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

by Casting Shadows (Cavelos, Jeanne)

  "Greetings, Daughter of Enchantress."

  He stood, smiling, wearing only his red bathing suit.

  "Your enchantress is dead," Isabelle said.

  Johnny looked down, saw Burell there. The smile fell from his face.

  "She told me she, was going to die. Oh, hell."

  "Did she tell you what must be done?"

  He raised his head, his jaw firm, like the Earth Force captain on whom he had been modeled.

  "All of her places, all of her belongings must be destroyed. That power has to be kept out of the wrong hands."

  "And as for yourself?"

  "I have to die too."

  "I'm sorry, Johnny." Johnny shook his head.

  "I lived to serve her. I'm happy to die with her."

  "First, give me a copy of all her files."

  She closed her eyes, and Galen knew she was visualizing Burell's key. She turned to Galen, and there was an expression on her face he couldn't identify.

  "Give Galen a copy as well."

  She was afraid that something might happen to her. Galen closed his eyes, visualized the key. He received the files- files of research for which Burell had been reprimanded.

  "It is time," Isabelle said.

  "It must be done at once. Goodbye, Johnny."

  Johnny dropped to one knee.

  "It is my great pleasure, Daughter of Enchantress."

  He vanished, and Isabelle dissolved the globe. Galen realized there was one more piece of tech that had to be destroyed.

  "Your amulet," he said to Isabelle.

  "I left it behind."

  It was a piece of Isabelle, a limb that she now must sever.

  She nodded absently, closed her eyes. Galen looked toward Burell's apartment building, which stood out against the skyline in the harsh light of the sun. The apartment was on the top floor. Galen used his sensors to magnify the view, but found no peculiar activity or energy in the apartment, until he reached the right corner window. Something flashed inside: an intense blue, churning energy. Then the window exploded outward, and blue flames whirled and diffused into the pale green sky. Galen directed his gaze inside, magnifying further. A great maelstrom whirled within those walls, consuming all.

  The apartment seemed to shift, and as Galen removed his magnification, he saw that the building was swaying slightly. He looked over the city and watched the swaying pass in a wave from one building to the next, radiating outward. As it approached them, a low rumble grew out of the ground. Then it passed by, moving toward the outskirts of the port. Burell had said her place of power was underground. It must have been destroyed.

  Ahead of them, the hangars of the spaceport came into view. When they had arrived Burell had parked her ship to a private hangar, which was protected against intruders. Now it, too, was consumed in a whirlwind of blue flame.

  Galen found an empty alley near the spaceport, formulated the equation, brought them down. He dissolved the platform too soon. They dropped a few inches to the ground. Galen caught himself on hands and knees on the dirty, wet pavement. His scarf dangled into a brown puddle.

  He had energy, he had boundless, surging energy inside of him. But his body was exhausted. His limbs quivered with the effort of keeping balance on the platform. And more than that, his mind was tired of the endless, ferocious focus required to maintain control.

  The alley stank. Isabelle was pulling Burell away from the puddle, straighte ning her limbs. Galen wanted only to sit here with her, to be still and try to forget how his foolishness and failure had led to Burell's death. Yet he had a duty, a duty to the Circle.

  He tried to concentrate.

  "We need passage out of here. We need false identification. We need to disguise Burell's body."

  Isabelle straightened Burell's head as if she hadn't heard. Galen seized her wrist. She looked up and it seemed as if she really saw him for the first time since she had discovered Burell's body. She pulled in a breath, and her face; tightened, regaining its focus. He was shocked at how relieved he was to have her back. He needed her. She nodded, and her strong fingers threaded decisively through each other.

  "There's a ship leaving for the Brensil system in an hour."

  * * *

  "Sending them was a mistake. We might as well admit that to begin with."

  Herazade seemed finally to have grasped the gravity of the situation, Elric thought. After watching the latest recording sent by Galen, she even seemed willing to acknowledge at last that the Shadows had returned.

