He believed there was no God. And if there was a God, and He had willed all that had happened to happen, then Galen despised Him almost as much as he despised himself. So in that, her final task, he must fail, as he had failed in so much else.
Besides, if he did open himself again, he knew what would come out. Destruction.
Death was certainly his long-overdue punishment. If that was to be his fate, he only hoped the Circle would find some other way to stop Elizar.
For Elizar must be stopped. Elizar and Razeel, he corrected himself. Elizar and Razeel must be stopped.
The golden cluster of the transceiver shifted, taking on Elizar's face. "This is your own fault, Galen. If you had joined me, if you had shared your secret, none of this would be necessary."
Galen jerked erect, disoriented. He had nearly fallen asleep. It was late. He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. It must be the organelles, pushing him to sleep so they could better perform their healing tasks.
He had lost track of his exercises. He began a new one, trying to rouse himself. But he was too tired to do what he planned. He needed to rest.
He broke contact with the organelle and lay down, his head hitting the pillow before he expected it.
More than anything, he wanted to kill Elizar and Razeel. How good it had felt to kill Tilar. And how much better it would feel to kill them.
Elric lay in the dark, his body throbbing with emptiness. He no longer fought it; he simply allowed it to fill him, to define him. He found no point, anymore, in struggling against it. Some of the others had gone this way. They had spoken to him of their weariness, of the effort to endure. He had always thought it worth the effort, to continue to do what good he could. Yet he no longer