Babylon 5 07 - The Shadow Within (Cavelos, Jeanne)

by The Shadow Within (Cavelos, Jeanne)

  Favorito and Razor had spent so much time together in confined spaces that they had actually begun to look alike. Although Favorito was white and Razor was black, they were both balding, the fringe of hair remaining to them tied back in a ponytail; they both wore reading glasses perched up on their foreheads, sported scraggly beards often sprinkled with crumbs, and wore comp-pads hanging from their belts. They were nerds, but they were archaeological nerds, and that made them kin. Their relationships seemed to pick up right where they'd left off, with old jokes and insults exchanged.

  It felt good to relax a little. She showed them to the Imperial Hotel, where they would spend the next eight days in tacky opulence before moving into the austere, cramped quarters of the Icarus. Compared to the hotel, the Icarus might even look good. While she waited for them to get settled in, she called up the index of Archaeology Quarterly and read Morden's article. While tight in focus, examining only the Anfras love incantation, it was the most brilliant piece of linguistic work she'd ever come across. He was right: it was "the love that abides no borders."

  She'd always thought the incantation had meant that, in knowing no borders, love could transcend any impediment. But now, in abiding no borders, the incantation suggested that love should stand fo r no impediment. It was a more aggressive philosophy, and it demanded more action from its adherents. She wondered if she had allowed impediments to come between her and John. She didn't believe so; she had never believed their careers and their time apart had been impediments. Yet it had been over a year since they'd spent an extended amount of time with each other. And now it would be at least another six months. If she had really wanted to see him, she should have moved heaven and earth to see him. The thought troubled her. Yet it was nothing compared to what Morden had to face. His wife and daughter were dead. That impediment he could not overcome.

  By the time she'd gotten Favorito and Razor loaded into the tube and down to the Icarus, which was docked in the central landing bay of Station Prime, only a few minutes remained before the mission briefing. She found Dr. Chang on the command deck in discussion with Captain Hidalgo. Chang turned as she approached. He'd changed into his expedition khakis and boots.

  "It looks like you've done an excellent job working with Captain Hidalgo to prep the ship."

  Chang seemed energetic. Perhaps escaping corporate headquarters and his tasseled loafers had raised his spirits.

  "The captain has been very helpful," Anna said.

  In truth, Hidalgo, a short, wiry man, had answered her questions, but he was hardly forthcoming. His philosophy, when it came to archaeologists, anyway, seemed to be to speak only when spoken to. A philosophy to which he continued to adhere.

  "Over fifty percent of our equipment is loaded," Anna said, "and the rest is arriving over the next few days. The ship's systems are all being prepped for the journey. Everything should be ready with two days to spare. Are we still on schedule, Captain Hidalgo?"

  "Yes, Doctor."

  Hidalgo gave the impression that all doctors had blended together long ago in his mind, into one great nameless Doctor. She doubted he knew her name.

  "Dr. Chang," she said, "I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment before the mission briefing."

  Chang nodded.

  "Excuse us, Captain."

  He headed toward the conference room, Anna following a step behind in the narrow passage.

  "I know what you're going to say."

  "I don't think you do," Anna said.

  "I think Petrovich and Standish are here to keep an eye on you, make sure you maintain IPX's priorities."

  He shot her a sharp smile.

  "Very good, Sheridan. You're almost ready to swim with the sharks."

  "Ms. Donne I know is bad news, and I resent the fact that she's taking a slot we needed for an archaeologist. But I think Dr. Morden may be an asset. I don't know how he got on the team or what his agenda is, but he certainly knows his stuff. What's your take on him?"

  "I haven't even met the man. But if I were you, on this trip I would trust no one. You care about people, Sheridan, and on this trip caring is a liability. The only one I trust is you."

  "I trust you," Anna said.

  "Well, maybe you shouldn't," Chang said.

  "I invited you into this madness."

  On that they entered the conference room, and the conversation of the archaeologists inside graded into silence.

