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believed his actions would earn him a position superior to Londo's. When he reached his destination, however, he would be killed. Londo's plot was clever, deceitful- worthy of a techno-mage.

Chaos is the nature of the younger races, the Shadow had said. The Centauri, certainly, had long practiced intrigues and assassinations. Yet their politics were little different from any others. The Earth vice president had plotted to assassinate the president and take his place. The Drazi fought their own internal conflicts. Perhaps the Shadows were right. Perhaps they were all programmed for violence and destruction, every intelligent being in the universe.

"He must really love killing people," G'Leel said. She was watching Morden hand payment to the tailor. With his purchases loaded in two bags, that maddening smile on his face, Morden left the stall. "He's such a cheerful bastard."

Galen automatically switched from camera to camera, following him. Morden certainly did seem to love his work. A mild smile was his most common expression. Perhaps the Shadows whispered to him of his future power and glory.

Galen remembered the strange blank signal he'd detected coming from Morden, and reviewed his recording. The transmission was a constant, unmodulated carrier wave, apparently exciting the implant in Morden's brain. What was the implant doing, if not receiving a communication?

He checked the position of the tiny implant. From its location behind Morden's eyes, it seemed to be beneath the thalamus, where the hypothalamus would be. All sensory information entering the brain had to pass through the hypothalamus, so it might be a reasonable location for the Shadow implant to convey its communications. The hypothalamus also regulated the secretion of multiple hormones, controlling
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