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image of his god, he had seemed convinced of the illusion's reality. Galen believed his answers were true, despite his later claims. Once the Drakh had been tranquilized, though, things had changed. The Shadow had manipulated the unconscious Drakh like a puppet, trying to repair the damage. The Shadow had controlled him through some sort of transmission.

Galen thought back to the times they'd picked up static on the probes-a Shadow in the room, somehow hidden, yet watching the Drakh, directing him.

Isabelle came out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. "She's not asleep, but she's resting. She looks better." Isabelle flashed him a small, hopeful smile.

"Good." Galen smiled back, glad to see that the hard anger had finally left her face. "I was just thinking of those times we saw static through the probes. The Drakh never spoke to the Shadow."

Isabelle nodded. "Except that word-that untranslatable word he said when he was coming out of the illusion. I think he was calling for it."

"I think so too. But he was disoriented then. What if their normal method of communication is through that transmission I detected, a transmission that involves the lower protuberance of the Drakh's brain?"

Isabelle brought her hands together and her fingers moved. He knew she was calling up her recording. "Then if we could intercept and decode those transmissions," she said, "we would have access to some of their most private communications." She drifted to the armchair beside the sofa. "If you work on intercepting, I'll take decoding."

He returned to the recording, focusing on the excitation he had sensed in the Drakh's brain. The energy producing the excitation was in a narrow band. He studied the breakdown of frequencies, amplitudes. The signal was compressed,
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