Summoning Light (6 page)

Elric took a final breath of the sea air and forced himself up the ramp. Galen at last turned to his own ship, so Elric could slow without being observed. He took one more look back at the mak. Life was fragile, fleeting. He hoped that no ill would come to this place.

He had done what duty required. And as he was abandoning Soom, so the mages would abandon the galaxy. So they had abandoned their vow to do good. Elric could not imagine how they might regain their commitment to the Code, how they might survive the coming conflict as the order he had loved. Perhaps the rest of the Circle knew better than he did. For Elric could not see the path to their survival.

But he was tired. Perhaps, after he rested, he would see new possibilities. He must not give in to despair. He must stay strong for the mages.

He continued up the ramp, and he did not look back again.

C
HAPTER 3

The ship responded eagerly to Galen's direction, echoing his commands and carrying them out. Behind, Elric's ship followed.

Galen sat in darkness, his heart pounding, and tried to think of nothing, to be nothing. Let the time slide by, and let him slide through it, like the ships gliding through the endless currents of hyperspace.

Yet his mind would be still no longer. The blank emptiness that had been shielding him these past weeks had finally slipped away. Since the convocation, he realized, he'd been insulated in that place deep inside, where he hid from himself. Now worry had drawn him out, and he couldn't go back, couldn't drift away and dissolve into mist like a ghost. He pushed the worry down, focused on his surroundings, on the workings of his ship.

A piece of his chrysalis had been incorporated into it, just as with his staff. Two of the Kinetic Grimlis, the group of mages that made the ships for all of them, had stayed behind after the end of the convocation to help him integrate the chrysalis, and to train him in the ship's operation. He had listened with little interest to their rapid instruction regarding engines, weapons, maintenance. What good was a ship, if the mages were all to withdraw to a hiding place for the indefinite future? He might as well travel with Elric, as he always had in the past.

Elric had convinced him to take a few training flights, but Galen had felt little desire to explore the capabilities of the ship, or the nature of his connection with it. More than that, he had found the connection uncomfortable. Associating with the ship, as with his staff, triggered a startling surge of nervous anticipation, as if he'd been injected with adrenaline. The energy from the chrysalis interacted with the restless undercurrent of the implants in a phenomenon mages called parallelism. Thoughts and feelings echoed back and forth between ship and implants, repeating themselves again and again, trapped in a rapid, swelling reverberation that could easily become overwhelming. It was a state he preferred to avoid.

This time, as he associated with the ship, it had been his concern for Elric that had echoed between him and the chrysalis-thoughts of Elric weakening, of Elric dying, quickly escalating into panic. He had done a mind-focusing exercise to calm himself, and gradually the panic had lessened. He had maintained control of himself, and the tech. Yet still his fear persisted, holding him pinned to the present and the pounding of his heart.

Elric had been the one certainty in his life, the wall of strength beside him. Out there on the mak, he had thought Elric was burning to death. He'd thought Elric would die. And though Elric had survived, the fire had left its mark. He had aged before Galen's eyes, the frown lines between his eyebrows deepening, his chest curving inward, his body growing weak. Elric's standing stones had crumbled to dust, just as Elizar had foretold. Perhaps Elric himself had not yet crumbled, but the process had begun.

How rapid his deterioration might be, how many years might be cut from his life, they would learn only with time. But after Kell's resignation, the mages could not afford to lose Elric. And Galen could not stand to lose him.

In his mind's eye, Galen checked again on Elric's ship, seeing through his ship's sensors. They gave him the full view of the area surrounding his ship, as if its walls were transparent. A steady distance behind and to starboard, the sleek black triangle of Elric's ship cut through the billowing red turmoil of hyperspace. Its side radiated the three frequencies high in the ultraviolet in which mages hid signs. Correctly combined, the three signals revealed the rune Elric had chosen to represent himself. The rune came from the language of the Taratimude, the ancient, extinct species who had, a thousand years ago, created the tech and made themselves into the first techno-mages. Elric's rune signified integrity.

