'Order and discipline are fine and noble goals. Lofty dreams. Ah, but you cannot have order without chaos, and some of us can see that. So what you need is ordered chaos. Our style of chaos, you might say.
'A war of our direction, and at our will. And by the time it is over, all the races will be ours, whether they know it or not.'
Mr. Morden, a private observation.
* * * Where am I?
My home. This is where you were aiming for, after all.
I don't feel any pain. I remember.... being wounded.
Pain.... is a transitory thing. All things are transitory in their own way, but the pain of the flesh most of all. The pain of the soul, however.... well, that can last a very long time indeed. You know that better than any, Delenn of Mir. Almost as well as I do.
You are the.... friend.... Ivanova spoke of.
I cannot say whether I am anyone's 'friend' or not, but yes, I am the one she spoke of. I have been trying to contact her for some time. I could sense her troubled soul, and I knew she would bring you here. I have been waiting for this meeting, or one like it. Waiting for.... a very long time.
Where is Ivanova? I.... don't see her.
She is sleeping. Without dreams. It has been a long time since she last did that. She will awaken soon enough, but she would not thank either of us for waking her now.
No, I do not think she would. It is strange.... I used to.... well, not hate her, but I knew she was the Enemy. She worked for them of her own free will. She tried to kill me, she tried to kill John. And yet all I can feel for her is pity. Can you explain that?
Indeed I can. You are learning. I might even suspect that was the reason you were sent here, if I did not know better.
Why was I sent here?
Who can say? The Vorlons sent you here to die. You sent yourself here so that another might live. The universe sent you here.... Who is either of us to question the will of the universe? We are both just children born of her, after all. Perhaps you were sent here to meet me.
And who are you?
That question again. I very much doubt anyone can answer that truly, not even you, for all your claims. I could give you any one of countless answers, but if I were to tell you my name is Lorien, and I am very old indeed.... would that satisfy you?
It might. I do not recognise your race, but there is something familiar. You do not look like a Soul Hunter, and yet there is something there....
No, I am not a Soul Hunter, although I do know of their breed. I see that Cathedral has returned to the doings of the younger races, and that the Well of Souls has spoken to mortal beings again.
Are the Soul Hunters themselves not mortal?
After a fashion.
Wait.... are you saying that the Soul Hunters were not meant to be a part of this? This was not their destiny?
What is destiny? You accept the concept as if the future were written out as plain as day, words on a page, engravings on a stone slab. I can see some of the things laid out before me, but not all. No, Delenn of Mir, I was not expecting the Soul Hunters to return to the doings of the younger races for another thousand years at least, but it seems I was wrong. I have heard the Well of Souls speak to young Primarch Sinoval. I have heard my children within the Well.... they are a part of me even now, you know. Primarch Sinoval.... he denies destiny, and he spurns his doom. He makes his own way. I cannot tell if he is walking a hero's path, or a fool's.
Your children...? You are a First One?
To an extent. I am the First One. The first living being spun out of the fabric of the universe, all those years ago. Time seems to have sped up recently. It moved so slowly back then.
You are immortal?
I am. We are all immortal, in our own ways.
What do you mean? Am I.... dead?
No. Your wounds would not have been fatal in any event. At least, not to you. I did what I could to repair them, little mother. A simple matter of the manipulation of energies.
Then what is to happen to me?
That.... is for you to decide. You were warned that you would have to make a choice, were you not?
Yes.... Yes.... the technomages.... they told me....
This is where you must choose.
Choose between what? I don't understand!
Not yet. You must see things first. You must revisit the past, and maybe even a glimpse of the future you think is written in stone.
Stones can be shattered.
Exactly. Come now.... look.... and learn....
* * * He was not stopped at customs. In fact no one seemed to notice him as he breezed past the usual array of tourists, businessmen, soldiers, refugees and journalists. Why would anyone notice him, after all? He had not been particularly famous or renowned when he was alive. Oh, some small recognition in his chosen field, but it was a small and closed field at best.
And now, after his 'death', people had a tendency not to notice him. That had got him out of a fair number of predicaments, and even a cell or two.
Fortunately for Mr. Morden, people could see him sufficiently well for him to stop a taxi. He smiled at the driver and got inside. He had been away for quite a while, but some things never changed.
'Where to, sir?' asked the driver.
Sir? Morden was impressed, and made a mental note to give a bigger than usual tip. His associates could afford it, and respect like that deserved to be rewarded. 'Sector One-one-one, the Edgars Building.'
'Right you are, sir. Had you figured for a business type the instant I saw you, so I did. Just come in from offworld, huh? Been doing some business at Beta Durani, or out in the Vega system, perhaps?'
'A bit further than that, actually.'
'Ah, with the aliens, eh? That musta been exciting. We get a few aliens through here. Narns, mostly, although not as many as we used to. Which is all for the good if you ask me. I mean, yeah, we've had some help from aliens in the past, but we shouldn't have to go grovelling to other races for a bit of help now, should we?'
'I guess not,' he replied, faintly amused.
'Now that's what I like about these allies of ours. We don't have to grovel. They want to help us, and don't ask a single damned thing in return. They just want to help, they say. Hey, you been offworld a while. You won't have seen their flyby at New Year, will you?'
'No, I'm afraid I didn't.'
'Hot damn, you really missed something, sir. That was impressive, seeing all those ships pass by overhead.... it sure was something. My Rosa.... that's the missus, twenty years the ball and chain, eh? Well, my Rosa said they creeped her out, and I sorta get what she meant, but they were still impressive. We've got nothing to fear from them anyway. They're our allies, right?'
'Looks can be deceiving.'
