2-Armies of Light & Dark

by Peter David

She nodded. “A good saying.”

  “Three … two … one.. !”

  Space seemed to elongate around them, as if they were pushing through a gigantic wall of clear gelatin or squishy water. Vir prayed that the null field simply provided limited invisibility, rather than some genuine offensive means of beating back intruders.

  Then, just like that, they were through.

  This time, even the techno-mages gasped. It wasn’t a sound Vir liked. The concept of startled techno-mages wasn’t one he happily embraced. On the other hand, he certainly couldn’t blame them.

  The structure that hovered within the confines of the null field was massive beyond Vir’s imagination. It would have dwarfed Babylon 5. For that matter, in terms of sheer mass, it might very well have dwarfed entire planets.

  The Shadow Base-for that was what Vir had come to think of it as-reminded him of nothing so much as a gigantic coral reef. It seemed to stretch almost into infinity, with numerous entrances pockmarking its craggy exterior.

  “Xha’dam,” breathed Finian.

  Vir looked at him in polite confusion. “What?”

  “Xha’dam,” he repeated. “It’s nearly legendary … mythic. Reportedly a Shadow base to end all bases. So huge that-‘

  “They named it?”

  Finian rolled his eyes and looked away.

  There was some sort of activity at the far end of Xha’dam, and Vir tried to figure out what it was. The Drakh ships had reappeared, and had converged there. To Vir’s confusion there seemed to be some sort of planet there as well. But something didn’t …

  Then he realized. “Great Maker,” he breathed. “That’s … not a planet.”

  “It’s a Death Cloud,” said Kane.

  “A what?”

  “A Death Cloud. Theoretically, it envelops a world and rains destruction down upon it.”

  “Like a … a mass driver or something?”

  “A Death Cloud is similar to a mass driver,” Finian said, “in the way that an adult with heavy artillery is similar to an infant with a toy hammer.”

  The comparison was horrific. Londo had been present when mass drivers had been used on the Narn homeworld, and the description he had given had been so ghastly that Vir had wondered about the minds of the people who had come up with such a weapon. Now, upon witnessing something that was infinitely worse, Vir thought of the Shadow creatures, and knew that they were more than mere alien beings. The Shadows were incarnations of all the darkest and worst impulses that the mind of sentient beings had to offer.

  “You said `theoretically,’ ” said Vir. “You mean it was never actually used …?”

  “Our understanding is that it was close to completion when the Shadow War actually ended,” said Finian. “Naturally, our information was hardly comprehensive. We’re techno-mages, not omniscient. We didn’t know the where of it, for example, or how close to completion it actually was.”

  “From the look of it, the answer is `Very,’ ” observed Gwynn.

  “That’s why we took such an interest in the Centauri excavation ,” Finian said. “We thought that the Drakh might be seeking out lost Shadow technology, and suspected that this might be part of it.”

  “The Drakh. Their servants.”

  “Yes. But even in our wildest suspicions, we never thought…”

  “I did,” said Kane in that same oddly distant tone.

  Yes, of course. He had “seen” it. Vir still felt, rather wisely, that pursuing an inquiry along those lines would likely be folly. “So what do we do? How do we stop it …?”

  And then they heard it.

  Even though sound didn’t travel in space, they still heard it. Whether there was some sort of atmosphere attached to Xha’dam, whether the null field was capable of transmitting it, Vir didn’t know, nor would he ever know. What he did know, however, was that there was a massive rumbling that seemed to envelop everything around them.

  It was as if they were trapped within a massive hurricane. They weren’t being spun about, but the pounding all around them made Vir feel as if his teeth were going to be jarred loose from his mouth. No … it was worse. It was as if his skull was going to be jostled out of his head.

  The Death Cloud was moving.

  “In answer to your question, Mr.Cotto,” Gwynn said grimly, “we don’t stop it.”

