The Shadows had secured Morden's loyalty using his loved ones against him, just as Morden, in the Shadows' service, had attempted to do with Galen.
"Even if the Shadows did free your family, you've more than repaid them."
Morden frowned.
"I promised to serve them. For as long as I could."
"But I can free you," Galen said, stunned by the words coming out of his mouth.
Somehow, this had gone beyond an attempt to gain information on the Shadows' defense net. He knew he couldn't change Morden's mind, yet still he couldn't stop himself from trying. He didn't know why. He didn't know how it had happened. But somehow it had become more important than anything.
"If you can cheat the devil, then shouldn't you do it?"
"Not over this. Not over them. What the Shadows gave me is well worth what I promised."
Morden paid the price from which the mages had fled. Galen pointed the gun toward the necklace.
"Your wife and daughter would hate you for what you've done. You do them no honor by killing for their sakes."
"If that's true, then that's another part of the price I have to pay."
"You can transcend yourself," Galen said, wondering who had taken control of his body.
"Transcend the Shadows' directives. That's why I'm here. I'm here to offer you a way out."
Morden shook his head.
"You're here to free me, as bizarre and incredible as I find that. But I'm not a slave. If you want to free someone, there are better candidates all around you. I chose to serve willingly. There were others who didn't. Others – on the Icarus and elsewhere – whose decision was forced upon them by people like me, who wouldn't fight. Living beings trapped inside all the Shadow ships, serving as their central processing units. Legions more, on Z'ha'dum. The conquered Narns, who are being slaughtered every day. Go free them, not me."
He held up a warding hand.
"I don't need it. I don't want it. I don't deserve it."
He sat.
"You don't know what you're saying. You must still be under their influence."
"As are you," Morden said.
"I can free you."
"Why don't you free yourself?" Morden said.
"I plan to," Galen said. "Very soon. But first I need you to tell me how to reach Z'ha'dum safely. Perhaps I can help those enslaved there."
Morden's mouth lifted with the shadow of a smile.
"That's not why you want to go to Z'ha'dum. You want to kill the two mages there. You must know you'll never leave alive."
"They killed the ones I loved."
"So you kill in the names of those you lost."
"Though they would hate me for it."
Elric's last words: Do not kill in my name. Morden massaged his temple.
"The defense protecting Z'ha'dum is called the Eye. I don't know how you can bypass it. It's extremely sophisticated. When we approach, it recognizes us, and we're simply allowed to pass."
When Galen had been connected to Anna, she had thought of something called the Eye, something that gave her commands. Apparently, the Eye not only coordinated the actions of the ships, but also controlled the defense of Z'ha'dum.
Morden looked up at him. "You'll find out no more from me."
"Then it's time to choose," Galen said, though he knew the answer.
"Freedom or death."
The Shadows had demanded that the mages join with them or die. Galen wondered if the choice he offered Morden was any different.
"You know my decision."
Galen aimed the gun at Morden's head. He must move forward with his task. He had endangered all those on Babylon 5 so he might have the chance to kill Morden. If he didn't do it now, he wouldn't get another opportunity. Morden would continue to provoke murders and wars. The temptation he posed to the mages would remain. Yet still Galen hesitated.
"How can you live with yourself?"
"I only offer people what they want."
Morden's even white teeth gleamed with his old smile.
"You know, you could really stand to enjoy life more, Galen."
His hand slipped into his pocket.
"What do you want? What would make you happy?"
There were more Shadows on the station, and they'd gotten close enough to regain their influence over Morden. The door slid open, and Galen only had a moment to catch a glimpse of several armed Humans as he conjured a platform beneath his feet, launched himself at the hole in the wall, and shoved his body inside. Plasma bursts boomed into the wall around him. Frantic energy welled up, desperate to defend, to counter with deadly force.
