It really wasn't a particularly spectacular event. There were no more words exchanged, only anxious looks and nods, as Chambers and Alwyn approached Galen and injected the antibiotic.

Despite the lack of anything exciting to see, the audience was large enough. Lined up behind the isolation room window were not only Gideon but also Matheson, Dureena, and, surprisingly enough, Max Eilerson. They were silent as well.

Dureena was the one to break the general silence. "Well, what now?" she asked.

"Now, we wait," Alwyn replied absently. He seemed to be concentrating, watching something that only he could see.

"It'll take a while - it needs to spread all around so it can reach all the monster particles and take them out," Chambers added. Most of her attention was on a computer screen. When she spoke again, she looked up from it, aiming her words at Alwyn. "His body temperature is rising."

"As we feared it would," he said, without looking at her. "What do your scanners say of the antibiotic's progress?"

"The injection site is clear, but it's not very widely spread elsewhere."

"Quite accurate, I should say," Alwyn replied, and Chambers couldn't quite figure out whether it was irony or not.

"At least it's working just like we expected. I'd estimate five percent of the monster's incapacitated. I'm adjusting the life-support system to compensate for the extra stress and rise in temperature, allowing a faster pulse and respiratory rate, though I'd rather not let it go any further. I don't think he can take it all that long. I wish we had some other way of doing this," Chambers spoke maybe more to the onlookers than to the preoccupied Alwyn.

"As to the monster, four point six percent would be my count, at the moment. I think enough has been taken out already for me to do what I'd usually do in such a situation."

Chambers wasn't sure what Alwyn meant, but it became clear soon enough. He laid his hand on Galen, and from her screen, Chambers saw a wave of organelles entering his body. Then another, and another, and even more. After a while, Alwyn let go and staggered back, looking dazed.

"Alwyn?" she called out, and offered him her arm. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I just... just have to try to give him as many as I can. That makes me a bit dizzy. It's no problem," he said, whisking her away.

Alwyn approached Galen again. He had produced a crystal of some sort from the folds of his robe. It was hanging from a chain. He held it over Galen's body, again a look of deep concentration on his face, his eyes closed. "I wish we had a real healer around," he muttered in a low voice. "I don't think I've ever, in all my years, faced anything this difficult."

The atmosphere behind the window was even more tense now - Dureena's nose was practically touching the transparent surface, and Eilerson was tapping the floor irritably with his foot. Chambers completely shared their feelings, as she stared at the screen. What she saw was very promising.

"It's working!" she exclaimed. "It's more than working, it's... It's just plain amazing! I can see your organelles have adapted and the antibiotic does nothing to them - they even use it like a shield - and since they're living tech, they attract the monsters, drawing them right into their doom. Some forty percent of it is out, already! I would never have imagined it could work this fast. And his body temperature's stabilized as well."

Considering everything Chambers knew about antibiotics, she had been expecting a long, tedious wait - hours, at least, or, more likely, days - far longer than Galen could stand it. But this was not a slow fight. With Alwyn's help, they were going to wipe out the monster within the hour. What would happen then, she didn't know. They still needed a way to restart the tech, unless it was going to magically return once the thing that had shut it down was gone. Alwyn, at least, had not seemed to think it would. She really, really hoped Alwyn had some idea as to how they were going to turn it on again.

With immense satisfaction, Alwyn watched through the crystal how the organelles faced the very last of the monsters and incapacitated them. It would take much longer for them to completely dissolve, but they could not harm Galen anymore. Never again.

His fingers were cramped around the chain of the crystal, and he had to use all his willpower to lower his hand and let go of it, straightening his fingers one at a time, even though he knew he had already done what he could. He had done well, far better than he had thought possible. Not only had he managed to destroy the monsters in a very short time, but he had also protected Galen's body from the antibiotic's unwanted effects, most importantly its neurotoxicity, which had been his greatest worry. Whatever remained of Galen's mind, it was still untouched. He had not let it become any worse.

