Peter David - Out of the Darkness

The strain was beginning to show. Vir was looking more tired, even a bit more despondent, than he usually did. But there was still an air of grim determination about him, as if—having decided upon the course he must follow—he had resolved that he would see it through to the end, no matter what.

“You saw?” Vir said without preamble, and Renegar knew precisely what he was talking about.

“How could I not see? That damnable Durla was everywhere. Is it true, though? That someone tried to kill them both? The emperor and Durla?”

“Durla, for the most part. The emperor was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time,” Dunseny said. “That might well summarize his life,” Vir commented ruefully. Then, in a more businesslike tone, he added, “But it’s not going to end there. Durla will never let it end there. If one House head endeavored to dispose of him, he’s going to fear that all of them may form an alliance against him.”

“You’re saying he’s going to declare war on the Houses?” asked one surly—looking but forceful fighter named Adi. “Without a doubt. And that can only benefit us.”

“How?” The question was echoed around the group, but it was Dunseny who answered. “The House heads have resources. The military may back Durla, making his power unassailable, but the Houses have their own resources, ranging from personnel to weapons. Not only that, but there are key military personnel who owe ancient allegiances to the Houses, which supersede any way they may be beholden to Durla. In battling the Houses, in challenging the House heads directly, Durla may be sowingdissent within his own support system.““He won’t realize the danger if he thinks he’s above them… which he does,” Vir said. “It’s the oldest danger in the world: arrogance becomes the enemy’s undoing.”

“Yes… including yours.”

They turned to see who had spoken, and there was a collective and startled gasp from all of them.

A grey—skinned creature stood in the shadows.

Renegar immediately went for his weapon, and the voice boomed again from the monster. “It’s too late. Whatever you do to me is of no consequence. Since I have seen you, I will commune with my brethren, and they will in turn seek you out. I’ve seen all your faces. You’re finished. But first…” The creature paused dramatically. “I’m going to sing a few show tunes.”

The others looked at each other.

“Juuuust me… and my shaaadow…” the creature from the darkness began.

“Tell me I’m dreaming,” Adi said.

Vir was watching the entire scene with a severe lack of amusement. “Finian,” he said sternly. “What sort of foolishness is this? I recognize your voice; I know it’s you.”

At that, the creature slumped to the ground in front of the incredulous group. It was at that point that they were able to see the wound that gaped in the back of its head, thick liquid coagulating around it. Clearly the thing, whatever it was, was dead. Then all eyes shifted as Finian, the technomage, stepped into view. “Did I scare you?”

“Yes,” Vir said flatly.

“Good.” This time it wasn’t Finian who spoke, but rather Gwynn, another technomage who seemed to have taken an interest in the events that occurred on Centauri Prime. Finian, as always, maintained something of an open manner, with his round face and blue eyes that seemed incapable of any sort of deceit. Of course, that alone provided reason enough not to trust him.

As for Gwynn, her attitude was as imperious as ever. She looked at them as if she were observing them from a great height that made their concerns seem childish and irrelevant. Renegar didn’t trust either of them. As a general rule of thumb, trusting technomages wasn’t an especially advisable pastime.

“You have every reason to be scared,” Gwynn continued. “We found him wandering the catacombs. He had a bit of an… accident. Rocks, even boulders, can come loose around here at the most unexpected times. If they strike unexpectedly enough, and with sufficient force…” She shrugged. “The results can be tragic, as you see.”

“What is it?” Adi said, looking at it wonderingly.

“That,” Vir told him, “is a Drakh. One of the creatures I told you about. Told all of you about,” he said, raising his voice. Not that anyone was having trouble hearing him, his voice echoing there in the tunnels. “The creatures who brought a plague to humanity. The ones who are operating behind the scenes here on Centauri Prime. And, I believe, the ones who are truly responsible for the ‘visions’ that our beloved prime minister is always talking about.”

“What’s it doing down here?” Renegar demanded.

“We are not sure,” Gwynn said evenly, “but he may or may not have followed you, Renegar.”

Renegar turned deathly pale. “Impossible,” he spat out. “He couldn’t have known to follow me…”

“Perhaps not,” Finian agreed. “He may have simply stumbled upon the catacombs on his own, and heard people talking. But I don’t think so. I think the Drakh observe everyone, all the time… and something about Renegar’s actions caught this one’s attention.”

The others looked accusingly at Renegar. He stepped back defensively. “I didn’t know!”

Voices began to be raised in anger, but Vir shouted them down. “No one is blaming you, Renegar,” he assured his fellow rebel.

“Then maybe someone should be,” Gwynn responded. “This is not a game, Vir.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” Vir shot back at her. “I had one of these damned things in my head, Gwynn! I know what they’re capable of!”

“Then know that you were most fortunate that we intercepted this one,” Finian said. “We believe that although they have the ability to communicate telepathically with one another, it doesn’t happeninstantaneously. There is a procedure involved in which they sort of ‘agree’ to commune en masse. It takes some effort and preparation, and I doubt this one had the time to engage in it. As far as the Drakh are concerned, this fellow will simply have dropped off the face of the planet. They will keep an eye out for him, put their feelers out, and try to locate him. We will make certain that they do not succeed.”

“We cannot keep covering for you, however,” Gwynn said.

“We haven’t been asking you to,” Vir pointed out. “It’s not as if we’ve been needing you to hold our hands. We’ve been doing fairly well on our own. We’ve managed to impede Durla’s war machine…”

“Not enough.” Again, it was Dunseny who spoke up. In quick, broad strokes he described all that he had heard at the briefing in the Tower of Power.

Vir was pacing by the time Dunseny was finished. “It’s obvious that nothing short of total domination is going to satisfy Durla.”

“Durla and the Drakh who support him,” Finian said.

There were nods from all around. “It’s clear what we have to do,” Renegar said. “What we’ve been doing up to now is fine, as far as it goes. But we have to go further. We have to take on the Drakh, head—to—head. We have to drive these creatures off the face of Centauri Prime!”

There were shouts of agreement, but then Vir’s voice carried over theirs once more. “If we take on the Drakh head—to—head, we’ll be wiped out.”

“You took them on,” Renegar said. “You told me yourself. You blew up that death station that the Shadows left behind.”

“Yes. I did,” Vir confirmed. “And I got lucky. The majority of the Drakh weren’t around when it happened; if they had been, the station would have been left intact. The problem is, the Drakh are always around on Centauri Prime. They’re watching Londo, they’re watching Durla, and they’re watching me. Their agents and influence are everywhere.