  "If everyone will collect their coffee and donuts and take a seat, we will begin."

  The conference room was little more than a cube, barely big enough for the rectangular table, a com station against one wall and a data-processing station and view screen against another. But it was nicer than the facilities they'd had on any other trip. Chang stood at the head of the table, and sitting to his right looking up at him, Anna felt some of the old awe that had faded over the years. Chang was like the old lecturer she knew back at the University of Chicago, his gestures sharp, his voice vibrant, compelling. He knew this was the find of a lifetime, as they all did. Politics couldn't change that. And once the news of their discovery got out, it would become bigger than politics, beyond its influence.

  Listening to him lay out the expedition, she felt the excitement building inside her. Her career, it seemed, had built to this moment, to the discovery of a totally unknown race, a totally unknown technology. After an overview of the mission specs, Chang went around the table and introduced each team member. Beside Anna sat the old friends Favorito, Razor, and Scott, Razor holding his hands up, model like, to high-

  light Scott's new short hair, she yanking his ponytail in return. At the foot of the table sat Donne, her face clenched, determined, to her right Morden, a careful smile on his face, his fingers steepled on the tabletop, beside him Petrovich and Standish, trying a little too hard in Anna's mind to look as if they belonged, and opposite Anna to Chang's left sat Churlstein. It was always important to him to sit near the head of the table, as if he was afraid he would be forgotten otherwise.

  He nodded at everything Chang said, and as he did his eyes swept down the table, insuring that everyone was in support of their leader. Chang made no attempt to explain the presence of Donne or Morden. He simply introduced them, said what organizations they were from, and moved on. No one seemed surprised-they'd probably heard the make-up of the team days ago through the grapevine- except Donne at the introduction of Morden. Though her expression didn't change, her head swiveled in his direction, and their eyes met over Morden's secure smile. He almost seemed pleased at her reaction. After the introductions, Chang began to review the data transmitted by the probe, data that had been conspicuously absent from the mission specs Anna had received.

  "The majority of the surface appears to be made up of two kinds of rock. The mountains, which are extensive, have been formed from igneous rock, while the plains are covered by deposits of sedimentary rock. Sand and dust eroded from these two types of rock have formed eolian deposits in various sheltered areas.

  The atmosphere carries a radioactive residue, the decay patterns of which suggest its decay began approximately one thousand years ago. The nature of the radioactivity-which I leave to the physicists..."

  -the group laughed here, as physicists were generally despised-

  "...is indicative of an artificial source, suggesting a war may have been fought on the planet at that time. No life has been detected above the microscopic level, which may be a result from that war. But the atmosphere is extremely dry, which would aid in the preservation of any organic remains.

  Weather patterns appear violent. Dust storms covering one-quarter of the planet's surface are nearly constant. Some constituent of the dust is causing sporadic disruption in our communications with the probe and some image distortion. But I think you'll find the results quite impressive." With a touch he activated the view screen on the wall behind him. A static-distorted image appeared of rocky terrain stretching toward sharp distant mountains. The atmosphere was a reddish brow
n, the same color as the rock, clouded by intermittent gusts of dust. The landscape appeared harsh, desolate. As the probe panned to the left, a tall thin finger of stone appeared in the foreground, covered with vague runes. As the probe continued to turn, more pillars were revealed, at varying distances. They stretched as far as the eye could see."

  "Surviving structures include numerous inscribed pillars, obviously not natural formations, ranging from one hundred to one hundred fifty yards high. These pillars are spaced at a constant distance of 2.43 miles from each other, and are spread over the entire area the probe has scanned thus far. They are made of the native sedimentary rock. Other structures..."

  -he pointed to a scattering of large, worn hexagonal blocks of stone that had just come into the foreground-

  "...made of the same rock existed in this area, though they did not survive while the pillars did. A fascinating paradox. In the background, you'll notice the mountain profile contains some spiky anomalies that suggest artificial constructs. The probe has not visited that area yet."