  “That thing wasn’t near completion,” Finian said, unable to keep the sound of horrified realization from coloring his voice. “It was complete. All they had to do was turn it on. If the Shadows had unleashed it during the war…”

  “We’d have been ready for it!” Vir said with rising alarm. “And we would have had the Vorlons backing us up! Better that it should have been used then. We’d have had a better chance against it! Now, we’ve none!”

  “Vir … ”

  “I’m sorry, Kane.” Vir pulled himself together. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that this was absolutely the wrong time to come unraveled. The simple fact was that Gwynn was right. There was no way to stop it. Already the Death Cloud was moving off, out of the null field, surrounded by several Drakh ships that acted as an escort. “They’re going to test it,” Vir said suddenly.

  “What?” said Gwynn.

  But Finian nodded. “Yes. Yes, I bet Vir’s right. Whatever they’re planning to use that thing for, they’re not just going to take it right into battle. They’re going to run a test on it first. Kane, have we got the area tracked yet?”

  Kane nodded, looking over star charts that he cued up on a nearby screen. “We’re near the Daltron system. There’s one inhabited world there … the seventh planet out, with a population of three billion. Minimal space flight capacity.”

  “We’ve got to get word to them,” said Vir.

  Gwynn was shaking her head. “Never get there in time. And if the Drakh intercept our message, they’ll know we’re here. We’ll lose the element of surprise.”

  “We can’t simply not warn them! We have to tell them to-!”

  “Tell them to what?” said Gwynn coolly. `Abandon their planet? A world isn’t a cruise ship, Mr.Cotto, where everyone can just jump into lifepods when things go badly. Besides , you heard him: minimal space flight. They have no defenses, and they can’t get away. Even if we manage to alert EarthForce or the Alliance, we’re too far out here. Too remote . No one will get here in time.”

  Vir didn’t know which he found more upsetting: the reality of the situation or Gwynn’s icy, dispassionate assessment. “Don’t you care? ” he finally exploded.

  “Care? About things I can’t prevent? No, Mr.Cotto, I don’t. What I care about are those things that I can prevent. Such as the chance that another planet destroyer might be built.”

  “Another…”

  “Yes. Like that one.” And she pointed.

  Vir felt his gorge rising. For there, still at the far end of Xha’dam, he could see the skeletons being erected already for a second and third Death Cloud. With the finished model as an indelible mental template, he immediately knew the constructs in progress for what they were.

  “They learn fast, the Drakh,” said Finian humorlessly.

  “Possibly some construct ‘bots, or similar machines that they’ve put into place,” Kane guessed. “There may be some Drakh remaining behind, though, overseeing it.” He paused, and then said, “I’m taking us in.”

  It took a moment for Vir to register what he was saying , and then he comprehended. They were heading into Xha'dam, for a very obvious purpose: to destroy it.

  “I’m picking up several key energy sources,” Kane continued.

  “I thought our sensory devices weren’t working.”

  “Outside the null field, Vir, that was correct. But now that we’re inside the null field, we’re not hampered anymore. I’m bringing us into the closest entry port … or at least what looks like one. That should still keep us a fairly safe distance from whatever Drakh might be here. With any luck, we can get in and out without any problems.”

  “But wh
at about safeguards?” Vir asked. “Certainly the Shadows would have built in-“

  “Not necessarily, Mr.Cotto,” Gwynn responded. “The null field would certainly have served as a means of avoiding discovery . And in the unlikely event that someone did stumble across it, certainly the Shadow vessels themselves would have been more than capable of dispatching any intruders. It is indeed more likely that they saw no need to integrate any sort of traps into the base’s design.”

  “And if they have?” Vir couldn’t help but ask.

  “Fortunately, we have a plan to deal with any traps that may be lying in wait for us,” Finian told him.

  “Oh? Really?” Vir felt somewhat encouraged at that news. “What’s the plan?”

  “We send you in first.”

  Vir stared at Finian and saw a slight twinkle of amusement in his eyes. It was, however, only slight, and then deftly covered up. Vir only wished that he could find it remotely comical.

