He looked up at Draal settled next to the socket which had held Varn. At Zathras’ directions, Draal was about to step into the Machine…

There was a noise and a light and a motion all in one as a PPG blast hit Draal squarely in his back. The Minbari slumped forward. Zathras tried to catch him, but G’Kar could see that it was pointless. Draal was either dead, or dying.

The whole planet shook, as if mourning one who would have been its custodian.

It had taken Susan Ivanova three corridors and two rests before she stopped shaking. She knew that her fear was pointless, and she knew that she had a task to perform, but she could only remember the voice that had spoken to her, a voice that knew exactly what she was, and who she represented. Even her allies seemed affected by that voice, leaving her alone for the first time in years, and leaving her afraid.

Why was she even here? Her mission tonight didn’t even involve Lyta. Was this some perverse self-punishment, or a chance for her to overcome her greatest fear?

If it was, it didn’t work. She was even more afraid now than she had been before.

“Yes, I know,” she whispered. “I know.” Her allies were speaking to her. They were angry. She had jeopardised their secret. There was an enemy here.

“I’ll deal with her,” she said. “Please. Trust me.”

And now back to the true purpose of the night. Ivanova knew where she had to go, and her little detour to watch Miss Alexander had not cost her much time. Her allies had been very generous with their cloaking technology, and so none of the security guards had seen her as she had crept past them. As far as anyone was concerned, she was asleep in her room.

Vice President Morgan Clark certainly thought so. He was very surprised when she woke him.

“Lights,” he muttered. She shed her cloaking equipment and stood there at the edge of his bed watching as the fog of sleep was replaced by growing comprehension in his eyes. He was alone. His wife had been killed on Mars, and he had not remarried.

“Young lady, what are you doing here?” he asked. “I’m…”

Young lady? She wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or patronised.

“You’re very valuable to my friends, Vice President,” she said. “You’re ambitious and you’re immoral. We like qualities like that. You can go far, and you will. With our help.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“What do you want, Vice President? What do you want?”

“What do you mean? How did you get past the guards?”

“That’s my concern. Well? Oh, there’s no need to answer. I know what you want. You want power. You want humanity back to its rightful place. You want to be the architect of humanity’s restoration. We admire desires like that. You can be a great help to us, Vice President, and as a reward, I’m going to let you see my friends.”

She could see his eyes widen as the two Shadows by her side came into view. He was gasping, unable to find anything to say…

“And we have a little gift for you.” Susan opened her hands.

The Keeper’s eye opened.

Sheridan wasn’t sure what had happened. He had managed to draw his weapon at last, and had been accurate enough to keep Kalain at a distance. The ground was unstable, and he hadn’t yet hit his opponent.

Then the ground had shaken again, and Kalain was the one who had fallen off balance this time. Sheridan had steadied himself, and aimed…

…and the ground shook. He had fallen to the side as he fired. His shot had missed Kalain easily, and torn into Draal.

Kalain had noticed this and simply looked at Draal for a minute. Sheridan was too stunned to fire.

And then Kalain turned his attention back to Sheridan.

He charged.

Marcus had ceased thinking by this stage. His sole concern was the ship that loomed up before him, huge and beautiful and deadly all at the same time. His sole concern was avoiding its fire, and hitting it, no matter how weakly. At least he could do something.

But no. He couldn’t even do that.

“Marcus! Look out!” screamed Neeoma’s voice.

He started, and a Minbari flyer fell directly into his view. It fired, and tore into his engines. He started and tried to respond, but all his shots were inaccurate, or weak, or ineffectual.

“Eject!” Neeoma cried. “Marcus, eject!”

Back on Proxima 3, Lyta Alexander screamed his name.

G’Kar looked at Draal’s body, and then at Varn. “Go…” the dying alien whispered. “Go…”

“You heard,” said Mathras. “Go to Machine. Take Machine. Is yours now. Yours! Go!”

G’Kar understood. Then this was to be his destiny. He rose, and ran towards the Heart of the Machine. The whole planet was unstable. It needed a guardian. It needed him.

Zathras showed him how to fix himself into the heart. G’Kar whispered a prayer to G’Quan as he did so…

And the Machine welcomed him.

The first Sheridan knew of it was when the planet stopped shaking. The second was when he was thrown to the ground by a force he didn’t see. His PPG was wrenched from him. He groaned as he hit the ground, and he looked up. Kalain was similarly felled, his own weapon far away. And then Sheridan turned to the Heart of the Machine.

“There will be no fighting here,” G’Kar said. “I have stopped you, and I have stopped your ships. This place is to be a sanctuary from the Darkness that is coming. There is to be no violence here. This is a place of Light.

“Each of you has the potential to be a soldier of Light. When you realise this, return here, and swear yourselves to the Army of Light. For now, go, and do not return until you are ready.”

Sheridan and Kalain were about to protest, when G’Kar cut them off. “Go! Or I will destroy your ships, and you.”

Kalain looked at Sheridan. “I will see you dead, Starkiller.”

“Tell Sinoval I’m waiting for another meeting. Make an appointment with him, won’t you?”

Kalain snarled and left, retrieving his weapon as he did so.

Sheridan picked up his own PPG, but instead of making his way back to the shuttle, he went to Draal’s body, and closed the Minbari’s eyes slowly.

“Minbari do not do that to their dead,” G’Kar said.

“I know, but Kalain seemed to have forgotten him.”

“He will be cremated here. He was nearly a part of this Machine, after all. His own people seem to have forsaken him, but we will not.”

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Then tell that to Delenn. She knew him, and she loved him. Tell her you are sorry. Not me.”

Sheridan looked at G’Kar and then bowed his head. He left, returning to his shuttle. He missed seeing G’Kar look around in awe and terror. “Blessed G’Quan,” he breathed. “Have I done the right thing?”

“Of course,” replied Zathras. “Of course. We will teach you how to use the Machine, and you will use it. A fortress of light. All alone in the night, but at least there is one hope now.”

“I suppose so. I will have to contact Neroon and Ta’Lon. Our previous fortress was destroyed. We have a new one now.”

“Good good. Yes, very good. Sometimes, things do work out right.”

“Not for all of us.”

Zathras shared G’Kar’s gaze at Draal. “No. No, not for all, but sometimes, for some, things go right. What more is there?”

G’Kar suddenly started. He didn’t know quite what, but he knew that something was wrong. But…

“Don’t worry,” Zathras said. “Not for us to interfere. Is destiny, yes. We were not involved then, we cannot be involved now.”

“But…” G’Kar suddenly realised. “I did this. The Machine did. Or… I will do this?”

Zathras smiled.

Sheridan returned to the Babylon, and listened as Corwin listed the four dead in the battle, and the damage to the hull and other systems. The Great Machine had launched a number of missiles to keep the two ships from destroying each other, and one of those missiles had done some damage to the jump engines.