A Dark, Distorted Mirror. Volume 4. A Future, Born in Pain addm-4

by Gareth D. Williams

  "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.

  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."

  "Sound
s 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.

  "I have sworn my life to you.... but I swore it to her first. How many oaths would you have me break?"

 

  "She does not understand. Her ways are.... different from yours, from ours.... She is useless to you."

 

  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.

 

  "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.

  Chapter 4

  The oldest being in the galaxy had been waiting for a very long time. He had come here originally to speak to his children, and to try to help them to understand. None of his other children had, but he had hoped beyond all hope that these would.

  They had not.

  However, he remembered the way the planet had seemed to react to his setting foot on it. There had been a tremble, and then a soft whisper. As he sometimes did, he had experienced a revelation of the days yet to come, of a crucial change in the endless war, of someone who would come to help end the combat.

  Someone who would come here. There would be a meeting here, a meeting that would change the galaxy forever, and herald the beginning of the end times for him.