Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке - Гэрет Уильямс

He gasped as he felt its pain. It was light and beauty and agony all in one. The Vorlon was going to die, and both of them knew it. The sacrifice would be made willingly. Could he do any less?

"Are you ready?" said the voice from the commscreen. "Are you…?"

He turned to look at Delenn's face in the screen. She was…. beautiful. Her eyes, her bearing, everything…. was marked by a vibrant beauty and a passionate anger. She had taught him a lot since his…. return. He wanted to remain here, to talk with her, to share in her wisdom and to learn from her. It would not be possible.

"I…. think so," he said hesitantly. "I…. thank you. For everything."

"It was no more than my duty, and no less than my pleasure. Be well, and walk with…. Oh. Of course."

He chuckled. "It is all right. For you, it will always be all right."

"Remember me?" More of a question than a request. He smiled, sweetly and sadly. As if there were any other answer.

"Always," he whispered, and touched the image on the commscreen gently. It faded and he straightened, now aware, wondering how he could never have noticed before. She was his descendant, a part of him that had lived on. He felt so much better.

It was time now. After so long, he at last knew his destiny. He was the arrow that springs from the bow. No doubts, no fears. Just certainty.

"Are you ready?" said the voice by his side.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Good, good. Yes, is being very good to being ready. Now is right time to being ready, yes. Zathras is being ready for long time, yes. Zathras has grown tired of waiting sometimes, but Zathras is used to it. Zathras is patient. And now you are ready, yes. Good."

"What about the Enemy?"

"<Click, click> Is being not good. Enemy is being very strong. May get on board before we leave. That is being very not good, but have idea, yes. We get help. That is idea. We get help."

"Help? From where?"

"Past, of course. Two years ago, just as Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar entered Great Machine. There is ship there. Special ship."

"Which ship?" He was told, and then he smiled. "Ah, of course."

"Besides," Zathras added. "We have to stop them. It already happened, and if we do not, then…. time not go well. Paradox. Not good."

"No. I guess not."

"Well well. Greetings, my Minbari friend."

Shaal Lennier, Minbari poet, Ranger and long-suffering companion to Governor Londo Mollari, looked up from his meditation. He was not in a good mood. Peace had been hard to find. Of course, ever since Kazomi 7 it had been hard for him to achieve the necessary spiritual equilibrium, but in a darkened cell, filled with the soft cries of the dying, it was harder still.

And the voices were louder than usual. Something was happening. Something that the…. others regarded as being very important. It was possible that that related to Centauri Prime in some way, but he did not think so.

The instructions being relayed to him were becoming harder to ignore, but Zicree had been true to her word. He could control it, with enough effort and enough meditation. He was beginning to wonder if the price of that control was truly worth it.

And then the door had opened. A dull lantern shone in the room, hurting his eyes. A figure stood there, just beside the now-closed door. He did not know who this figure was, save that he was definitely Centauri, and his hair was very short. Lennier thought that indicated he was not a noble, but he seemed just too self-confident to be otherwise.

"Well," he continued. "Nothing to say? I know you've been alone in this cell for a bit too long, while all the attention has been on dear Londo, but I didn't think we should neglect you altogether." A pause. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Firmly: "No."

"Not at all?"

"I have nothing to say."

"Oh, I doubt that. I doubt that very much. I think you have a great deal to say. Do your friends know about your…. ah…?" He stepped forward and gently tapped Lennier's shoulder. There was a brief surge of pain, and a hissing sound only he heard.

Lennier made no move to attack this person. There was really no point.

"I don't think they do, somehow. Although I am puzzled by just how you've managed to keep it under control this long. Some sort of Minbari meditation, perhaps. Hmm…. you'll have to teach me that."

"Are you…?" He swallowed. "Are you working for them?"

"I'm working for me, I think you'll find. Not the…. ah…. what's your name for them? The Shadows, that's it. Such a wonderful name. I've always liked the way Minbari describe things. Anyway, I'm…. fulfilling my own destiny, but it happens to be on a similar path to theirs at the moment. They do have someone here, you know. So do their opposition for that matter. I don't know who, and I really don't care. I'm just trying to clean up the mess."

He paused, and seemed to be replaying that last line.

"Oh, sorry. I meant to say that I'm just trying to clean up from the mess."

"What do you want?" Lennier asked.

"Ah. I think I'll leave that one for another day."

"Who are you?"

"Both questions at once. And neither of them holds any power over me. I know exactly who I am, and what I want, and I'm in a very good position to get it at last. And you're going to help me, my bald friend."

