Babylon 5 16 - Techno-Mages 01 - Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne)

by Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne)

  A shadow spread across their faces. The vision focused on two figures within the crowd. They were G'Leel's parents, their faces filled with terror. With a wave of his hand he made the image vanish.

  G'Leel took a deep breath.

  "Is that the future?" she asked Isabelle.

  "It's a possible future."

  "Is it too late to ask for the version where you just tell me what I want to hear?"

  Isabelle smiled.

  "Take the step. You're a good person. You want to do it."

  G'Leel lowered her head. Her gloved hands closed around the broken chair back.

  "I've been to the Thenothk system on the rim three times. That name appears on none of our charts. Only our captain knows the system's coordinates. I have no idea which of the thousands of systems on the rim it might be.

  When we reach the last jump gate on the line, he sends us all to our quarters. We travel four days, until we're far from everything, and then another ship meets us. It forms a jump point, and we travel with it through hyperspace to the Thenothk system. I figured that much from the sounds of the ship. But I had to see what Captain Ko'Vin was hiding from us. On our last run, I left my quarters. The ship that came for us - I could swear it screamed, though I know that's impossible. It was black as space, and bristled with arms."

  Galen held up his hands, visualized the equation to create an image between them. He made the image black: with many arms. G'Leel looked up, saw it.

  "No. The arms to the side and back, not to the front. Long, and tapering to points. The central shape more flattened. Yes. That's it. And it had a way of moving - I can't really explain it. It seemed alive."

  The image between his hands was sleek, alien, disturbing. Yet familiar. The ancient Narn holy book, the Book of G'Quan, contained a drawing of a similar shape, which it associated with a darkness that had fallen upon the land. If these were the Shadows' ships, then they had acquired an important piece of information. Galen dissolved the illusion.

  "You don't recognize the image?" Isabelle asked.

  G'Leel frowned.

  "Recognize it? No."

  Her red eyes flicked between Galen and Isabelle.

  "A huge city is growing on the fourth planet of the Thenothk system. Each time we go, it's fifty times the size it was. Millions are migrating there. A. race called the Drakh are going in great numbers. And some are being brought against the ir will. Our hold carries twenty sleeper tubes, each one containing a Human mind walker. A telepath. I don't know why they're being taken. But I don't like it.

  On the planet, I see a few Humans, Narns, Drazi. But most are species I've never seen before. In the bars-where we spend most of our time - I've overheard talk of war. And I've heard a name - I don't know if it means anything. The Shadows."

  Galen's eyes met Isabelle's. We have a piece of evidence, he wrote. At last. It is as Burell feared.

  "What is it?" G'Leel asked.

  "Who are the Shadows?"

  "They are an ancient race," Isabelle said.

  "At rest for a thousand years. They have powers far beyond ours, and a thirst for warfare. Now they have awakened again. They are spoken of in the Book of G'Quan, and the very ship you described is pictured there."

  "You take those religious myths seriously?"

  "Myth begins in history."

  G'Leel rubbed a finger across her lip.

  "I'm not a reader. But if I'd known it had pictures..."

  Through Burell's probes, Galen saw Captain Ko'Vin step out from the elevator into the lobby. He knew they had only another minute or two with G'Leel.

  "Have you heard of a planet called Z'ha'dum? It is the legendary home of the Shadows."

  "I've heard that word I didn't know it was a place."

  "Do you have any idea when the Shadows will be ready for war?"

  G'Leel shook her head. She heard the captain's voice and looked toward the lobby. Cadmus was giving the captain his present. There was still time.

  "Who would know?" Isabelle asked.

  "Who gives your captain his directions?"

  "There's a Drakh here, in the port. The Drakh sets up our shipments and schedules. The captain told me once how much he hates working with this Drakh. I think the Drakh frightens him."

  All Galen knew of the Drakh was that, according to legend, they were allies of the Shadows.

  "Where is this Drakh?" he asked.