"Amazing," doctor Chambers repeated once again. She had apparently forgotten all other words. The onlookers behind the window, captain Gideon, the alien woman Alwyn identified as Dureena, based on what Galen had told him, and the few others Alwyn didn't know, they all looked happy - still anxious, but less worried, certain that all was going to be well.

"Amazing... So, what next?" Chambers asked.

Alwyn didn't answer, except with a vague wave of his hand.

He took a deep breath, wiped sweat from his forehead, massaged his temples. It had been such a strain. And there was still more to come. He was ready and willing to do all he could. He was not going to lose Galen. Not now that they were already so close. He would not let the Shadows claim another victim even when they were long gone from the known universe.

Alwyn had known, the moment they had scanned the monster and zoomed in, the moment he had seen it on the screen. He had thought of it as soon as he had seen what had happened to Galen, but the image had made him sure of it. The way it resembled the tech, and still wasn't quite the same. It was Shadow technology, just like the tech.

The tech had been disguised so they would accept it without doubt, it had been made to look pretty - a Trojan horse. This monster was not pretty. It looked like what it was. What was even worse, even though it was evidently of Shadow origin, Alwyn thought he perceived something else. A techno-mage influence on the Shadow technology. It might have been one of their own. One who had turned against his kind, and accepted the blueprints, the original seed, basic idea of this weapon, from the Shadows, and then finished it and made it real. It was a disgusting thought. Perhaps Galen could tell him the truth, if only...

But there were no ifs, no buts to it. There couldn't be. Galen was going to be all right.

All he had to do was to figure out how to turn on the tech.

Deep down, he had hoped that removing the monsters would return the tech. That they lingered in the victim's system, seemingly inactive, for just that reason: because there was some undetectable signal that kept the tech off, a signal that would be removed when the monsters were gone, and then the tech would come back as if nothing had ever happened.

He had also known that it would not, could not be that easy. He suspected that the monster stayed in its victim for another reason. Its maker had wanted to be sure that once the task was done and all the tech was dead, the victim could never be healed again by any other techno-mage. That no piece of tech, no matter how small, could ever enter the victim's body again.

The monster's maker had lost. The monster was gone from Galen's system, and there were plenty of organelles in there. Alwyn's organelles. Organelles were small, and they were rather stupid. Without something, someone coordinating them, they would be inefficient. Alwyn would have to be here, by Galen's side, guiding them through his crystal. They would do nothing useful when left on their own.

Alwyn grabbed the crystal again and hung it above Galen's head. He checked the data, blinked, shook his head, checked again. It made no sense.

Just when he had finished telling himself that the organelles couldn't do anything organized and coordinated without outside help, his very own organelles were working against that rule. They were flocking, gathering together, and wrapping themselves around Galen's dead tech, touching it. Just like the monsters had done, only it was somehow very different. Even though it made no sense at all, Alwyn had the impression that the organelles were sad, mourning for the tech. They wanted to help, wanted it to live again, and as they touched it, they caressed it gently, like a dog nuzzling its dead master.

There were not enough organelles to cover all of Galen's tech. He needed more. Especially in the brain. Careful not to touch any of the ventilator tubing, Alwyn slid his hand down to Galen's neck, sending organelles straight into the carotid artery. He sent as many as he could, until there were spots dancing in front of his eyes and he felt he would faint if he went on.

Had he turned his head, he would have seen that Chambers was biting her nails - something she never, ever did, most certainly not when she was at work, had not done for years. He would also have noticed how the people behind the window had left their places there and entered the room itself, surrounding him and Galen. But he didn't look.

Alwyn did not raise the crystal anymore, even though it would have offered the best means of watching what was going on. He was afraid it would disturb the odd, independent behavior of the organelles. He had never heard of anything like this. Was it, he wondered, just because such a situation had never occurred before, or was it because Galen's relationship to the tech was unique? Somehow, he was inclined to the latter explanation.

It began very slowly, so slowly that Alwyn thought it was only wishful thinking, that he was only seeing what he hoped and wanted to see.

