"It is certainly possible the Vorlons are but using us in their war with the Shadows. Certainly, some of their behaviour has been.... erratic, not to mention questionable." Sinoval knew what he was referring to. G'Kar knew the truth, as did he and Mollari and as the technomage. Delenn had gone to Z'ha'dum, not abducted by a Shadow agent as many chose to believe, but at the order of the Vorlons.
"However, we cannot win this war without their aid. We have tried, and we have done.... better than I dared dream. Our very presence here is proof enough that we have achieved some triumphs.
"But I have seen the fleets of the Enemy. I was a part of the Great Machine for over two years, and all its vast power was mine. The Machine could not hold against the forces of the Enemy. If all that ancient, wondrous technology fell.... then how can we be expected to win without the aid of the Vorlons?"
"We have Cathedral."
"Soul Hunters," said Taan Churok. "You ask us to trust takers of souls over Vorlons? You ask us to believe in those who deny the warriors their paths to Droshalla's kingdom?"
"The Soul Hunters do not imprison anything or anyone. I have made a bargain with them, on terms both of us have agreed to. They mean you no harm, not now, not while I live, and not after I am gone."
"Certain of that, are you?"
"It does not matter who can be trusted more," spoke up G'Kar. "I have.... thought greatly on what you said at our last meeting, Primarch Sinoval, and on what I saw.... We need the Vorlons. Without them we will all be dead, if not today then tomorrow. Surely their price is not.... not too high a price to pay for our lives."
"And if it is?"
"If it is, then we will deal with that later.... when the time comes. But for this moment, for this instant, we need them."
"I think the Primarch.... may have some wisdom," spoke up Londo suddenly. Sinoval looked at the Centauri Emperor. His initial assessment had been proved wrong, and he had been forced to re-evaluate it. There was hidden strength within the man, and a greater wisdom than was readily apparent. However, he would always put the needs of his people first. A fine and laudable aim.... but it would end up crippling everything all of them fought for.
"I turned down an alliance with the Vorlons, because their.... representative did not offer as much as he seemed to. I was wary about becoming involved in this war, and I still am. Shadow and Vorlon, elder races all.... let them fight. Why can we not pull back and leave them to it, and say good riddance to both of them? Let us work together to create peace, not a furtherance of bloody war."
"Centauri cowardice," muttered Taan Churok under his breath.
"You know me," replied Mollari angrily. "I was here, on this planet. I saw the suffering the Drakh caused to the people here. I lived through it every bit as much as you did! Do not call me a coward.
"Yes, I have seen the evil of the Drakh, but they are gone now, their fleet destroyed, yes? So it was I heard. Why do we fight against their masters? We have built a peace from the Drakh invasion. Can we not be satisfied with that, and work on?"
"No," said Sinoval. "I wish we could, but neither Shadow nor Vorlon will leave us alone. They war, not with fleets or weapons or soldiers as we do, but through us. They toy with us, directing us to wars, manipulating us to conflicts, to alliances, to chains we cannot throw off until it is too late.
"We must be rid of them both.
"I have something to show you all.... Something to prove that I mean what I say." He gently laid the holographic projector on the table in front of him. He did not want to do this. He did not want to relive Delenn's last message one more time, to look at the face of her compassion and her courage and her self-sacrifice.
But he had to.
"No!" said a voice. "You mean nothing of what you say."
It was Vizhak. He stormed into the room, his face in a black fury. "I hear you come here. I hear you come here to talk of peace. I hear these things while on homeworld.
"And while on homeworld, I hear of Drazi ships attacked. Drazi merchant ships attacked. Carrying food and medicine for wounded Drazi soldiers.
"Drazi ships attacked by Minbari ships."
* * *
Why did you come here?
You know why.
Humour an old, old man. Why did you come here?
That was the price the Vorlons demanded of me to save John. I had to come here in payment for them curing him. I.... hoped to do as much damage here as I could before I died, but.... the technomages betrayed me. You know all this, surely.
Yes, I do. But that was not the question I asked. I know you came here to save another, but why?
Why? How can you ask that? I love him!
Is it truly love? Or merely guilt? Remember his wife, dead all these years. Remember his world, his friends.
I love him!
A true love?
Yes!
Such that you would give your life for his?
Yes! I came here. Surely that proves as much?
It was not guilt, then? Not a means of compensation for everything you have done to him and his people?
....
Ah. Silence. Have you ever thought about that?
Yes. I have.... wondered.... Sometimes. I do love him. I do.
But were you willing to give your life for his out of this love, or because of your sense of guilt?
I love him.... but.... these times need him more than me. Kazomi Seven needs a warrior now, not a healer. I am not a warrior. John is.
And when the war is over, if it ever can be over.... When you win, what then? Who will be left to heal the wounds of the war?
But without the warriors, we will never win. I have thought of all this.
Perhaps. What of Neroon?
He is dead, isn't he?
Yes.
Could you save him?