  The evidence allowed no further room for doubt. The messages Isabelle had ingeniously intercepted and decoded came from a being whose orders the Drakh followed without question, a being who could make itself invisible, a being; who could penetrate their shields and illusions. It had penetrated the illusions of Burell, and so she had been killed.

  No techno-mage had teen killed in their lifetimes. Even Ing-Radi, almost two hundred years old, could remember nothing like it. Burell's death had stunned them. You will join with us. All of you. Or your will die, the Shadow had said. Burell's death proved it could fulfill that threat.

  She had sacrificed herself to save Galen and Isabelle. Elric had sent her to that death, and he would have to live with it. If he had not sent her, perhaps Galen and Isabelle would be dead. Or perhaps they would have escaped, and Burell would still live. He would never know.

  Galen's last message, with the new recording attached, troubled Elric with what it did not say.

  Burell is dead. We have her body. We will arrive in the Brensil system in two days. Perhaps someone could meet us.

  Galen blamed himself, of course. That was how Elric had raised him. They were two of a kind. Yet when Galen was very upset, he succumbed to an odd quietness, a disconnection quite unlike Elric's stubborn movement forward.

  Elric imagined Galen as he had been in the days following his parents' funeral, sitting on a stool by the fire with his hands folded, not moving for hours. Elric could sense the stillness in the words of Galen's message. As if any movement would trigger another catastrophe.

  When he'd received Galen's message, Elric had wanted to take to his ship and abandon the convocation for the Brensil system. Elric needed to see with his own eyes that Galen was all right. But instead, he had called this emergency meeting of the Circle. He had his duties, and may they be damned to hell.

  Herazade continued her endless speech.

  "Our intelligence - gathering activities have invaded the privacy of the Shadows and angered them. My suggestion is that before hostilities escalate further, we arrange a meeting with the Shadows, apologize for our intrusion, and lay out our position of neutrality in any coming conflict. We can explain..."

  Blaylock's tapping hand slammed against the arm of his chair.

  "How long is this nonsense to be allowed to continue?"

  "If we explain," Herazade continued, "that we have taken no side in any war in the last three hundred years, they will have to understand. That is our way."

  Blaylock stood, scowling down on Herazade, and flung the words at her.

  "They will not understand. That is their way."

  He seemed ready to continue, but stopped and turned his back to her, facing the other members of the Circle.

  "The time has come to decide on a course of action. The Shadows' intentions are clear. Now we must make clear our own. We have three choices. We may join the Shadows. We may fight the Shadows. We may seek a place of safety to wait out this threat.

  "I find the first two options unacceptable. If we join with the Shadows, we must abandon the Code. If we fight the Shadows, then we are making ourselves into something we were never meant to be, soldiers. We carry a special blessing. We have a special destiny. We are not meant for war. That would be moving in the wrong direction. If we are to survive, I believe we must create a special place of hiding, where none can find us until we see fit." Blaylock sat.

  Herazade was staring at him with her mouth open, amazed at this grim piece of advice.
Kell and Ing-Radi were less surprised, but still seemed unhappy with Blaylock's suggestion. Kell pushed himself to his feet.

  "Your proposal, Blaylock, seems premature. Just as Elric's proposal to forge alliances and prepare to fight the Shadows seems premature. Isabelle has given us the promise of a weapon to use against the Shadows: the ability to hear their communications. What other weapons we may have against them, we do not know. And what weapons they may have against us, we do not know. Our illusions seem easily penetrated by them."

  He hesitated, looking down toward the well of the amphitheater. Kell never hesitated. He was considering telling them, Elric realized, telling them the secret he'd been keeping, his knowledge of the Shadows.

  Kell lifted his gaze to scan the members of the Circle through squinting eyes, Herazade and Blaylock to his right, Ing-Radi and Elric to his left. Did he no longer trust them? Tilar had said the mages were divided. Morden had sought allies during his visit. Had he found any? Kell cleared his throat and continued.