  "I don't know. He stays out of sight. But Ko'Vin will meet with him before we leave. He owes us pay, and the captain never forgets pay."

  G'Leel looked over her shoulder, then back.

  "Have you ever met a Drakh?"

  "No," Isabelle said.

  "There's something out about them. They're different. Be careful."

  She looked from Isabelle to Galen, shook her head.

  "You're too young for this."

  G'Leel stood, and Isabelle laid a hand over hers.

  "You are a good person. You're going to make an important contribution in the conflict ahead. You have already been a great help."

  G'Leel's mouth tightened, and she drew in a breath. When she let it out, her stiff posture relaxed a bit. She was relieved to have told them. Isabelle had known she would be.

  Captain Ko'Vin stepped into the lounge. He called out in Narn and the program translated. G'Leel, there you are. I need you to carry something back to the ship for me.

  You aren't going to believe it!

  Coming, G'Leel responded.

  The captain stepped out of the doorway, then leaned back in.

  Getting your fortune told? G'Leel, if you crave my love, you can just tell me directly G'Leel rolled her eyes,

  "I hope I helped," she said under her breath.

  She turned and strode across the room to her captain. As G'Leel and Ko'Vin went into the lobby, Galen picked up their words through the lobby probe, and they were translated. The manager has given us some breen. We'll have to stay here every time we come, just to get more. Unless it's bad. Then we'll stay here to punish him.

  They laughed. Galen took Isabelle's hand.

  "We've got our first proof! Finally, something concrete for report to Elric."

  Isabelle smiled, and this wasn't the mysterious lips-pressed- together smile; it was a big grin.

  "I knew we could do it."

  "Another positive prediction?"

  "I told you, I'm always right. Except for the times I'm not."

  * * *

  They made an odd group. Isabelle sat in a large armchair, her legs tucked beneath her, fingers intertwined in her lap. She was wearing a brown gown she seemed to like to wear around the house, its hem embroidered with runes. Though she was staring straight at him, she did not see him. She was monitoring the Drakh.

  Galen sat beside her on a small area of the sofa he had managed to clear. He was searching again through the records Johnny had spirited from the Drakh's system. Johnny was an extremely sophisticated demon, though Galen had yet to get used to his scantily clad appearance, even if he was just an artificial intelligence.

  Burell hovered nearby in her yellow armchair. She was doing an experiment that had been occupying her for the last three days, involving a microscopic transceiver. Galen was dying of curiosity about what she was doing, but so far, she'd waved off any questions. Burell's health hadn't improved since they'd returned to her place of power.

  She continued to hide her true condition as much as she could, yet she was spending more and more hours in bed, and when she was up, he could see that she was in great pain. Isabelle had grown reluctant in the last few days to leave the apartment.

  When Burell was sleeping, Isabelle checked on her regularly. And when Burell was up, Isabelle's attention constantly turned to her.

  Galen felt they should do something, but he didn't know what. Burell's organelles were failing to heal her, and Isabelle had said she refused healing from anyone else. Healing did not work well on chronic illness, but still, why would she refuse even to try? Did Burell have som
ething to hide? As if reading his thoughts, she shot him a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. At times her expressions were strikingly like Isabelle's.

  He returned his attention to the Drakh's records in his mind's eye. They had to get more information somehow, information that would reveal the hand of the Shadows. He feared they had gotten as far as they could without taking a much greater risk. Three days earlier, they'd watched, through the probe they'd planted on Captain Ko'Vin, as the captain sent G'Leel off toward the ship, and headed in the opposite direction himself.

  The probe was right in the center of Ko'Vin's forehead - he'd been so drunk, Isabelle said, she could have put it anywhere. So as the view swiveled back and forth, they could tell the captain was glancing nervously over his shoulder. Only a few doors down from the hotel, the captain turned down a long, dark alley. Off the main streets, which had been constructed to attract off'-world business and were occupied mainly by foreigners, any sense of prosperity vanished,

  The probe revealed a neighborhood occupied by the native Wychad, a species that, in the port city at least, had been overwhelmed and relegated to a subservient position. On the right side of the alley, two - and three - story buildings stood abandoned, windows broken, facades cracked and discolored. On the left side, ramshackle structures made of fiberboard and tin leaned against one another for support.