  "The most exciting find was discovered at the base of the tallest pillar scanned thus far."

  A new image appeared on the screen, more static-distorted than the previous ones. The probe panned down the length of a huge pillar perhaps twenty yards away. At its base an ovoid object sat in shadow, only its silhouette visible.

  "The egg, as I've been calling it, is approximately ten yards high, fifteen yards long."

  About the size of a house, Anna thought.

  "While the visual is unclear, preliminary scans indicate that the egg is riddled with numerous indentations and tunnels, almost, perhaps, like a piece of Piridian sculpture."

  He flipped through a series of scans then, which revealed a twisting, intricate structure honeycombing the object. Anna wished he would go slower and cover the data in more depth. She saw similarities to the mouse, though this object was much more complex.

  "These irregularities indicate a color mottling on the surface of the object that appears almost runic in structure. These mottling patterns continue within the holes and tunnels. They may form lettering of some kind, though how they were created is unclear. While we initially assumed the egg w as carved from the same sedimentary rock as the pillars, test results were inconclusive. Some indicated that the egg had an electronic component; others showed biological characteristics. A resonance scan then revealed the most fascinating aspect of the egg."

  He switched to a new visual, which Anna recognized with excitement.

  "It has a heartbeat. This is when I made the connection to Sheridan's mouse, which I'll let her discuss in a few minutes. RNA screens confirmed that the protein fingerprint of the planet matched that of the mouse."

  Anna had no idea they'd found something of this significance. This biomechanical organism was incredibly more complex than the mouse. And it appeared in excellent condition. If they already knew about one surviving biomechanical device on the planet, there would most likely be others. She wondered what its function might be.

  The other scientists were whispering to each other, totally amazed at what they had seen. Morden turned her way, his smile now replaced by a more subtle expression of genuine curiosity. Donne's face had gone blank, her mouth tilted at a forgotten angle.

  "The probe, as you know," Chang continued, "is running a preprogrammed pattern of investigation and testing. We may change general directives for the probe at this point, but my sense is that it would be premature-no matter how much I want more testing on that egg. We only found the egg because the probe was carrying out its preprogrammed pattern, which is designed for optimum use of time and energy. I'm afraid that by interfering we may miss an equally exciting find. Once we're about a week and a half into our journey, we'll be close enough that we can take direct control of the probe. Doing so sooner than that, because of the distances involved, would create a dangerous time delay between our directives and the probe's responses. Most of you have experienced smaller time delays and know that they can easily lead to accidents and the destruction of the probe. So we're just going to have to wait until then.

  You now have access to all the data, which are updated on a real-time basis. I want you to study them and get me your recommendations for our most efficient use of the probe."

  Chang sat.

  "Now I'll have Dr. Sheridan tell you about her experience with the mouse."

  Anna described her discovery of the mouse, the characteristics she had observed, and the conclusion she had drawn that it was a biomechanical device of some kind. She tried to convey the sensations she had received from the mouse, and how those had led to her decision to bring in a telepath. At that point, Dr. Chang interrupted.

  "The telepathic contact seemingly triggered the mouse to explode," Chang said, his words aimed at Donne.

  "That's all we know at this point. I've made test results on the mouse available to you also, and there are a few surviving fragments I'm keeping under lock and key if you'd like to have additional tests run. If there are no questions..."

  "Excuse me," Morden said, with his fixed smile.

  "I wanted to ask Sheridan about this mouse."

  Chang began picking at the callus on his index finger. It was obvious that Morden knew Chang was covering up something, and he was circling in on it.

  "You say you felt you were in some sort of telepathic contact with it. Do you think if you had concentrated harder, or sustained your contact with it, that you could have triggered the explosion?"

  Anna chose her words carefully.