I cannot create life. Only the universe can do that, but yes.... I suppose I could save him, extend his life for a brief period, repair damage and heal wounds, but he would not thank either of us if I did. His doom was set, you know.
You said nothing was written in stone.
Nothing is. Nothing is inevitable, but I have seen his soul, his pattern. He would die sooner or later. All beings do. This is the way he would have wished to die, a true warrior's death, defending his true love.
He still loved me, then?
He did.
And he died because of me. Another one.
Another death at your door? I suppose so. All beings die eventually.
Except you.
Ah. True, but then, just as all beings die, so are all beings immortal. Neroon's soul has returned to the universe, gone back to the weave to be threaded and given form once more. Mortal beings gain immortality through their children, or through their rebirth. I am immortal simply because I am not yet dead. My people.... are not reborn, as yours are.
Why not?
A sacrifice we made long ago. A necessary one. I am the last of my people, the last one left. I chose to remain here, to observe and to wait.
To wait? For me?
For someone. For a meeting. This meeting. Soon I will be able to rest. But there are some things that must be done first.
What things?
Ah.... that very much depends on you.
* * *
"Ow!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby."
"Are you deliberately trying to cause me the maximum amount of pain possible?"
"Trust me, you'd know if I was."
Dexter Smith was used to pain, or so he thought. In his childhood he had been shot at, stabbed, punched, pushed off things and pushed on to things. In his adult life he had been pushed to the limits of endurance in his training in Earthforce and in his time as a soldier and captain. And more recently he had been stabbed and punched in a particularly unpleasant fight with a group of thugs.
But none of that compared to the tender loving care of his companion.
"How come you never got hurt anyway?" he asked.
"Maybe they
didn't want to hurt a lady?" Talia said with a smile. "Or maybe they underestimated me. People tend to do that around me, I can't think why."
"I never will. Ow!"
"Oh, stop it. I think that was a compliment, was it?"
"Not as such. I learned not to underestimate you a long time ago. If you remember, it was right after you hid on my ship for six months right under my nose and then blew up a huge chunk of it."
"Oh, yes. That."
"Yes. That."
There was an awkward pause, as she resumed bandaging his cut arm. He wasn't sure just how deep the wound was, but the whole area was numb and he had problems flexing the muscles there. There had been a fair amount of blood as well. And, given that the two of them could not go anywhere near a hospital, this limited amount of care was the best he could hope for.
"It.... it wasn't anything personal, you know," she said finally. "It wasn't anything against you, or your ship. I just had to slow things down. I had to give Al enough time to get things going elsewhere. I didn't...." She paused. "I mean, I thought you were a good captain."
"Actually," he said softly. "I meant to thank you. I was angry as hell at the time, but now.... Having looked back on that.... Thank you. You kept me away from Minbar. I.... wouldn't have liked to have.... been there. Not according to what I heard, anyway."
She sat back on her heels, looking at him closely. "They were our enemies," she said. "Well, your enemies, anyway."
"I hadn't met any before. Well, I've only met one now, but.... Does it make it right, us doing to them what they did to us? Doesn't it just make us as bad as they were?"
She shrugged. "There are some things you have to do."
"Yes, I get that. I mean, safeguard our worlds and our families, fine. Destroy their military capabilities, no problem. Even capture their rulers and put them on trial.... that's all okay. But ruining their homeworld.... poisoning the atmosphere, the oceans, the ground? The whole thing just seems.... an act of spite. Childish spite. You know.... you broke my toy, so I'll break yours."
"Earth was a little more than a toy."
"I guess. I've never actually been there. I was born here on Proxima."
"I.... I don't think I've been to Earth. Maybe when I was a little girl. My earliest memories are of the Psi Corps training base on Mars. That was one of the main bases, not the subsidiary ones. That was my home almost all my life. All my friends were there."
"I'm.... sorry."
"Don't be. Al got out everyone he could. Unlike the.... mundanes, we had somewhere to go. He took us all to Sanctuary. I wasn't much more than a teenager at the time. I remember all the chaos, all the people running around desperately trying to pack things and get everything sorted out. It's funny, but I left my diary behind, and I was so filled with panic that someone would find it and read it." Smith looked at her, and she chuckled. "What?"
"I'm trying to imagine what could have been in your diary when you were a teenager."
"None of your business!" she laughed. "Didn't you keep a diary?"
"Not around here, I didn't. I don't know, I always thought a diary was a place to.... you know, write down all the things you dreamed of doing, and then looking back when you're a grown-up and realising just how little you managed. I knew I wouldn't manage anything, so what was the point of writing down things that would never come true?"
"Pessimistic," she noted.
"Life in the Pit was like that."
"Even when you found out you were.... one of us."
"A telepath, you mean?" She nodded, and he sighed. "Talia, I get hunches from time to time, and.... vague ideas of what someone's feeling. I can't read minds, I can't do scans, and I can't talk mind to mind. I'm not a telepath."
"You have our genes. You are one of us, whatever you think."
He sighed, and shook his head. "How are you doing anyway? Have the sleepers worn off yet?"