  Wastewater ran into the street. The entries to underground maintenance access ways had been pried open and cables fed downward for illegal power splices. Some Wychad moved up and down the alley; others loitered outside their houses. What was strange, Galen realized, was that they all kept to the left side of the alley.

  After traveling some distance, Captain Ko'Vin approached one of the abandoned buildings on the right. As he drew nearer, Galen realized this one was intact, windows sealed and opaque, door secured with a sophisticated security device.

  When Ko'Vin pressed the bell, the door opened for him, and he stepped inside. He went down a flight of stairs, and then he was in a small, direly lit room. Galen could make out the light-colored walls and some dark shapes of furniture.

  A man's voice spoke slightly word it spoke, Galen thought, was Narn. The program translated it.

  Sit.

  Ko'Vin found a seat near the only light in the room. He scanned the dim room nervously.

  You have the cargo as we agreed.

  Galen caught movement in the darkness. It was the speaker. Galen altered the display in his mind's eye to show longer wavelengths of light. As it did, objects that generated heat became visible. The probe displayed these infrared wavelengths as shades of red. Out of the dull background arose two brighter spots, one more intense, one less so. In front of Ko'Vin was the less intense body of red, a silhouette in Human form. The man moved as he spoke in Narn.

  We have your next payment.

  In the corner was a more brilliant red silhouette. The body was humanoid, but the head was striking, unlike anything he'd seen before. That must be the Drakh. The back of the head had two protuberances that extended back and up in two craggy peaks, one above the other. He wondered what kind of brain structure it must have.

  Ko'Vin's head turned toward the corner, perhaps sensing the presence of the Drakh lurking in the darkness. The business between the Human and the Narn captain was done quickly. Ko'Vin presented a credit chit, and the man inserted it into his machine, transferring credits onto it. Ko'Vin seemed to have lost all his bluster. In fact, he hadn't spoken a word since entering the building.

  You've done an exemplary job, as usual, the man said, returning the credit chit to the captain.

  Ko'Vin stood quickly.

  Then, from the corner, the Drakh's voice came like an arid breeze.

  Secrecy.

  The view from the probe shook as Ko'Vin nodded his head rapidly, then retreated hastily up the stairs. They had connected the traffic to the rim with the Shadows' legendary allies, the Drakh- Now they must discover whether the Drakh were the masterminds of this activity, or whether they themselves had masters.

  As the Khatkhata had resumed its journey to the rim, Galen and Isabelle had visited the Drakh's neighborhood, disguised as maintenance workers. They had taken the appearances of two workers who were often sent to disconnect the illegal splices and check the houses for dangerous power use. In the underground maintenance access way, they spliced a small device into the power lines that would allow them to cut off power to the neighborhood when they wanted.

  As they passed from house to house, stopping briefly at the locked building to knock and move on, they managed to assess the structure. All the windows were intact and sealed, and there was only one door. A high-end alarm system secured all possible entries. Monitors had been placed on either side of the front door, which was controlled with a sophisticated card-locking system they planted a huge number of Circe's mobile probes on the door and in the doorway of the building. Larger and more complex than Galen's probes, each was still no larger than a speck of dust. Yet they were microscopic robots, with a great degree of flexibility-and unpredictability.

  These probes would stick to an object for a time, then pry themselves free at certain signs. Drawn to rapidly changing light or sound, they could move on their own-albeit very slowly-to improve their positions. Someone coming into the house might then pick up a probe on the bottom of his shoe and track it inside, where it would drop off and search out activity. Galen had adjusted the probes to be drawn to dimmer light than usual, which the Drakh seemed to favor, and he had even input the silhouette of the Drakh's head as a target.

