Summoning Light (27 page)

"Thank you," Elric said. "I will do the same for Carvin."

Alwyn's hand lingered on him. "Bring yourself back too. You're a stubborn old bastard, like me, and God knows there aren't enough of us in the universe."

Elric embraced him, feeling an unaccustomed rush of emotion. "Leave immediately and travel as quickly as possible."

"I will."

Elric opened the door, and they headed in different directions. Alwyn was a good friend, he realized, the best friend he had. It was a shame he would never see his friend again.

The throbbing in his head was growing stronger, but he pushed himself forward. He must confirm that the next piece of his plan had fallen into place. He could observe from his room, but he had done too much of that already. He must mix with the others, to reassure them that all was well. So he returned to the observation room.

Fed approached him, a smile somehow visible under the mass of his unkempt beard. "They're still stuck in Londo's quarters."

In the air before them, Fed conjured the image from the probe on Vir's cheek. The blackness was broken only by the thin beam of a penlight. Vir's thick-fingered hand aimed the light into a recess in the wall.

"This is ridiculous," Londo ranted. "In the case of emergency, when all power has gone and you are standing in complete blackness, open a tiny panel in the wall and trigger some nearly invisible device to open the door. What insane Human invented this system? We could be dead by now."

Vir turned, shining the penlight at Londo, who stood over him. "Don't say that. We've got enough problems as it is."

Londo raised a hand before his face. "Stop shining that thing in my eyes and get back to work." Vir turned back to the recess in the wall, and Londo continued. "Do they think I have nothing better to do than stand here in the dark? Do they think they can spirit away all my money and suffer no consequences? They think we are cowering in here, Vir, waiting for their next demon to slip through the air ducts and terrify us. Well, we're not! Come, conjure your best, you second-rate magicians! Bring it on!"

"Londo! You're not helping."

Fed laughed.

Londo continued. "They think we will be awed by their fancy tricks like some kind of savages. They think they can come here and show no respect."

"I thought you had decided to apologize."

For a moment there was silence. Then Londo spoke. "That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

A dim light came on, and Vir turned to investigate. Across the room, the communications screen had lit up, and a text message appeared. Londo walked over to it.

Ambassador, I think you may want something I can provide. Assistance with your situation. Meet me. You know where.

"What's that?" Vir said. "I thought you said the comm system wasn't working."

The message vanished, and the comm screen went black. Vir's penlight revealed only the faintest hint of Londo's silhouette against the darkness.

"It isn't," Londo said. His voice had grown soft, uncertain.

"Was that from?"

Londo's dark figure turned on Vir. "Stop asking so many questions, and get back to work. I need to get out of here. Things may be looking up."

Vir turned back to the wall. The door opened.

"At last!" Londo cried. He passed Vir, slapping him on the back. "Good work."

"But Londo–"

But Londo had already disappeared down the corridor.

Fed was nodding his head, a growing smile twisting at his beard. "You, Elric, are the king. It's all happening just like you said. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had all of these guys under some kind of mind control."

Yes, Elric had anticipated Morden inserting himself into the conflict between Londo and the mages, and he had anticipated Londo accepting Morden's help. But the meeting that was about to take place was another unknown in Elric's plan. He could not listen to their conversation. In the gardens where they now went to meet, there were no security cameras. And Morden would be accompanied by the Shadows. They might well detect any probe, any mage close enough to listen. They must have no idea that Elric knew of their connection to Londo. They must have no idea that Elric anticipated the plan they would now propose.

And if Elric was wrong, all those in his care would die, and the deception would fail.

The bed was hard as rock. Galen shifted in the dark room, his body sore all over. His leg throbbed. He threw off the coat that covered him, hot.

Moving slowly, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself into a sitting position. As he took a breath, pain stabbed into his left side. He clenched a hand around his ribs, suddenly overcome with dizziness, and hunched over. Something was wrong with him. The inseam of his left pant leg was cut open, and where the leg peeked out he saw it was swollen and discolored. He tried to remember.