She made a face. "Not yet. Another few hours, I think. It's.... weird. It's like.... having lived all your life in a place with loud music coming from the next room, and the music has suddenly stopped dead. I've got so used to being able to tell what someone's thinking, and now.... I know they'll come back, and I know there's more to me than just my powers, but still.... It's.... difficult."
"So, you can tell what people are thinking?" He looked worried.
"Most of the time. Strong emotions, mainly."
"Then, you could tell some things I've.... been thinking?"
"Some of the time. I'll teach you how to block your thoughts, if you like. It doesn't take too much skill or power."
"That would be.... helpful."
"For both of us. Some of your thoughts.... really shouldn't be directed in the presence of a lady."
"Let me know where one is, and I'll take that advice." She headed back to his arm, and continued bandaging. "That was a joke. You do know that was a.... Ow!"
"Sorry. My hand slipped."
"I'll bet. Ouch!"
* * *
The skies above Kazomi 7 shimmered, and a jump point opened.
"Home at last," said the voice of the Babylon's second in command. Despite the cheeriness of his words, he was feeling anything but happy. Nothing about this mission had gone right. Not a thing. They had gone to Z'ha'dum to rescue Delenn, only to learn that she was dead. How the Captain had known this he was not sure, but Delenn was gone now.
On top of that, the Babylon's telepath Lyta Alexander was in a coma. The doctor was unable to identify what was wrong with her, other than some symptoms of exhaustion.
And as if that weren't enough, the Captain had not said a single word since they had entered hyperspace at Z'ha'dum. He merely sat in his chair on the bridge, not eating, not sleeping, doing nothing but sit and brood the whole journey back.
And now that they were back, Corwin's bad feeling was worsening.
"Captain.... Commander," said the helm tech, Guerra. "Um.... There's something here, in orbit around the planet. The instruments don't seem to recognise it. Not a ship, but...."
"What is it?" asked Corwin. The Captain did not seem to react.
"No, we have got it on record. The Morningstar sent the details over after the Battle of Minbar. It's the Soul Hunter base. It's called...."
"Cathedral," muttered Corwin. He breathed out slowly, unsure whether this was a good thing, or a bad thing.
Or a very very bad thing.
"Cathedral," said the Captain suddenly, his eyes glinting. "Well, well." He sat forward. "So, Primarch Sinoval's come for a visit.
"Won't this be interesting?"
Chapter 2
Why are you asking me all these questions?
The power to question is the greatest gift the universe has given her children. For only by questioning the things we see around us can any of us grow. The sense of wonder, of mystery, of puzzles to be solved.... Where would anyone be if we knew the answers to all the questions ever asked? What would there be left to aim for with all the knowledge of the universe at our fingertips?
Not even you know everything?
I am no nearer to knowing the answers to all the mysteries of life than you are. I may have had more time to ponder them, but that has only brought home to me just how little any of us knows.
Then what mystery are you trying to solve now?
You.
What?
Ah. I apologise. Let me be clearer. Nothing is written in stone, as we have said already. There are prophecies spoken of, yes. There are flashes of what is to come, brief hints as we pass the veil of time to look forward or back. But few things are definite, solid, precise. We live, we grow old, we die. That is the truth for all things.
Apart from you.
I will die, in due time. Even the universe herself will die someday. Maybe I will still be here then. I was not the only member of my race born in this place, you know. The first generation of my people.... we do not die as you do, but injury, illness, war.... They have plagued us every bit as much as they do you. I still live only b
ecause I have not yet succumbed.
You were saying something about the future.
Ah, yes. My mind wanders from time to time. I do apologise.
Accepted.
As I was saying, nothing is definite, but there are.... patterns that may be traced by those with the skill to do so. Certain divinations, certain paths may be spotted. Through subtle manipulations and delicate calculations it is possible to shape the course of the future as you desire. The Vorlons have grown skilled at this over the many years they have lived. That was why they sent you here, as part of a shaping of the future.
And that's why they saved John?
I assume he is a vital component in the future they wish to shape. But they are not the only ones with that skill. The technomages, the Soul Hunters, the inhabitants of this world, those you know as the Shadows.... all have been trying to mould the course of destiny. The technomages are bound by certain laws of conduct, and the Soul Hunters are still tied to the oaths exacted from them by the Well of Souls. Once, the Vorlons and the Shadows were bound by oaths, but they have long since forgotten such things.
What oath?
Why, to protect and to guide the younger races. As the majority of the First Ones left this galaxy to pass beyond the Rim to the next, they chose to remain, shepherds to the younger races. Each advocated a different path: chaos and struggle and endeavour on the one hand; precise order and discipline on the other.
But.... they failed?
Over time it became simply a matter of proving which side was right.
Yes. He was.... a part of me.
I know. He remembered. He was one of the last. Now Vorlon and Shadow war indiscriminately, forgetting their original purpose. Their wars will not last forever, though. An ending will come soon, in a year, or ten, or a hundred, or a thousand. An ending will come.
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