  Two days later, they had eleven probes inside the building. All but one were gathered m a cluster on the floor of the dim room where Ko'Vin had been. The other had made it into a different room, a windowless chamber with low light and a thin mat in one corner. A stack of identical brown robes were folded against the wall.

  This was where the Drakh slept.

  While waiting for their probes to penetrate the building, they'd sent Johnny to infiltrate the Drakh's data system. Johnny had said it was heavily protected, and "strange." It had taken him a full day to access. When Johnny had finally penetrated it, he'd not only found shipping records but financial statements, communications with various shipping companies, and other records. These were written in Narn, presumably to mask the participation of the Drakh in case of a security breach.

  The Human who had met with Ko'Vin - Brown was his name - maintained the records. All communications were channeled through him. Over the last six months, the Drakh and Brown had coordinated the movement of millions of intelligent beings and massive amounts of materials. By the numbers, it seemed as if entire species were on the move: Drakh, Streib, Wurt, and others whose names Galen did not recognize. In other cases, only small groups or individuals were involved. The materials being transported included great engines of fabrication and construction. But products of every kind were being shipped as well, in quantities that revealed a huge demand.

  The shipping records listed no final destination for all these shipments except the word kiva, which translated as fortunate planet. Not something he'd find on the charts.

  Galen visualized the equation to close the file of shipping information. The oddest thing about what Johnny had found in the Drakh's data system was what he had not found. There were no records of communications with the rim.

  To establish a link to the Shadows, they had to take a more personal approach. They had hoped at first that Brown would be the one to lead them to the Shadows. They had followed him and planted a probe on him. For the last three days, it had revealed nothing beyond his preferences for personal recreation. Watching Brown and the Drakh at work, Galen and Isabelle had deduced that Brown was just a front man. He seemed to spend only a few hours each afternoon in the building. He followed orders, was paid well, and actively cultivated a lack of curiosity. Between him and the Drakh there was no talk of Shadows.

  "I'm getting more of that interference," Isabelle said.

  Galen
accessed the probes in the Drakh's building. The Drakh was in the same dim room where he'd met with Ko'Vin. Brown had left for the day. In the long-wavelength light, the Drakh was a bright red figure against a dimmer red background. The angle was disorienting, since the probe was on the floor. It felt as if Galen were lying on the ground, looking up at the Drakh. Bursts of static interrupted the picture irregularly, sometimes affecting all of the image, sometimes just part of it.

  They'd been getting the interference off and on since the probes had been planted. They'd tried various things to eliminate it, but it seemed to come and go of its own accord. They could find no power source, radiation, or object that corresponded to it.

  The Drakh went into his sleeping chamber, and as Galen transferred to the probe in that room, the interference vanished. The Drakh took off his robe, folding it neatly on top of the pile of identical robes. and lay down on the mat. It was only 6 P.M., but the Drakh seemed to be on his own schedule. If the last day and a half was typical, he went to sleep around this time and woke up around 1 A.M. With no windows on the basement level, he wasn't tied to the sun's cycle.

  "Why does he do it?" Galen asked, ending contact with the probe and picking up a conversation they'd begun earlier in the day.

  With a quick motion of her fingers, Isabelle broke contact as well, and she unfolded her legs and stretched.

  "He's working with the Narns on the Khatkhata, and probably others like them, but he couldn't be more different from them. No alcohol, no sex, no gourmet foods, no wild expenditures."

  "He's got over five million credits in his account. Brown draws a generous salary, but the Drakh doesn't pay himself anything. As a middleman, he's in a perfect position to capitalize on this."

  "All he does is work, eat, and sleep," Isabelle said.

  "You're describing a monk," Burell said, her face pressed to the viewer on the image processor.

  They both turned to her.

  "The behaviors and motivations are the same. He's devoted to this work. It is his holy cause. No pleasures, no distractions. He's acting just like a monk Or Blaylock."