean, without being a contortionist or whatever."
      "It's one of life's mysteries I'm perfectly happy to leave unanswered.  Come on, we might not have much time."  She turned to the desk and began rummaging through the flimsies.
      "I had a quick glance out front.  There's a fair few celebrities out there.  From what I know of him, Trace will be spending as much time with them as possible.  Maybe getting in a picture or two thanks to the paparazzi."
      "Quite likely.  Anyone from IPX out there?"
      "The only person from IPX who could even remotely be called a celebrity is the CEO, Orin Zento, and I don't think this is his sort of thing.  Even if it were, why advertise the relationship?"
      "Good point.  What about security guards?  Off-duty ones, I mean."
      "Possible.  I don't know too many.  Just Allan, mainly.  I didn't see him, which I guess is just as well."
      "I think I remember him.  He might have been on the Babylon for a short time while I was there.  You got rid of him, didn't you?"
      "Hmm.  I had.... some doubts about his ability to do his job."  He began flipping through the pages of the calendar.  He gave a soft whistle at one picture.
      "Any chance of you doing some work here?" Talia asked, acidly.  He jumped away from the calendar as if electrocuted.
      "Found anything?" he asked, turning.
      "Possibly."  She was reading a piece of paper with a grim look on her face.  "Have a look at this."
      "It's a receipt," he replied, taking it.  "Compass Deliveries.  Never heard of them."
      "Nor me, but they've been doing a lot of work for Trace.  Look where everything's been delivered to."
      "Sector one-one-one.  Warehouse district."
      "The last-dated delivery is the day after Byron was taken.  Here's another business document.  From a cryogenics company.  Mr. Trace has bought a great deal of freezer units and storage equipment.  All human-sized."
      "What?  You think your friend was put in cryogenic stasis?"
      "Here.  Before transportation."
      "Why do that?  I mean, if he was only being sent to IPX Headquarters, that's.... a couple of hours at most.  If the cryo was just for the journey, wouldn't it be easier just to fill him full of tranks, or those.... sleepers?"
      "Maybe they're planning to send him quite a bit further than IPX Headquarters.  And speaking of sleepers...."  She pulled a box out of a drawer.  "This would be over two months worth of dosage for a P five rated telepath.  There's another six boxes here."
      "Evidence, yes.  But too many questions.  What do IPX want with telepaths?  I mean, they have a few medical research subsidiaries.... they took over SynTech and Edgars Industries, but...."  He suddenly straightened, as did Talia.  There was the sound of footsteps outside the door.
      Talia ducked down behind the desk, while Smith darted to the corner.  He was too slow, however.  The door opened, revealing Mr. Trace and five other men behind him.
      "Well," he said, smiling.  "Gatecrashers.  I'm sorry, sir, madam, but we operate under a very strict dress code here, and the management reserves the right to refuse admission to anyone at all.  Especially people who come in through the back way and try to rummage through all my private documents.
      "How's this meant to go again?  You have the right to.... well, not a lawyer of any kind.  And remaining silent's fine by me.  Oh, here we are.  You have the right to remain.... well, dead."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Susan Ivanova could feel it.... the throbbing at the back of her mind.  When she closed her eyes she could see again the Vorlon slowly opening his encounter suit.... and the brilliant, shining light that had burrowed deep into her soul.
      Before it had died, the Vorlon had said something to her.  She had not understood the significance of the message before, and she was not sure she did now.  <Remember.>
      She had been hearing his voice in her sleep for some months now, although she always forgot on awakening.  A few days ago however that voice had faded completely, to be replaced by another one, a much older one, filled with sadness and age and a terrible, tragic wisdom.
      "Come to me," said this new voice.  "Bring them both to me."
      It was only now, with the light filling her mind again, with the whispers of Lyta and Marcus in her mind, that Susan Ivanova knew what she had to do.
      "They will not find you," said the ancient voice.  "They will be able to find the others.  Be careful."
      She had known where to go.  She also supposed she knew what to do.  Could she do this?  The last time she had seen Delenn.... well, the last time had been two and a half years in the past, but the last time Delenn had seen her.... had been just after the chrysalis.  She had broken her free of it, trying to kill her.
      She reached the door to Delenn's cell, and hesitated.  There was someone else in there.  She paused, thinking for one dreadful moment that Lyta had come here already, and was waiting to trap her.  Then a moment of sanity reasserted itself.  She would feel Lyta's thoughts if she were here.  She was not.  It was.... someone else.  It was....
      Of course.  It was Neroon.