The City Center, the living window, the Shadow ship.

Where was Blaylock?

Breathing shallowly, he searched for mage energy, found none besides his own. He checked the time. It took a few moments to register. He'd slept over thirty hours.

Blaylock must have brought him here. Blaylock must have saved him, because he should have been killed by the fall. Galen tried to sort out the sensations of the impact. At the last moment before he'd hit the ground, his body had grown suddenly heavy, as if he were in an elevator slowing to a stop. Blaylock had conjured a platform beneath him, spreading the deceleration out over perhaps a second, lessening the impact.

Galen scanned his body. His lower left leg showed the incomplete knitting of two fractures, one of the fibula, and one of the smaller tibia. Three ribs on his left side were recovering from breaks. An assortment of bruises and scrapes marked various other parts of his body. Blaylock must have healed him partially; his own organelles would have taken at least a few days to affect this degree of healing.

The plan had been to flee once they'd been discovered. Yet he was still on Thenothk 4. Galen was grateful he hadn't woken to find himself on a transport heading away from the rim. He still had a chance to find Elizar, if Elizar was here. And now that he knew the spell of destruction would crush only what he wished, he could use it.

The energy of the tech quickened in anticipation. Yet the cold, the driving need to act, did not come. They would return, he sensed, in time, yet for now he had a brief respite. He'd released a great deal of energy last night, had saved Blaylock, had been able to strike, at least in some small way, against the Shadows. He found some measure of satisfaction in that.

But where was Blaylock?

The bedroom door was open a crack, and red light leaked in from the next room. Voices spoke in Narn. Galen accessed his translation program, and the words appeared in his mind's eye.

I promised I would see him safely off the planet.
Galen recognized G'Leel's voice. She sounded angry.
We can easily smuggle him on board. What difference does it make to you?

You say it's easy, but they'll be looking for him,
said Captain Ko'Vin.
It's a risk. And there's no reward.

He'll tell us where the Centauri arms are kept. We can destroy them before they ever reach the Centauri.

Keeping one hand wrapped around his side, Galen laid the other flat against the bed to push himself up. The bed was an artificial stone, he realized. G'Leel's hotel must cater to Narns. As he stood, pain sang through his left leg. He shifted his weight from it, swayed unevenly as dark spots danced before his eyes. Against the wall, he noticed an empty cargo container the size of a coffin.

And what good does that do me?
Ko'Vin asked.
G'Leel, you've turned into a political fanatic.

What do you want? Do you want me to pay you for taking him, and for possibly saving our people? Let's negotiate. Let's settle on a price, the amount you need to be motivated to do something good.

Galen had to find out what had happened to Blaylock. He forced his swollen leg forward. When his weight came down, he felt a horrible grinding in his shin. Pain shot through him. He caught himself quickly with his good leg, releasing a hard breath, and told himself to take the next step now, before he thought about it. In this way, he limped across the room toward the door.

Calm down. I didn't say I wouldn't take him. I'm sure we can come to some sort of friendly, mutually pleasurable agreement. You know I've always had my eye on you.

Come one step closer, you pathetic [untranslatable phrase] and you'll leave here in pieces.

Galen opened the door. The outer room was decorated with stone furnishings in the Narn style, illuminated with red light. G'Leel and Ko'Vin stood a few feet apart. Ko'Vin's hands were extended, G'Leel's clenched in fists at her sides.

"Where is Blaylock?"

They both turned to him. G'Leel's eyes widened. "You're not supposed to get up. Your leg is broken."

"Where," Galen said, "is Blaylock?"

I'll talk to you in a few minutes,
G'Leel said, showing Ko'Vin out.

Don't take too long. I need to get to the ship. If you're reasonable, we can settle all this quickly.

I'm sure it would be quick,
G'Leel said, closing the door in his face. She turned to Galen. "Let me help you back to bed."

Galen braced his hand against the door frame. "Just stop. And tell me. Where is he?"