Through his sensors, far less accurate than the crystal's view through the organelles, he saw a very faint, pale yellow glow flowing along the previously dark and lifeless lines of Galen's tech. It intensified, the flow became a flood, and with it followed the familiar radiation of mage-energy, the normal electro-magnetic signature of the tech.

Alwyn had not known how to revive the tech. He hadn't needed to. His tech had known. And apparently the tech took care of its own.

Lieutenant Matheson stood a few paces apart from everyone else. He had not went directly to Galen's bedside, like Dureena had, or to Chambers and her computer display, like Eilerson, or stayed somewhere in between, gazing at each in turn, like Gideon. He held a general view of what was going on. With it, whether he wanted it or not, came the general mental feel of the situation.

Strong emotions were difficult to block, and surface thoughts could be caught without an actual scan. The room was filled with both, and he had to struggle to keep them out, so he could know for sure which thoughts and feelings were his own. There was still a good deal of worry and uncertainty in the air, but stronger than that, relief and hope. Some single thoughts were clear to discern and assign to the person thinking them, such as Doctor Chambers's wonder as she followed from her screen how the tech slowly returned to life. Some were less simple by far, like Gideon's feelings, a confused jumble of close friendship tainted by uncertainty and a hint of distrust.

Matheson wasn't sure what he felt, himself. Galen was not close to him. They were not friends, but there was no hatred between them, either. Galen was a strange character, someone Matheson couldn't understand. Sometimes he seemed the wisest of all persons he had met, while at other times he was passionate and short-tempered, almost to the point of appearing unstable. But Matheson had not dared to try to touch his mind, no matter how lightly. He was sure Galen would notice.

"I'm... It's... The scanners show that all the tech's coming back, everywhere, including the brain. And I'm getting some pretty unusual readings from there. It's - I don't think there are any regular brain-waves at all, although there is plenty of electro-chemical activity. I think it's the tech," Chambers explained. Eilerson looked very interested, and nodded, maybe to her, or then just to himself.

Alwyn didn't comment to this. His feelings were now so strong that Matheson could not avoid catching some of them. He had not thought he could do this, he had been very uncertain, afraid that they could not save Galen. It looked so promising now, so very promising, but he still could not believe they were through.

Carefully, Matheson reached out to touch Galen's mind, very lightly, just the surface of it, to see if there was anything there this time.

He staggered back, his back hit the window, and he had to lean on a table for support. What he felt was overwhelming and completely alien. It was more alien than any of the non-human minds he had ever felt, its very shape was something he could not understand. The feelings, or thoughts, or whatever they were, he could not rightly name. They were very ancient, deep, wise, something beyond his comprehension, and still primal, primitive and pure, complex but simple. There was nothing human in them. Nothing at all. It was not Galen. It was the tech.

There was only one feeling that he could recognize and understand, and it was stronger than all other impressions, so strong that it nearly drowned him. It was so heart-wrenching that he wanted to cry out. Maybe he did, he couldn't tell.

It was a terrible feeling of loss, emptiness and loneliness. Like the death of a loved one, a parent, a sibling. Even closer to him than that. His own death, except that he was not entirely dead, only a part of him, and he should have been there, he should have died with it.

Matheson was vaguely aware of someone in front of him. Gideon was there. He had grabbed hold of his shoulders, kept him up, shook him. "Lieutenant? John? John, come on! What's wrong?"

He pressed his eyes tightly shut and concentrated. He walled in the odd feelings, closed them away, sent them out of his head, and raised his blocks, thicker than before, so he could hold everything out.

He had just regained his balance and managed to slow down his breathing, and he was telling Gideon that "It's all right, captain, I'm OK. But something's still very wrong with Galen," when an ominous alarm pierced the air.

Its message was made all too clear by the nearby monitor, where the steady waveform of a heartbeat had faded into a flatline.

Author's Note: I know. It's a real killer cliff-hanger. I'm not going to apologize. In a twisted way, I rather enjoy it. ;-)

To be continued...