He sighed, and shook his head. 'How are you doing anyway? Have the sleepers worn off yet?'
She made a face. 'Not yet. Another few hours, I think. It's.... weird. It's like.... having lived all your life in a place with loud music coming from the next room, and the music has suddenly stopped dead. I've got so used to being able to tell what someone's thinking, and now.... I know they'll come back, and I know there's more to me than just my powers, but still.... It's.... difficult.'
'So, you can tell what people are thinking?' He looked worried.
'Most of the time. Strong emotions, mainly.'
'Then, you could tell some things I've.... been thinking?'
'Some of the time. I'll teach you how to block your thoughts, if you like. It doesn't take too much skill or power.'
'That would be.... helpful.'
'For both of us. Some of your thoughts.... really shouldn't be directed in the presence of a lady.'
'Let me know where one is, and I'll take that advice.' She headed back to his arm, and continued bandaging. 'That was a joke. You do know that was a.... Ow!'
'Sorry. My hand slipped.'
'I'll bet. Ouch!'
* * * The skies above Kazomi 7 shimmered, and a jump point opened.
'Home at last,' said the voice of the Babylon's second in command. Despite the cheeriness of his words, he was feeling anything but happy. Nothing about this mission had gone right. Not a thing. They had gone to Z'ha'dum to rescue Delenn, only to learn that she was dead. How the Captain had known this he was not sure, but Delenn was gone now.
On top of that, the Babylon's telepath Lyta Alexander was in a coma. The doctor was unable to identify what was wrong with her, other than some symptoms of exhaustion.
And as if that weren't enough, the Captain had not said a single word since they had entered hyperspace at Z'ha'dum. He merely sat in his chair on the bridge, not eating, not sleeping, doing nothing but sit and brood the whole journey back.
And now that they were back, Corwin's bad feeling was worsening.
'Captain.... Commander,' said the helm tech, Guerra. 'Um.... There's something here, in orbit around the planet. The instruments don't seem to recognise it. Not a ship, but....'
'What is it?' asked Corwin. The Captain did not seem to react.
'No, we have got it on record. The Morningstar sent the details over after the Battle of Minbar. It's the Soul Hunter base. It's called....'
'Cathedral,' muttered Corwin. He breathed out slowly, unsure whether this was a good thing, or a bad thing.
Or a very very bad thing.
'Cathedral,' said the Captain suddenly, his eyes glinting. 'Well, well.' He sat forward. 'So, Primarch Sinoval's come for a visit.
'Won't this be interesting?'
Why are you asking me all these questions?
The power to question is the greatest gift the universe has given her children. For only by questioning the things we see around us can any of us grow. The sense of wonder, of mystery, of puzzles to be solved.... Where would anyone be if we knew the answers to all the questions ever asked? What would there be left to aim for with all the knowledge of the universe at our fingertips?
Not even you know everything?
I am no nearer to knowing the answers to all the mysteries of life than you are. I may have had more time to ponder them, but that has only brought home to me just how little any of us knows.
Then what mystery are you trying to solve now?
You.
What?
Ah. I apologise. Let me be clearer. Nothing is written in stone, as we have said already. There are prophecies spoken of, yes. There are flashes of what is to come, brief hints as we pass the veil of time to look forward or back. But few things are definite, solid, precise. We live, we grow old, we die. That is the truth for all things.
Apart from you.
I will die, in due time. Even the universe herself will die someday. Maybe I will still be here then. I was not the only member of my race born in this place, you know. The first generation of my people.... we do not die as you do, but injury, illness, war.... They have plagued us every bit as much as they do you. I still live only because I have not yet succumbed.
You were saying something about the future.
Ah, yes. My mind wanders from time to time. I do apologise.
Accepted.
As I was saying, nothing is definite, but there are.... patterns that may be traced by those with the skill to do so. Certain divinations, certain paths may be spotted. Through subtle manipulations and delicate calculations it is possible to shape the course of the future as you desire. The Vorlons have grown skilled at this over the many years they have lived. That was why they sent you here, as part of a shaping of the future.
And that's why they saved John?
I assume he is a vital component in the future they wish to shape. But they are not the only ones with that skill. The technomages, the Soul Hunters, the inhabitants of this world, those you know as the Shadows.... all have been trying to mould the course of destiny. The technomages are bound by certain laws of conduct, and the Soul Hunters are still tied to the oaths exacted from them by the Well of Souls. Once, the Vorlons and the Shadows were bound by oaths, but they have long since forgotten such things.
What oath?
Why, to protect and to guide the younger races. As the majority of the First Ones left this galaxy to pass beyond the Rim to the next, they chose to remain, shepherds to the younger races. Each advocated a different path: chaos and struggle and endeavour on the one hand; precise order and discipline on the other.
But.... they failed?
Over time it became simply a matter of proving which side was right. <sigh> It is a terrible thing when your children fight. They have forgotten the way. Some of the Vorlons remembered, but I felt the passing of the last one not long ago. I met him once, Kosh. You have as well.
Yes. He was.... a part of me.
I know. He remembered. He was one of the last. Now Vorlon and Shadow war indiscriminately, forgetting their original purpose. Their wars will not last forever, though. An ending will come soon, in a year, or ten, or a hundred, or a thousand. An ending will come.
What sort of ending?
Ah, that is very much for you to decide. You see, the future is not set in stone, but there are paths that diverge and converge, weaving their ways slowly through the fabric of time. There are many such paths, but two that stand out clearer than the others. The time of choice is here. The technomages saw that this time would come, and sought to shepherd you in the right direction. Into the right choice. I do not give advice, or counsel. I simply present you with the options before you.