The familiar symbol offered no reassurance, though. Elric's strength was broken. Their home was destroyed. So much had been lost. Nothing was the same as it had been. Nothing ever would be.

His anxiety was echoed by the ship, echoed again by his tech. His pounding heart quickened.

Again he forced his mind away, focusing instead on the steady stream of data communicated to him by his ship. It fed him information about hyperspace currents, surrounding conditions, thrust output, fuel consumption. It calculated and updated his position. As the ship did all these things, it felt as if he were doing them, as if a part of his mind were engaged in these tasks, just as a part of him might be engaged in walking while the rest of his mind concentrated on other things.

To direct the ship, he selected from a menu of options in his mind's eye. The result was a ship that, while not alive in and of itself, was an extension of him, like an extra limb. The intimate connection allowed him to control the ship more quickly and with greater instinct than any traditional pilot.

Galen had long daydreamed about having his own ship, going on grand quests to restore the glory of the techno-mages, quests he had planned with Elizar. Now he had his ship. But he no longer dreamed of quests. He no longer believed the glory of the techno-mages could be restored. Not when they had decided to turn their backs on the universe.

But they certainly had fast, sophisticated ships in which to flee.

Galen realized that his ship had reached the end of its hyperspace course and was preparing to form a jump point for the drop into normal space. Elric's ship would follow.

He formed the jump point, an immense vortex of orange with a tiny heart of blackness at its very center. With a great rush of speed he was sucked into it. For an instant the ship's readings went blank, and he lost all sense of direction or movement.

Then the calm blackness of normal space appeared around him. He looked anxiously toward the jump point behind him, now a swirling blue. From the eye of the vortex Elric's ship emerged.

They were on the outskirts of the Selic system. Here all the mages were gathering in preparation for their flight to the hiding place. The system and those surrounding it were unoccupied, unfriendly to life and of little commercial interest. The gathering place was on the fourth planet, where two hundred years ago a religious cult had built a retreat. Poor organization and corruption had left many of the loyal believers without food, and those who hadn't been able to flee on the few available ships had died after a brief descent into cannibalism.

Elric had commented that he hoped their use of the facility would be more successful.

Blaylock had discovered the unused facility some years ago, and had proposed it to the Circle as the perfect place for the mages to cloister themselves from outsiders and focus on realizing their destiny: forming a perfect union with the tech. Although the Circle had rejected his proposal then, they had realized Selic 4 was the perfect place for them to gather now in secrecy. The facility had required numerous repairs and upgrades to sustain them for even this short time, but under the direction of Blaylock, the work had quickly been completed.

As Galen's ship moved past the massive fifth planet, he visualized the equation to create a message. He didn't want to disturb Elric's rest, but Elric would not appreciate Galen landing their ships while he remained asleep. And Galen would feel much better knowing Elric's condition. He composed the message.
We are nearing Selic 4. Shall I continue to control both ships?
He sent it to Elric.

While he waited anxiously for an answer, he noticed an object approaching the fourth planet at right angles to their course. It was another mage ship. It displayed the rune for knowledge, Kell's sign.

Memory flashed through him. He had last seen that symbol as Kell had flown away from Soom, leaving the mages after revealing all he had done. The shape burned into Galen's mind, reaching down into buried layers. Alone with Elric for the past month, Galen had been able to forget much, to turn his back on the memories surrounding the last convocation, as he had turned his back on those of his parents years ago. But Kell had been the mover behind those recent events. He carried with him those memories, and as Galen looked at his ship, they closed around him with increasing pressure, threatening to bleed through.

Galen had thought he would never have to face Kell again. Kell's knowledge could no doubt be useful to the mages, and for any help Kell might offer them, Galen would be grateful. But while part of his mind carried on these superficial, charitable thoughts, in another, deeper place, anger was seeping out from where he had buried it, anger at all Kell had done: the deceptions, the reckless manipulations. And when Kell's plans had failed, he had simply walked away. Galen's anger was echoed by the ship, echoed again by his tech, the echoes overlapping and quickening, reflecting back and forth, building like the tolling of a bell in a bell tower to overwhelming intensity.