"Blaylock – he's that other mage you were with?"

Galen nodded.

"He went to get more information."

"Where?"

"He didn't say. But he said not to wait for him."

Galen rested his forehead against the cool door frame, taking shallow breaths. Why had Blaylock left him here? Where had Blaylock gone?

G'Leel's muscular arm clamped around his shoulders, and she half-carried him back to the bed, deposited him there. He sat hunched forward, hand wrapped around his side. "Tell me everything that happened." In his mind's eye, he began searching through all the probes they had planted, looking for Blaylock.

G'Leel stood over him, arms crossed. "He came with you last night, in the middle of the night. He said that you needed my help. I don't know what happened, but you looked very bad. You kept talking, saying something about a woman."

Galen closed his eyes. "I do not talk in my sleep."

"You had some things to say this time. You kept repeating, 'A woman in the scream.' Things like that. 'A woman in the machine.' Blaylock claimed he didn't understand it, but I got the feeling he didn't like what you were saying. Then he took out this crystal and said he was going to heal you. He seemed to just sit there. But when he quit, you looked better, and you'd finally shut up. He had to stop before you were completely healed, because he was afraid it might be detected or something. He explained that your leg had been broken in two places and you shouldn't walk on it.

"Then he said he had to leave. He told me he'd be back before the Khatkhata left, but if he wasn't, I had to take you off the planet with me."

"When will your ship depart?"

"Less than two hours. I'd already have you on board except for that bastard Ko'Vin. But don't worry. I can handle him."

"Blaylock said nothing of where he was going or why?"

"He left a note."

"A note." Galen raised his head.

"He said if you became difficult enough, I should give it to you."

Galen extended his hand.

G'Leel went to a stone desk across the room, removed a piece of paper from the drawer. She handed it to Galen.

"Have you read this?" he asked.

G'Leel shifted uncomfortably. "He claimed he put a spell on it. He said if I read it, a very unpleasant curse would fall on me and my family."

Galen coughed, pain stabbing him in the side. He made a motion over the paper as if removing the nonexistent spell and unfolded the note. It was written in the language of the Soom.

There is more information I must obtain before I can leave this place. Your work is done. Do not follow me. Your power must not fall into the hands of the enemy. Send a message to Elric telling him all that you've discovered.

Galen's eyes stuck on the sentence. Elric still didn't know. Galen had slept all this time without warning him of the Shadows' plans to destroy the Zekhite. His mind raced, trying to remember what Rabelna had said. The Zekhite had been scheduled to leave Babylon 5 in thirty-six hours – six hours from now. There was still time to warn him. Still time to save him.

Galen pushed himself to resume reading, to continue searching through the probes for Blaylock.

Then leave Thenothk as quickly as possible. I know this is not your preference, but it is your duty, and you must fulfill it. You must return to the mages to teach them how to listen to the Shadow communications. This skill may be critical to our survival. You must also be with them in case they have need of a weapon.

You used your spell of destruction in defiance of the Circle. It was a rash, undisciplined act. Should our order survive, you shall answer for it. That you cast the spell purposely, with control, is a matter for both condemnation and praise. Yet predictions of the end of the universe, it seems, were unwarranted. The spell has proven itself to be our most effective weapon against these ships, should we need a weapon for self-defense. Destruction is not our purpose; war is not our place. Yet in this critical moment in our history, your skill may be required. You must take great care to use it only for good, and only when there is no other course.

My need for further information is personal in nature. It is part of my spiritual quest, a quest that does not involve you. If I have not returned by the time you awake to read this, then I am dead. Under no circumstances search for me. Your skills are required by the living.

The note was signed with the rune signifying Blaylock's name.

Galen would not believe Blaylock was dead. Not until he saw the body. But he wished he had woken sooner. Suddenly it struck him that Blaylock might have encouraged that long sleep, to give himself time to do whatever he needed to do, without drawing Galen into danger. He might even have hoped Galen would not awake until after the Khatkhata had left.