Galen raised the gun, fired at the glistening membrane. It splattered against the sides of the shaft, and he raced past, losing himself in the narrow, twisting passages. He'd known exactly what he was going to do. It had all been planned. He had wanted to kill, and the Circle had ordered him to kill. Yet he had not killed. And he had not freed Morden.
In some foolish attempt to do good, he'd instead done nothing. The Shadows' strings to their puppets could not be cut. He had not been able to save Anna, or the hybrid, or Morden. Only one path led to freedom, as Gowen had discovered. The choice he'd presented to Morden had been a false one. There was no freedom for either of them, except in death. It was not a mistake he would make again.
C
HAPTER 13
In Anna's mind, behind the barrier of brilliant, blank whiteness, vague forms were taking shape. This didn't feel at all like Bunny's intrusion into her mind. There was no pain, no pressure. Instead, in scattered places, the cloudy brilliance on the far side of the barrier was clearing, revealing shadowy silhouettes that took on color, substance. She saw many people, many places. Each remained a short time, then faded away. She didn't "remember" any of them, as she remembered her experiences with the machine. Yet she studied each as it came to her.
John Sheridan stood on a beach, talking to her. He pointed farther down the coast, to a tower. Light flashed from the tower, then turned away. The light scanned the area around the tower, just as the Eye scanned the area around Z'ha'dum. It was called a lighthouse, she somehow knew. Short, sand-colored hair blowing over his face, John Sheridan smiled at her.
She was in a dark room filled with books, papers, primitive machinery, strange items. She studied a small, elliptical object that sat on her desk in a circle of light. Anna recognized it as a machine of the liberators. The skin covering it was dull, inactive.
She was lying beside John Sheridan in a bed. He was talking, and she rested her head on his chest. A man sat propped against a cave wall. It was dark, a single light glaring off the breather covering his face. He wore an orange jumpsuit. There was a burn mark on one arm. Piece followed upon piece, yet they were not her memories. They carried no emotion or import. They were simply bits of information that had been retrieved from storage. And they were incomplete, fractured, out of context. She didn't understand them. When the treatment was complete, Justin helped her to sit up on the couch and questioned her about what she remembered.
Again he frowned at the results.
"Where were you born?" Justin asked.
She didn't know.
"What is your profession?"
Still, she didn't know.
"Why did you marry John?"
"Where did you and John go on your honeymoon?"
Justin let out a heavy breath, and Anna worried that the liberators might find her undeserving of the great honor for which they had chosen her.
"We don't have much time, Anna," he said. "I'm just going to have to teach you all we know. Maybe you can connect these facts with the images in your mind."
"I will," she said, and he gave her a short smile.
"Beyond that, there's one more thing we can try. Someone you used to know, who might be able to jog your memory. You'll meet him soon."
* * *
Galen glided through the ventilation system of Babylon 5, forcing the energy within him to slow, the heat to decline, his pounding heart to calm. Two mind-focusing exercises left only a small window for thought. He had to leave this place.
He accessed the Command and Control database, inserted his ship into the schedule with a departure time in one hour. He could not go after Morden again. The Shadows would be prepared for him; he had lost that opportunity.
He must go to Z'ha'dum, even though the defense net would likely kill him. He must hold to what remained of his task. For without it, he would dissolve into chaos.
But first he would convey his information to John Sheridan. The probe on John's neck revealed he was finally alone, sitting on the couch in his darkened office, a single table lamp illuminating the reports spread across his lap. His hands lay limp on either side of him. Only the sound of slow, regular breaths broke the silence. John was sleeping.
After a good night's rest, John would probably realize the Shadows' strategy on his own. But whether he'd get that sleep, or duty would call on him during the night, as it had so many times before, Galen didn't know.
If this visit to Babylon 5 was to be Galen's last act, then he would like to do this one thing, to give John's alliance one small chance to win a victory against the Shadows.
Galen accessed the cameras in the surrounding corridors, found no one nearby. It was 1 A.M., station time.