  "Now that we know the Shadows are abroad, I believe we may acquire more information shortly. We should at least question Galen and Isabelle personally, before we take any further actions."

  Again he was delaying. But this time Kell had revealed more than he had planned. He was expecting information. His plan, whatever it was, would bring them further intelligence on the Shadows. And none too soon. Burell had already died while he delayed. Ing-Radi bowed her head.

  "I agree. Let us first send Burell to the other side. Let us second speak with Isabelle and Galen. Then a better decision can be made."

  Elric stood.

  "We have, not yet resolved the immediate issue. Who is to bring Galen and Isabelle from the Brensil system? I volunteer myself."

  Ing-Radi extended an orange hand toward him.

  "You are needed here, Elric. Besides, Brensil is three days' journey. Galen and Isabelle will arrive there in less than two days, and would be safer picked up as soon as they arrive, in case they are pursued. Can we not hire a ship to bring them?"

  "A hired ship would also take time to arrive there," Elric said.

  He had prepared for this.

  "Brensil has little traffic. It has no ships ready for hire. Those who owned ships left the system when the mine closed."

  Kell ran his index finger over his white goatee, revealing his anxiety.

  "Perhaps we could send Elizar."

  His words were slow, reluctant.

  "In his ship, he can travel from Zafran to Brensil quickly enough to arrive before Galen and Isabelle. They could leave immediately."

  "He is well?" Blaylock asked, the question an accusation.

  The implication was clear: if Elizar could heal so quickly, then he should not have left the convocation.

  "He recovers."

  Blaylock held them for a moment in the silence of his disapproval before responding.

  "Very well."

  "It is best to have them picked up quickly," Ing-Radi said. Kell turned to Elric.

  "Have Galen contact Elizar at once. See if they can make arrangements."

  Kell seemed more positive about the plan now. Elric nodded. If Elizar was involved in Kell's attempt to gather information about the Shadows, that could explain why Kell was reluctant to interrupt him with this task. But Elizar was in the best position to go to Brensil, and despite his arrogance, Elizar was a skilled initiate. He could help Galen through any trouble that might occur.

  Elric composed the message. The Circle would have you contact Elizar He is on Zafran 7 and could reach Brensil most quickly. See if you can make arrangements and advise us. He sent the message. Kell nodded.

  "This is for the good. They can mend any ill feelings between the three of them."

  As Ing-Radi began to discuss changes in the convocation schedule to allow for Barell's funeral, Elric found himself waiting anxiously for Galen's reply.

  If Elizar was available, Galen would soon be safe at home. Right now, that mattered more to him than the Shadows, more than fighting the Shadows, more than discovering whether the Shadows had allies among the mages.

  All of that would be easy to face, once Galen was safe at home. At last a response carne.

  I have contacted Elizar. He is fit and can meet us at Brensil. He says he can be there even before we arrive, so we can leave for Soom at once.

  Elric found his heart pounding and slowed it. The news was good; Galen would soon be home. And Galen's new message carried less of the sense of stillness. He was coming back to himself. In five days, Elric could see for himself that Galen was all, right.

  Across the room, Blaylock's unyielding gaze was fixed on him. As the message arrived, Blaylock gave a slight nod. Your student has performed well.

  Chapter 14

  Inside the freighter's cabin, Galen read Elric's message.

  "The Circle wants us to contact Elizar. He's the closest,"

  "Of course," Isabelle said.

  "I should have thought of it. If he's well enough to make the trip."

  She knelt beside a vent in the wall, her brown gown pooling around her feet. She flipped the switch on the vent and a blast of dust came out, followed by a stream of fresh air. From the look of it, no one had used this cabin in years. It was tiny, meant for crew not passengers, with two bunk beds on the left, a small desk and cubbyhole for clothes on the right. Everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. A single harsh ceiling lamp glared down on the neglect.

