In love with the machine. Serving the machine. Serving them. The creature's eyes cut into her, distant stars of icy fire, reminding her of the emptiness she was to face. Would it be so bad to serve them willingly? To serve their hunger, their need, their fire and destruction? Was she willing to put a border between her and John, a border that could never be crossed? Was she willing to desert him? She had to. If she served them willingly, she would lose herself as surely as if she melded with the machine. She had failed the team. She didn't want to fail herself. No excavations. No friendships. No life with John. No life as she knew it. This border would have to be abided. She reached a bloody hand into the darkness, seized a chitin-hard limb. It flowed like liquid shadow through her fingers, and in that instant, in that unguarded moment of contact, she finally understood them perfectly.
They were older than the oldest artifact she had ever found; they knew the ancient secrets of galaxies, and of the races who populated them, whom they used and manipulated with ravenous malice. They walked in the spaces between stars, in the spaces between molecules. They moved behind the scenes, in shadow, their presence everywhere, their influence in everything. They reveled in chaos, in conflict, in hate, in pain, in suffering. It called to them like music, and they orchestrated it like music. And they would not rest until the universe played them a symphony in fire. They were the past the universe could not escape. They were the answer to Where did we come from? and Where are we going? And she was one of the first to be swept up in the currents of this past and future history. To the final question-What significance can my life possibly have?-she had no answer, except that she had loved, and learned, and fought, all with passion and all to the best of her abilities, and perhaps those who came after would learn from what had happened to her and the crew of the Icarus. But in any case, she would never give up. No matter what they did, no matter how deeply they buried her inside of a machine, she would hold tight to the core of herself. And she would not go quietly. Her cry was hard.
"So be it."
CHAPTER 18
The ship's singing had grown impatient, eager for activity. Kosh didn't know why he remained. Delenn had failed to have the Earth vessel recalled. The humans had violated the ancient home of the shadows. Their message had barely had the strength to penetrate the atmosphere and reach his ship, a short distance away. None of the humans' vessels would have had the ability to detect it. He had seen the woman, heard the fear in her voice, the anger at lies. The humans consumed themselves with lies. This woman even lied to herself, sending a message she knew would not reach Earth, knew would not bring help. He should leave, before his ship was detected. And yet he remained. Waiting. As he had waited for three years. For what must happen. The ship's song quickened. It perceived movement. The Earth vessel was rising clear of the atmosphere. Crude and ill-proportioned, it blasted its way out of the gravity well and took a course away from the planet and the rim. The ship ceased its singing to play a message it perceived from the Earth vessel. A computer voice said, "This is a distress call from the Earth science vessel Icarus. Our engines have reached critical parameters. Please respond with aid.
"The automatic message repeated."
Kosh directed the ship to look inside the Earth vessel. It was empty of life. The ship was quiet, puzzled. Kosh waited. The vessel continued a short distance, then, with a series of bright sparks, exploded in the silence of space. Fragments tumbled away into the darkness. He broke the silence.
"The avalanche begins."
Kosh directed the ship onto a new course, and with a joyful song it spread its petals and sped ahead. Now he could leave. Now he could go to Babylon 5. Jeff felt the muscles at the back of his neck relax as Ambassador Delenn approached the reception line. Since Ambassador Kosh had sent word that he would not make it in time for the dedication ceremony, Jeff had begun to worry that the whole ceremony would disintegrate before his eyes. Delenn's ship had not been expected until the last moment, and even though he'd been informed of her arrival a few minutes ago, he hadn't known whether she would come to the ceremony or not, considering their last conversation. Without her or Kosh, the ceremony would be little more than empty posturing. With her, it might truly mean s omething. He, Garibaldi, and the rest of the security staff had finally, for one precious moment, gotten everything and everyone in order. All ambassadors and representatives had been lined up in the anteroom in a sequence acceptable, if not pleasing, to all of them. All malfunctions were repaired. All criminals were detained. All chaos was eliminated. All crises were resolved. Except one. Jeff went to meet her.
"Ambassador, I'm so glad you could make it. The dedication ceremony would be meaningless without you."
"I do support the purpose of this station, Commander, though the Earth Government has given me reason to question its commitment."
Jeff showed her to her place at the head of the line, beside him.
"I look forward to the opportunity to prove that commitment."
She looked up at him, and for a moment he thought, perhaps, that he had made a connection.
"I look forward to that also, Commander."
Then the door beside him slid open, and the press secretary came through at the head of her party. She announced to the room, "The President of the Earth Alliance, Luis Santiago." The president shook Jeff's hand.