  “I am concerned,” Kane said abruptly. “Going on the assumption that we survive this … in the unlikely event that any Drakh are on Xha’dam, it would not be wise for them to see Mr.Cotto’s face. What one Drakh knows, he can relay to others with the speed of thought. But they need not know the face of their opponent. Vir … I shall have to conceal your features. Are you prepared?”

  Vir paused for a moment, then nodded yes. And then, a bit nervously, he added, “Will it hurt?”

  “Unlikely.”

  Kane pulled a black mask with string ties from within the folds of his garment and handed it to Vir. Vir looked at it, somewhat crestfallen. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  “Would you prefer a bag over your head?” Kane inquired.

  “Is this a vote?” Finian asked. “Because if we get to choose what he should wear… “

  “Never mind.” Vir sighed as he pulled the mask on and decided that, yes, definitely, he was not enthused with what passed for humor among techno-mages.

  * * *

  The fact that the entry into Xha’dam went as smoothly as it did should have been enough to still some of Vir Cotto’s fears. It did nothing of the kind. Instead all it did was heighten Vir’s concern that disaster was imminent. As he reasoned it, each passing moment increased the likelihood that they would be discovered, and the fact that they hadn’t been found out only brought them seconds closer to the inevitability of being spotted.

  However, the techno-mages moved as though with full confidence that they would not be detected. And Vir had to admire Kane’s sure hand at the controls. He guided the small vessel down an assortment of progressively smaller passages, before finally determining that they had gone as far as they could go. Despite Finian’s earlier jest that Vir was going to serve as a walking decoy, the trio of cloisters offered Vir the opportunity to remain aboard the ship.

  Vir shook his head vigorously. “I’m going to see this through,” he said firmly. “Besides, if the Drakh show up and come after whoever’s in this ship, well … I’d rather take my chances with you than without you.”

  “Very well” was all Kane said.

  The exit door irised open, and Vir almost choked on the air. As absurd as it sounded, as ridiculous as the notion seemed, even in his own head … the air smelled of evil. He knew it was absurd. Atmosphere couldn’t possess abstract concepts of morality as part of its chemistry. Of course, Vir could ascribe to the stale air just about any virtue he desired. In point of fact, though, there was no way that the air itself could be evil.

  And yet it was.

  It wasn’t that it smelled particularly foul. But even as it filled his lungs, he felt as if darkness were filling not only his body, but his very soul. He wanted to suck down oxygen. He wanted to vomit up whatever it was that was getting into his circulatory system. He wanted to seize control of the ship somehow, and send it hurtling out of this abysmal place of shadow, as quickly as he possibly could.

  Instead he forced himself to follow the three cloister mages and hoped that he wasn’t making the worst, and last, mistake of his life.

  The walls weren’t dissimilar to those of a series of caverns. As Vir walked, he would rest his palm against them now and again, and whenever he did so he would quickly yank his hand away. The walls felt incredibly cold. No, it was more than that. It was as if coming in contact with the walls allowed them to suck the heat out of Vir. Yet, if he didn’t touch them at all, they had no immediate effect.

  Kane, Gwynn, and Finian moved forward purposefully, so much so that Vir felt hard-pressed to keep up. The passages formed a virtual labyrinth, and yet they found their way through with ease. Vir felt tremendously envious of them. Part of him wondered whether he hadn’t missed his calling .

  Perhaps he should have become a techno-mage himself. Rather than fighting off panic at the very thought of the science-based magic users, he would be one of them and instill trembling fear in … well, in people like himself. For just one moment, he allowed himself to become preoccupied with this rather pleasant reverie. As he did so, he turned a corner … and discovered that the techno-mages were gone.

  “Oh, not again,” he moaned softly.

  This time, however, he was quite certain that they hadn’t simply vanished to avoid being noticed. Instead it was probably something far more pedestrian, namely that he’d made a wrong turn and become separated from them. But all was not necessarily lost, for he had a general idea of where they were going.

  The concept was that they were going to head for a major power source and, presumably, blow it to hell and gone somehow. With any luck, that explosion would in turn take out the entire Shadow Base … while, ideally, giving them enough time to get the hell off the base before it went.