      The door was unlocked, at least from this side.  She pushed it open.
      It was Neroon there.  Susan had not had much to do with him recently.  He had not come here until long after she had left for Proxima, and since her return.... she had been distracted.  He was often away, performing similar duties to those he had for G'Kar and the Rangers.  This was the longest he had been here for as long as she could remember.
      Neroon was kneeling next to Delenn.  They were very close, almost kissing.  Delenn started as she heard Susan come in, jumping back.  Neroon rose slowly to his feet, and fixed his dark gaze on her.
      "We've got to get out of here," Susan said quickly.
      "Escape?" whispered Delenn.  "How?"
      "There's.... someone here.  A friend, I think.  He can help us."
      "Who?"
      Susan considered this question for a while.  "I don't know," she admitted.  "It doesn't matter.  He.... talks to me.... in my dreams.  Oh, stop that!  I'm not crazy.  I've been crazy.... for a very, very long time.  Probably ever since my mother died.  But I'm not crazy now.  I've never been more sane."
      Neroon slowly walked over to her and pulled the door shut.  "What are you talking about?" he said harshly.  "You swore to serve them, as I did."
      "Yeah?  They promised I'd be safe, but they didn't do a very good job of it.  I've lost two people who.... meant a great deal to me....  I've had my mind turned inside and out.  I've been hopping back and forward through time like a.... a.... jack-in-the-box.... and they've done nothing to stop it.  I think they betrayed me first."
      "I swore to follow them.  I will not permit this."
      Delenn spoke his name softly, and Susan could see the spark of love in his eyes as she did so.  She cursed them both.  What gave them the right to be happy, when she was without Marcus, without Laurel, without.... everyone?  Then she silently regretted the thought.
      "Neroon...." Delenn said quietly.  "I know you are here because you believe in them, because you believe they are right.  They are not.  Whatever they claim, the Shadows exist only to kill, and to destroy, and to cause chaos.  Maybe.... maybe the Vorlons are not the right path either, but they are better than this.  Come to Kazomi Seven, let me show you what the Shadows have wrought.  They do not believe in helping anyone.
      "They believe only in death."
      "No!  They.... they want us all to grow, to become stronger.... to evolve."
      "Neroon.  You made me a promise once....  Do you remember it?"
      He closed his eyes.  "Delenn.... please.... do not...."
      "Do you remember it?"  The words were striking at him now, for all the softness with which they were spoken.
      "I remember."
      "What was the promise?"
      "That I would stand before you, and never let a shadow touch you.  I would be the light in your darkness."
      "You have been," she replied, stepping up to him and gently touching his face.  "In memory, when you were unable to be so in flesh.  I never forgot you, and nor did those you fought beside with G'Kar.  Return to them.... they need you...."
      "Parlonn...."
      "Is dead.  He died here, killed by someone who had once been his friend.  They lied to him, just as they lied to you.  Do not become another Parlonn, Neroon."  She cast her eyes downward.  "I could not bear that."
      "I swore to keep you safe, Delenn.  You were always.... in my thoughts.... always."  He nodded once.  "Very well....  I have betrayed and abandoned my masters not once, not twice, but three times.  My doom is complete, I believe.  But as long as I am by your side, it cannot claim me."
      "Your doom will never claim you."  Delenn turned back to Susan.  "Where can we go?"
      "I.... don't know.  I think we go down.  Underground.  He's down there.  He can help us."
      "Why are you doing this?" Delenn asked suddenly.  "Why are you...?"
      Helping me?  Susan didn't know.  She could give a million reasons, and none of them would make any sense at all.  She remembered seeing Delenn torn half-formed from the chrysalis, looking at her with a child's eyes.  She remembered seeing Marcus die, his heart stopped by the force of her pike.  She remembered her last talk with Laurel.
      She remembered a great many things.  She could not, however, give any reason that was anything resembling the truth.
      "I must have been dropped on my head when I was a baby," she said, with a half smile.  "I don't need a reason."
      "I will not forget this," Delenn said, as she hurried towards the door.  Neroon pushed it open and stepped through.  Delenn and Susan followed.  The corridor seemed empty.
      "I doubt you'll live long enough to."  There was a sudden buzzing in her ears, and she started.  Suddenly she realised she was holding a weapon, a PPG.  She didn't remember picking it up.  A darkness suddenly fell over Delenn and herself, and a glint of understanding shone in Delenn's eyes.
      "It's one of them," Neroon hissed.  A Shadow was there.  Its eyes opened in brilliant flares, and then they closed, and there was darkness again.