"Congratulations on putting this all together, Commander. You've done a terrific job. We're counting on you."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
As the First Lady took Jeff's hand, the president moved on to Ambassador Delenn. Steepling his fingers at chest level, President Santiago bowed in the Minbari fashion.
"It is truly an honor to meet you, Ambassador." She reciprocated.
"We have come a long way to this moment," she said.
"Perhaps we can go a long way farther."
She extended her hand to shake his, and they did.
"I hope that we can," the president said.
Jeff realized that he was witnessing the birth of a totally new type of interaction between the races, without threats, without fear. Babylon 5 would be the place for this interaction. It would foster understanding, compassion. It was the dawn of a new age for mankind.
* * *
Outside the Agamemnon hung Babylon 5, a shining jewel in the night. Surrounding it were ships from every major race, save the Vorlons, arrayed in proud formation. John felt that he was present at a key moment in history, a turning point. Despite the failure of the previous four Babylon stations, despite the threat to this one, it had survived, and perhaps it could now fulfill its promise. He'd invited Ross and Spano to the command deck for the ceremonies, and as he studied their profiles, the pride he saw there made him believe that they, too, would fulfill their promise. The ceremonies were being piped through the com system throughout the ship, and as President Santiago took his turn as the final speaker, they all listened.
"This has been a historic day, and I am honored to close these ceremonies with the dedication of Babylon 5. Dedication is an interesting word. We have faced many adversities in the building of this place. Forces surround us in opposition to this cause: forces within the universe, and forces within ourselves; forces from the past, and forces of the future. But we have not given up. We have remained dedicated to its cause. And it is this dedication, I believe, that has created this shining beacon in space, and this dedication that will lead to the fulfillment of its cause. We cannot allow this dedication to falter, even for a moment to lose sight of our better natures, for we stand at a crossroads in history, and our actions now will light us down in honor or dishonor to the last generation. We must remain dedicated to this station and its promise, for Babylon 5 is our last, best hope for peace.
"John gave an astonished smile as he recognized the quote from Lincoln, his favorite president."
"It is with this belief that I hereby dedicate this station, this hope, Babylon 5, to peace."
The crew broke out in applause. John felt so proud to be
a part of this, to be a part of Earth-force. The moment seemed infinitely precious, and momentous. He wished Anna were here to be a part of this, a part of history with him.
"Captain," the communications officer said.
"General Lochschmanan on Gold Channel."
Odd that he would call now, John thought. The Agamemnon was scheduled for repairs.
"Put him through."
The moment he appeared, John knew something was wrong. The general's normally impeccable posture was slightly off. His torso hung slightly forward over his desk, anxious. John's mind raced to think what it might be, unable to come up with anything.
"I'm sorry, John, I have some bad news. I think you may want to take this in private."
It almost sounded like the calls he made to the families of servicemen who had died.
"What is it?" he said, finding himself breathless.
The answer became irrelevant, because in the moment between his question and the answer, John knew the only answer it could be. It was an answer he had never imagined to hear as long as he lived, an answer that would end his life as he knew it and turn him into someone else, someone incomplete, someone he passionately did not want to be, someone without her. He gulped back a sob, the truth catching in his throat. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. Had he saved all of these useless people, only to let her die?
"There's been a terrible accident, John."
Out of the cold and dark, it spoke to her. It explained the secret life of circuits, the joys of circulation and cleansing, the elegance of neurons firing in perfect harmony. It showed her the sublime beauty of itself, a machine vast, elegant, the upsweep of its bones towering dark in the vault of the universe, the subtle shifting patterns on its skin, the perfection of its internal pathways, form and function integrated into the circuitry of the unbroken loop. It taught her the dizzying delight of movement, the grace of flexion, the tight, precise focus of the beam, the joy of the war shriek. All the systems of the machine would pass through her; she would be its heart; she would be the machine. She would keep the systems coordinated, keep the complex, multileveled machine operating in synch, the beat of the song of its life a march that must never miss a note. The skin of the machine would be her skin; its bones and blood, her bones and blood.
And yet here, still, she could feel her body, a limp, useless thing, crude and primitive, yet cold, and longing for touch, longing to be enveloped in his touch- John, the one who held her in the dark and made her warm. The one she would never see again. He would love the machine. She loved the machine. It was ageless, mighty, never tiring, never slowing. Unified in purpose, efficient in function, it was the perfect mechanism, a closed universe, an integrated loop whose life beat out again and again, a repeated pattern that would never end. It explained the secret life of circuits, the joys of circulation and cleansing, the elegance of neurons firing in perfect harmony. It towered dark in the vault of the sky. It was the machine, and the machine was the universe.
THE END
(C) 1997 Dell Books
Babylon 5 07 - The Shadow Within (Cavelos, Jeanne) Page 22