Kell had known of the Shadows' return. Kell had kept secret the Shadows. Kell had encouraged Elizar to go to the Shadows. He had helped to create a killer. Kell had sent them needlessly into danger. Kell had sent them to know what was already known. There had been no need. They could have stayed. Then everything would not have changed. Everything would not have been lost. But because of Kell, she was dead. Dead.

She.

Isabelle.

He had spent a month hiding from that name, and now it rang inside him. The tech's agitating energy welled up in a rush of heat, energy driving through him, urging him toward action.

Isabelle. Isabelle.

He could not see her face, only the small clear tube of ash that had lain on his palm. In conjured fire her body had been reduced to dust. Dust to dust.

The rage swelled, reverberating through him. He had been holding it inside all this time, holding it so tightly he hadn't even known it was there. He had kept it in so long; could he not be allowed, finally, to act?

His body was trembling, fists clenched, heart racing. Fire burned along the meridians of his tech, the same fire that had consumed Isabelle, that had crippled Elric. But in his case the fire was a source of strength, a source of hate and destruction. Morden had told him, and Morden had been right. Galen was just like the Shadows. All he wanted was destruction.

He would take that hate and strike back against the pain, strike back at his enemy. Kell's ship was well within range of his weapons. He brought them to bear.

He need only select fire from the menu of options. And Kell would be killed.

Then her face came to him, slack in death, as it had looked after Elizar's spike had wound its way into her brain. Her head was tilted to one side. A partially healed cut ran down the right side of her forehead into her thin, upslanted brow. Her lips were slightly parted, her grey eyes blank and cold. Her skin carried an odd shininess, a sense of artifice. This was not her. This was an empty vessel. The light of her essence had gone.

And he had failed to save her.

The full weight of his grief at that moment fell upon him, and more than anything he wanted to lash out, to find some release from the pain. Yet he knew. She had died because he had upheld his vows. He had sworn to be worthy of the Circle's trust. He had sworn to follow the Code. And he had done so, even when it had cost her life.

Now would he break that Code? Would he reveal that she had died for nothing?

No. No.

He took refuge in a mind-focusing exercise, blocking out the images of the ship's sensors, closing down his thoughts, burying the memories, narrowing his attention to a blank screen in his mind. First he visualized just the letter A in glowing blue on the left side of the screen, fixing on it with ferocious intensity. The image echoed back to him. Then he visualized B appearing beside A, and he held the image of them both in his mind. Then it was ABC, all in his mind at once, each individual letter clear while the whole also remained clear. Retaining clarity required concentration, and became more difficult as the exercise progressed.

He added letter after letter in a neat row, keeping the images of them all in his mind at once. The orderly progression echoed back to him. Bit by bit, the energy calmed, decreased. Gradually his heart slowed; his trembling stopped. The heat dissipated from his body. The anger remained, and the constant undercurrent, yet he would not act on them.

He had almost slipped, as he had when he'd attacked Elizar at the convocation. He had determined then never to let it happen again, and he had maintained control through much more difficult circumstances than this. Yet over the last weeks, in his desire to lose himself, to fade into transparency, he had relaxed his tight control. And today he had nearly attacked another mage.

Galen realized he had a message from Elric. He opened it quickly, worry echoing through him.

I have tried to contact Kell. There is no response. No life signs in the ship beyond those of the chrysalis.

He had been so blinded by anger, he had nearly attacked an empty ship.

Galen used his sensors, confirmed Elric's findings. Then where was Kell?

They had received reports of some mages being attacked, and of others who seemed to have disappeared, not arriving at the gathering place at their scheduled times. Whether they had encountered Shadows or Vorlons, decided to stay behind in defiance of the Circle, or died with the destruction of their places of power, no one knew. There was no time to investigate.