      It moved forward, and the buzzing grew louder.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"Not a very pleasant-looking place," observed the Captain as he looked at the surface of the planet over which the shuttle was flying.  Corwin concurred.
      "I'm told it was a beautiful garden before the Vorlons came here, a thousand years ago," replied his father.  He was still looking at his son.  Corwin didn't think he'd taken his eyes off him at all on their journey down.  "They did something to the ground, poisoned it, so nothing could grow on the surface any more."
      "Sounds like what happened to Minbar," said the Captain absently.
      Ambassador Sheridan said nothing, probably recognising there was very little to say.  Corwin remembered Minbar.  He still dreamed about the poisoned rain, the barren earth, the muddied and deadly waters.  It was not hard for him to imagine the Vorlons doing something similar to Z'ha'dum.
      He did not like this.  Not at all.  The whole thing just screamed 'trap' to him.  Surely the Captain could see that?  But as he looked at him, he began to wonder.  He had said hardly anything during their journey down, and certainly nothing about Delenn.  It must have been a shock, discovering his father was alive, and working for.... well, them.  Corwin wondered how he would react to seeing his own father there, or his brother Adam.  He just couldn't imagine it.
      But there was still something very wrong with this.  The Captain just wasn't himself.  Of course, given everything that he had been through in the last few days, that was hardly a surprise.  To be miraculously cured of his paralysis and a terminal illness, to find his love had been captured by the Enemy and his father was still alive....
      Corwin trusted the Captain.  If he seemed to think this was all right, then he accepted that.  He still didn't have to like any of it.
      The shuttle was coming in to land, and he could see the structures of a city just in view.  It seemed very small.  The buildings couldn't be more than a single storey.  There were hints of something larger, a dome he could only just make out, but he could not see very much to identify this as a major city.
      Then it suddenly struck him.  Underground, of course.  The Shadows would live underground.
      "Here," said Ambassador Sheridan, as the shuttle came to a halt.  He passed over two breathing masks.  "You'll need these.  The atmosphere on the surface is difficult for us to breathe.  The.... uh, the Shadows of course have no problems.  It's only a short way to the entrance, so we won't have to wear them long."
      Corwin fixed on his mask and followed the Captain out.  He had been to a great many alien worlds before - Narn, Kazomi 7, Minbar - but nothing like this.  It seemed as though a great hand had reached down from the skies and scoured away the uppermost earth from the surface.  There was no life here.  No trees, no plants, no animals.  Nothing but howling winds, and a bitter, thick red dust that billowed up around them.
      Ambassador Sheridan led the two of them to a door.  He pushed it open, and Corwin stepped inside.  As he did so, he saw the Captain's head turn to look back outside.  For just the briefest of moments an expression of satisfaction crossed his face, and his eyes seemed to glow with a brilliant light.
      But it was only for a moment, and Corwin put it down to an optical illusion of the strange climate.  In light of what happened later, he forgot about it entirely.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Sinoval tapped his denn'bok against his side thoughtfully, feeling it almost throb against him.  It was a strange weapon, one he had made with his heart and soul in one choking night at Durhan's forge.  He had called it Stormbringer, without thinking why.  The name had just seemed to fit.  It was a name of ill-omen, but then Sinoval's future seemed marked by ill omens.  The blade at least was a fine one, and deadly.  It had wounded a Vorlon once, and saved his life in the Starfire Wheel.
      But lately, when he was aboard Cathedral, he could feel something more within it, something deep and ancient.  There were voices whispering in his dreamless slumbers, and one of them, he was sure, was Stormbringer's.  Cathedral was not an easy place to sleep of course, not even at the best of times, but since his meeting with the Well of Souls....
      He had faced down a great deal in his life, and he had rarely known fear, but at the sound of that voice, filled with wisdom and power and mingled with the memories of billions of different souls.... he had been awed by the sheer majesty of the place, and by the secrets that lay within it.  He was sure he knew only the merest fraction of them, but that was enough, for now at least.  He would soon know all, or almost all.
      Besides, he reminded himself, there was one question to which not even the Well of Souls knew the answer.
      He was not afraid now, however.  He had put off this meeting until he was sure he was ready.  There had been others to see first, to talk to privately, to ascertain the scope of knowledge possessed here.  None of them knew the truth about Delenn's disappearance, which was strange, but easily explained.  Mollari, and Vejar, and Lethke, and Taan Churok.... he had talked to them individually and privately, and he would soon be ready to address the Council as a whole.
