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see some more of what I know." He brought his hands to his mouth, with a jerk of his head uttered a long, sustained syllable. Then blackness was growing up over his shoulders, spreading down his chest, out along his arms, across his face. Elizar stood covered in glittering black Shadow skin.

Galen continued his bombardment, forcing his mind to work faster, faster. He scanned the Shadow skin for signs of weakening; his attacks caused only a slight, temporary heating. Elizar's skin was stronger than the skin of the machine people, a hundred times stronger than a mage defensive shield.

This must be the shield their creators had meant them to have. Agents of chaos and destruction would need strong protection.

"This is pointless," Elizar said, his voice passing clearly through the barrier. The black skin over his face shifted, and Galen could almost see eyes, nose, mouth.

With an equation of motion, Galen drove his final ball into the rock at Elizar's feet. As the ground blasted apart, Elizar was thrown into the air. Galen conjured a platform, raced out of the cavern, down the long, dark tunnel. He did not have the ability to kill Elizar.



* * *



The outer air-lock door closed behind them. John was now trapped inside the underground city. He was further under Anna's control. She had separated him from Babylon 5, separated him from the White Star. She had just one more step to take to bring him completely under her power.

They removed their breathers, and Anna took his, set them aside, the helpful wife.

"For security reasons," she explained, "they moved all their main structures underground centuries ago. And John..." She extended her hand, looked up at him with love, the love she felt for the machine. "I'll need your gun."

His face carried the
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