  And locating the power source didn’t seem as if it was going to be that much of a chore. He could hear rather distinctly a steady, distant thrumming sound, a slow pulse that beat so regularly that he felt as if he were somehow inside a living body. He made his way toward the source, at first tentatively , then becoming more and more self-assured. It appeared that the techno-mages had been correct. He didn’t set of any alarms, nor did he run into any unexpected traps. Obviously , the Shadows had been overly confident.

  He thought that, right up until the moment that he turned a corner and ran into a Drakh who was heading in the opposite direction.

  Vir remembered being a child, wandering about in the woods once during a camping expedition and suddenly finding himself face-to-face with a wild animal. It hadn’t been an especially fierce one, but nevertheless, young Vir knew that they were on the animal’s home territory, and that carried with it an advantage. But his father had seemed to materialize at the side of his petrified son, and had said with confidence, “Don’t worry. He’s just as startled to see you as you are to see him:”

  That was certainly the case now. The Drakh was caught completely flat-footed. Any notion that Vir had that he might have tripped some sort of alarm disappeared when he saw the expression on the alien’s face. Clearly the creature had had no idea Vir was going to be there; he had simply been going on about his business and found himself face-to-face with an intruder.

  Vir, however, had a momentary advantage. After all, he at least had known that he might run into trouble, whereas the Drakh had been wholly unprepared. Vir drove himself forward off one leg, summoning all his strength and bravery and swinging from the hip as his father had taught him, back when young boys were routinely beating him up. His right fist connected squarely with the Drakh’s head, and Vir felt a shock of pain that ran the length of his arm up into his shoulder.

  The Drakh rocked slightly back on his heels, but otherwise didn’t seem to feel the blow.

  Realizing that he was in trouble, Vir took a step back as the Drakh advanced, and the grey-toned creature let out a horrifying shriek of anger that rooted Vir to the spot. Then suddenly the Drakh froze in place, his eyes going wide in astonishment. He was looking at a spot directly over Vir’s shoulder.

  Had he been thinking fast, Vir might have c
hosen that moment to press for an advantage. Instead he turned and looked to see what the Drakh was staring at. Instantly, he felt his blood turning to ice water in his veins.

  It was a Shadow.

  Vir had never actually seen one, except in the outermost periphery of his darkest nightmares, and yet he knew the Shadow warrior for what it was the moment it scuttled forward from the darkness. He could hear a scream in his head like a thousand souls being thrown into damnation, and there was a scrabbling sound as its pointed feet moved across the rocky surface of the floor.

  A mixture of amazement and joy appeared on the Drakh’s face, as he clearly waited for the Shadow to issue some sort of order. And suddenly the Drakh’s head snapped around, as two hands touched either side of his temples. His eyes went wide in confusion when the Shadow warrior failed to leap to his defense.

  Then the Shadow disappeared. It didn’t fade into the darkness from which it had sprung; instead it simply vanished. The Drakh didn’t comprehend what had just happened, but neither was he capable of staying conscious long enough to find out. Instead he simply sagged to the ground, and as he did so, Vir saw Gwynn standing behind him. Her long, tapering fingers released their hold on the Drakh’s forehead, letting the Shadow servant collapse with a most satisfying thud.

  “I … I got separated,” Vir stammered out.

  “Obviously,” she said, with the air of one who did not suffer fools gladly. Feeling very much the fool, Vir could understand her impatience. “Come.”

  He followed her, staying so close on her heels that he nearly stepped on her a couple of times.

  The tunnels seemed to be widening out around them, and the sounds ahead of them were getting louder. Vir squinted against an increasingly bright light, and as he did so, he commented, “Kane said that he `saw’ that we had to be here. What did he mean?”

  Gwynn said nothing.

  “Did he have some sort of… of psychic vision? Is that it? Some sort of look at the future?”

  “Do not,” she warned him, “inquire too closely into the affairs of wizards. You may not like the answers.”