      But there was one being he still needed to talk to before that could happen.
      His mind and soul ready, and with Stormbringer still in his hand, he set off down the corridor.  Finding out the location had been simplicity itself.  Vorlons were good at keeping secrets, but the place where their representative resided was not one of them.
      He had prepared himself thoroughly, even meditating, which was unusual for him.  He had replayed Delenn's message, he had thought of Kats, and of Kozorr, and of Deeron, lost to them all.  His mind had hardened, and his anger deepened.
      He had then gone to see Delenn's shrine.  The Shrine of the Unknown Warrior.  He had admired the concept, but had been unable to step inside the construct.  The touch of the ground, consecrated by Vejar, had pained him.  It was a holy place, crafted with a faith that eluded him, and so would not permit him entry.  He knew that in years to come this would be one of the most holy places in the galaxy.
      Still, he had stood there for some minutes, staring at the arch and at the inscriptions, and thinking.  Finally, ready at last, he had gone to seek the Vorlon.
      He came to the door at the end of the corridor, and noticed the breathing masks next to it.  Of course, the Vorlon atmosphere was very different, and very poisonous, which was why they remained in their encounter suits all the time they were outside.  Sinoval knew that for the lie it was.  They did not leave their suits so as to maintain their disguise, and they kept their quarters poisoned like this so as to discourage visitors.
      He did not pick up a breathing mask, nor did he knock at the door.  He simply stood there, waiting.
      A few minutes later the door slid open, and out came the Vorlon.  The eye stalk of its encounter suit swivelled, half in curiosity, half in anger.
      Sinoval raised Stormbringer.  "You have been expecting me, no?  It is time we spoke."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Delenn could not remember ever having seen one of the Shadows before.  At least, not directly, as she was now.  She had seen their ships, and their servants; she had heard their screams, and their whispers.
      And now she could see one.
      Neroon stepped forward slowly, spreading his arms wide.  "Set her free," he implored.  "Let her go free."
      There was a buzzing, a furious cry of betrayal.  And, deep in the heart of the angry scream, there came the soft whisper Delenn understood.  <No.>
      "I have sworn my life to you.... but I swore it to her first.  How many oaths would you have me break?"
      <No.>
      "She does not understand.  Her ways are.... different from yours, from ours....  She is useless to you."
      <She is ours.>
      There was a sudden motion at Delenn's side, and she turned to see Ivanova dart forward, pushing Neroon aside.  The warrior was clearly caught off balance, and he stumbled.
      "Remember me?" cried Ivanova.  "You promised I'd be safe!"  As she spoke she raised her gun, pointed it directly at the Shadow, and fired; once, twice, three times....
      Its roar filled Delenn's mind, and she nearly fell.  Struggling to maintain her balance, she looked up and saw the Shadow move forward.  It was clearly wounded, but it still moved with a grace and speed that surprised her, that seemed so effortless, almost beautiful.  It bore down on Ivanova, who was on her knees, her mouth open in a silent scream, her eyes closed.
      Without thinking, without bothering to remember all that had happened between the two of them, Delenn ran to Ivanova's side, throwing herself in the way.  The Shadow hesitated, its head twitching slightly as it surveyed her.
      <You are ours.>
      "No," said a firm voice.  It was Neroon.  He was standing tall, holding a fighting pike.  There was something strange about it.  The design was unusual.  It looked so old, and yet it shone with a dark power.
      "The third betrayal of my oath," he whispered, his voice solemn.  "Now my doom can take me."
      He moved forward, plunging the pike into the Shadow's side.  This time there was no howl, no scream, no attack.  The First One simply fell.
      "Come," Neroon said to Delenn and Ivanova.  "It is not dead.  We must get to your friend."
      "He's.... here.... somewhere," Ivanova muttered.  "I.... this way!"
      Delenn looked at Neroon tenderly.  "A third betrayal," she whispered.  Warriors had spoken of the significance of the third betrayal for as long as she could remember, but she had never known what it meant.  It was a secret thing, whispered only amongst themselves, in tones of horror and despair and terrible, terrible sadness.
      "It does not matter," he said, lying.  "I have made my choices, each and every step of the way.  I believed in you, I believed in Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, and I believed in them.  Come.... we must leave here."
      "It's this way," Ivanova repeated, heading off along a darkened corridor.  It was leading downwards.  Neroon at her side, Delenn followed.
      The caverns of Z'ha'dum closed in after her, and the very planet itself seemed to tremble.



Into jump gate




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