  The ship ran food and sundries once a month to the mining colonies on Brensil 4 and other settlements on the verge of abandonment. It carried much less cargo than it had been built to hold, and the captain seemed to have compensated for this lost revenue by cutting expenses. Though it was meant to have a larger crew, the captain made do with three. That left one empty cabin in the narrow section rotating about the center of the ship. From the dull, unsteady vibration that ran through the superstructure, Galen judged he also saved money on engine maintenance. Galen finished making the upper bunk with the clean sheets the captain had given them.

  "I'll contact Elizar then."

  He was reluctant to ask Elizar to put aside his convalescence. But if they were somehow tracked to this slow-moving freighter, Tilar, Brown, and the Drakh could easily be on Brensil 4 waiting for them.

  They had disguised themselves with hastily bought clothes and wigs. They hadn't wanted to conjure full-body illusions in case the Shadow was monitoring the port. The energy might draw it to them, and it could easily penetrate those disguises.

  Isabelle wore a becoming brown gown, Galen an uncomfortable brown turtleneck and pants. The wigs, it turned out, were infested with bugs, and they'd thrown them out as soon as they'd boarded.

  Even if the disguises had worked, though, they might not be sufficient. This ship, one of the first to leave after their confrontation, would be a logical choice for the Shadows to suspect. Galen didn't want to be trapped on Brensil 4, virtually a barren rock, waiting for a ride. He would study the layout of the planet's domed settlement in case of emergency, but he hoped they would not be forced into a fight there. Brensil 4 wasn't an ideal destination; aside from this monthly delivery, it had little other traffic. A much busier port would have been better. But the ship had been leaving when they needed to leave, and its captain asked no questions.

  Galen realized he was delaying when he should be contacting Elizar. He knew that Elizar would want to help them if he was able.

  Perhaps it was the reminder of his failure he did not want to face. He composed the message.

  Elizar, the, Circle has suggested I contact you. Isabelle and I were sent to Zafran 8 on a task. We did not fare well. Burell was killed, and Isabelle e and I escaped on a freighter bound for Brensil 4. We may be pursued. We will arrive in two days and require transportation back to Soom. I do not know the state of your health. If you are not well, by no means should you come. But if it will not endanger your recovery, we would be grateful for your help.

  He visualized the
equation to send the message. Isabelle had been watching him.

  "Elizar knew there was a danger facing the mages. He warned me. It was not the danger of decay, as he claimed before the Circle."

  "A threat not only to as, but to everyone, that's what he told me. Perhaps he saw signs of it, as Burell did."

  She moved toward the desk and chair, which required that she squeeze past Galen. Galen tried to move out of her way, but the room was so narrow his hip grazed her stomach. The touch was electric. Isabelle pulled out the chair and sat, seemingly unaffected.

  "Why would he lie to the Circle?" Galen sat on the lower bunk.

  Their knees touched.

  "He told me Kell was not willing or able to fight this threat."

  "He said that?" Galen nodded.

  "If that is true, if Kell and the Circle cannot fight the Shadows, then none of us can."

  "The Circle," Isabelle said, "is not the answer to all things."

  Her chest hitched with a quick breath, and she looked away.

  She was thinking of Burell, he knew. Every few minutes it would come back to her, the realization that Burell was dead. He would see it in a slackness to her face, an emptiness in her eyes. Then the loss would turn to anger, her jaw clenching and a muscle in her neck gaining prominence. Gradually, as they spoke, the anger would fade, and she would become more like her old self. He was amazed at how well he could tell what she was thinking.

  He'd never felt such an awareness of another's feelings, not even Elric's. Even with that knowledge, though, he didn't know what to say to make her feel better. Burell was in a stasis crate in the hold. If he had read Elric's message when it had first arrived, if they had left immediately, Burell would still be alive. A reply arrived from Elizar.

  It grieves me to hear of Burell's passing. Please convey my condolences to Isabelle. Of course I will come to Brensil, my good friend. I am well enough. I will be there as quickly as speed allows, which will be much sooner than you. Perhaps then you can tell me something of what you encountered.