  "I really don't know. But my instinct tells me that my contact with the mouse was of a much lesser intensity than that of the telepath. It felt almost like my own mind wandering, like dreaming that I'm hearing someone else's thoughts in a dream. Not like what I've read the telepathic experience is like at all."

  "Only Ms. Donne could tell us that, I suppose."

  Anna realized then that Morden's smile was sometimes genuine, sometimes not. The trick was figuring out which and when. The room fell into an awkward silence.

  "Dr. Chang," Ms. Donne said, "will you be focusing the expedition on this egg?"

  "It would be premature to make a commitment like that. Yet at this point it does seem a find of major importance."

  "Is there more data on it?"

  Chang tilted his head curiously.

  "Yes, the probe's records are available for downloading, if you'd care to study them."

  After a hesitation, he picked up where he had left off.

  "We have only eight days until launch. There's a lot to do. Study the data and get your recommendations to Sheridan. Coordinate through her."

  There was some impassioned speculation as the team broke up. Anna managed to excuse herself and caught up with Donne about twenty feet down the narrow passage.

  "I wanted to officially welcome you to the team. I wasn't aware of your archaeological expertise."

  Donne gave a tight, humorless smile, the skin wrinkling under the small D-shaped scar on her cheek.

  "I'm not on your team, Dr. Sheridan. At least give me some credit for admitting that, unlike that sleaze Morden. If I were you, I'd be keeping your eyes on him."

  "Thanks for the advice."

  Donne must be great at her job, Anna thought, whatever it was. Her personality certainly didn't win her any brownie points.

  "So what can we expect you to contribute to this expedition?"

  "If there's any technology uncovered that poses a threat to telepaths, I'm here to make sure Psi Corps knows about it. Without me on site, we'd never hear about it. You mundanes at IPX would have the whole thing packaged, marketed, and sold to the highest bidder...

  - most likely Morden -

  ...and we wouldn't find out about it until telepaths' brains started turning to jelly."

  Anna's fist came to her mouth.

  "How is Terrence?"

  "Mr. Hilliard is the way Mr. Hilliard will be for the rest of his life. Mr. Hilliard is jelly."

/>   Donne continued down the passage. Anna had been hoping that they'd been able to break Terrence out of it. Somewhere inside she had even believed it. It seemed impossible that in a few moments the mouse could have so trapped his mind. She brought her fist away from her mouth, opening it to reveal the pattern of calluses that had grown up over years of digs. Climbing in and out of pits, up and down from cliffs, detecting the subtle edges of a buried object, digging carefully into tiny recesses, sensing weaknesses, fractures.

  No matter how advanced the tools, there was no substitute for touch, for the sensitivity and delicacy of control of the hand. She'd paid little notice to the injuries to her hands, well willing to trade a little skin and a little sensitivity for the thrill of discovery. She'd even come to see them as badges of knowledge and expertise. A callus was the body's response to repeated injury and irritation. She wondered if the memory of Terrence, over time, would create a new callus, one that would lessen her sensitivity. She didn't know whether to hope for that or not. Perhaps it had already begun. She had surrendered him with relief to Psi Corps.

  Her overriding concern had been for her standing at IPX and her continued access to the mouse fragments. And now she'd let Chang and Donne cover up what had happened to him. It was as if he hadn't even existed. She ran her fingers over her palm. The injuries of the past created a hard, protective layer, on the hand or on the soul. As an archaeologist her job was to uncover the past, to remove the protective layer, to reveal the wound. She believed inherently in the value of the past, and in its presence in and influence on the present. People were in many senses controlled by the past, even though they might not know it. The wound, even through its covering, influenced them. Yet could there be no lessening of pain over time, no escape from injuries and passions, mistakes and humiliations?

  Could there be no healing without a loss of sensitivity, of memory? She never wanted to forget Terrence. She never wanted to forget what she had done to him. But if she felt her guilt as intensely as she had felt it when the accident had first happened, she wouldn't be able to function. Without a callus, what was the alternative? An open wound.