to survive, a primal presence of which nothing had been heard in eons. That power was out of his control and beyond his reach. Perhaps that First One, whose mediation between order and chaos had generated the ancient rules of engagement, no longer existed. Perhaps he had passed silently beyond the galactic rim. He could not be counted on to save Sheridan.
And Sheridan must not die.
If Kosh worked carefully within his host, he believed he could subtly control Sheridan, push Sheridan to change his decision. The other Vorlons, if they knew of Kosh's presence, would judge that course the correct one. They believed the younger races' purpose was to learn discipline, obedience, self-sacrifice. Sheridan's decision would be seen as undisciplined, self-indulgent. More important, it would greatly lessen the Vorlons' chance of winning this war.
Yet Kosh could not make himself take the action. He and Sheridan had disagreed before, on the involvement of the Vorlons in the war, and Sheridan had been correct. Kosh no longer thought of the Human as his inferior. Moreover, if Sheridan was truly the one who might end this war at last, then he could not be ordered and manipulated like a youth; he must be allowed to make his own decisions. Whether they pleased Kosh or not.
As Sheridan closed his suitcase and set it beside the door, Kosh knew that the decision must be left to him. Perhaps, though, Kosh could remind him of the consequences of his decision, put the truth before him so that Sheridan, himself, would change his mind.
Kosh could not reveal to his host that a piece of him still lived, within. If Sheridan's mind was probed, the enemy could learn of his presence. They might kill Sheridan, just to be rid of this last fragment of Kosh.
He had come to Sheridan before in