Michael's probe showed him Down Below, continuing his search for the doctor. Perfect. Galen brought himself to a stop. A few feet farther down was a vent that led into a storage closet near John's office.
Galen visualized the equations, conjuring a cluster of intense balls of energy on the vent. In a few seconds they had burned through. He passed into the storage closet, conjured a full – body illusion. He had no time to gain John's trust, to explain all that he knew and how he knew it. He would simply plant the idea and be gone. The Shadows would not pursue him here. They knew where he was headed, and without a method of penetrating Z'ha'dum's defenses, he could easily be dealt with out on the rim, where he would draw no unwanted attention.
As for the Vorlon Kosh, if he really did live inside John, Galen hoped he would not interfere.
The corridor outside was empty. Galen left the storage closet, made his way to John's large office. Dim light revealed the rectangle of the window, which looked out on the station's vast gardens, now simulating night.
John sat in the circle of light from the single lamp, his head hanging to one side, lips slightly parted. In sleep, he looked young, too young for the responsibility he carried.
Galen wondered what plan the Shadows had for him. If he was lost, the alliance would fail. No one else had the power to hold the many races and governments together. Galen wished he could do more for John, but he could not. He took the tranq tab from his pocket, went to John, pressed it gently to John's neck. He had formulated the one-inch disk with only a light sedative. With its advanced delivery system, it would take effect in just three seconds, keeping John disoriented during their conversation.
Normally he created tabs that bonded to the skin, so his targets had no chance of removing them. But he would leave no trace of his presence. Galen returned the tab to his pocket, sat beside John, and raised a hand to wake him.
"You carry Shadows within you."
The voice came from John, but the voice was not his, and his lips had not moved. John's head remained hanging to one side, his breath slow, regular. It was the whispering voice he had heard before, echoing with strange resonances of other words, other layers of meaning.
"This place is not for you," the voice said.
"Leave at once."
The words were being sent directly into his mind, but Galen sensed no attempt to invade his thoughts. His exercises continued without disruption. He spoke softly, so that he would not wake John.
"Who are your–"
"You must go to Z'ha'dum and stop those like you. From them spreads a great darkness. Only like can stop like."
"Are you Vorlon? Kosh?"
"You could have crushed me, and you did not. We met in blackness, and you withstood my test."
Kosh must have been the Vorlon he'd encountered in the Thenothk system.
"What is the darkness..."
"Tell no one. Secure the aid of my successor, Ulkesh. Do not let him probe your mind."
"Will he help me breach the Shadows' defense net?"
"If you withstand his test, he will not kill you as you attempt to pass to the enemy."
"What of the Eye? If the Vorlons don't kill me, the Shadows will."
"Yes," Kosh said.
"How can I..."
John stirred, opened his eyes.
"Michael? What is it?"
He straightened.
"Another Shadow attack?"
Galen slipped into Michael's persona, his speech patterns.
"No, no," he said, "nothing like that. Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to give you an update on Stephen. Something's been bothering me. You know I've been trying to track the doc's movements. I still haven't caught up with him, but from what I hear, it sounds like he's over the worst of the stim withdrawal. Seems fairly fit. Which just makes him harder to find."
John ran a hand over his face.
"The thing is, what he's doing... You know how he said he was on walkabout."
"Yes."
"Well, it seems like he's actually, literally, walking about. There's this section of Down Below, and apparently he's walking around it, circling it without ever entering."
Galen held up his index finger, rotating it in a slow circle as he spoke.
"He's even gone above it and below it, but for some reason he won't enter this area in the center."
John was following the movement of Galen's finger, his head bobbing sleepily. Galen turned as if to retrieve something from the couch behind him, conjured the illusion of a comp-pad in his hand, on its screen a collection of dots in a spherical pattern. He extended the comp-pad toward John.
"Each dot here indicates a sighting of Stephen. You see how they're arranged in a shell, with no dots in the center."
Again he moved his hand to reflect the pattern.