"I very much doubt that."

"Ah…. but Shaal Lennier, you do not know what I want."

There was a knock at the door, and the Centauri muttered various unpleasant-sounding things under his breath. Lennier was very glad he couldn't translate them. "Yes?"

"Your Highness, you are called to the Court. Immediately." The voice that came through the thick door was filled with respect, and a not-inconsiderable dose of fear.

"Who dares?"

"The Lady Elrisia, your Highness."

"Elrisia? Oh well, that's different then. I'd better go. Open the door." The door was pushed open and the Centauri stepped into the rectangle of light. He turned and looked at Lennier. "I'm sorry this talk was cut short, but I have a feeling we'll see each other again.

"Guard?"

"Yes, your Highness?"

"You will tell no one that I was in this cell. In fact, I was not in this cell, and I was not talking to this prisoner."

"I won't breathe a word, your Highness."

"No. You won't." There was a brief glint of metal, a swift motion, and a bloodied gurgling, followed by the sound of a body falling. "The Minbari had a weapon, so he did. And the guards didn't search him properly. You really can't get the staff these days, can you?"

He tossed the bloodied knife into the cell and closed the door, not fully, but so that it was slightly ajar. "I'll hide the body. Wait…. ooh, half an hour or so, and then make your way out. You can go and free Londo if you like. He's two floors down, in cell thirteen I believe. The guards will be on duty there, but a resourceful person like you will be able to think of something, I'm sure.

"Oh," he said as an afterthought, over the sound of a body being dragged away. "If you do see Londo, tell him his old friend Cartagia would like a word. Whenever he has a free moment, of course."

They did not know where she was. That was good. She did not know where she was. That was bad. But then Susan Ivanova had known very little in the months since she had been changed for a purpose that had been denied her. Now that she was awake for the first time since Laurel had died, she could sense things she had never before known existed.

Whatever they had done to her, augmenting her telepathic powers had been included. She could sense their thoughts now. Everyone on the station, although that was not very many people at the moment. The Narns, the valiant defence force. She felt like laughing. Just what were they fighting for? What did they know? What could they know? She could sense their loyalty and their devotion, and it made her ill. Such emotions simply did not exist in her any more.

And she could feel him. The Minbari. Valen. They said she had to kill him. She knew why, as well. Not in words, exactly, but she could see Earth again, and she could see her brother. Do as we say, spoke the voice of her masters, and that will never have happened.

The station shook, and she almost fell. What was happening out there?

The nauseous feeling was stronger. Reeling against the wall, she began to swallow harshly. How long had it been since she had last eaten? Did she even need to eat any more?

There is no time for such things. We are here now. Trust in us and there will be nothing to fear.

"You! Halt!" cried an unfamiliar voice. She was sure she did not know the language, but somehow she understood the words.

Turning, she saw a Narn before her. He was dressed in a uniform she had seen a lot these last few days, but had only barely noticed. A golden sunburst badge indicated very clearly just whom he served, but there was something else, a strange metallic disc she did not recognise.

The Narn moved forward slowly, drawing a long sword. It was afraid of her. This…. this big, strong alien was afraid of her.

It is afraid of us. Do not worry. We are here now. Can you see us?

She could, and for one brief moment she saw her master shimmer into view just as it raised a limb and tore through the Narn's chest. A spray of dark blood came from his mouth and he fell. The sword made a very loud noise as it hit the floor.

The disc. Take it and attach it to your clothing.

For the first time she took notice of the clothes she was wearing. A casual mix of civilian and military. Wondering idly just who had chosen this for her, she bent down beside the dead Narn and removed the metal disc. She held it up and looked at it curiously. It was not an insignia, not a designation of rank. There seemed to be some machinery attached to it, but she could not work out what it was.

Attach it to your clothing.

Her master was angry this time, and she hastily did as she was ordered. The disc clipped easily on to her jacket.

Now. This is what you must do.

She listened attentively, and then made her way as she had been directed. She had not much time, and the fate of the entire human race depended on her.

"How do I look?" Lady Elrisia asked, pondering her reflection in the mirror. She knew perfectly well how she looked, but a little extra flattery made all the difference. Not that Cartagia would notice, but a lot of the other nobles would. Not all of them were like her husband, thank the Gods.

Elrisia was a creature of the Court, and she always had been. Trapped first by her father and then by her scheming, single-minded husband, she had learned a great deal about power and how to gain it. Oh, of course women could have no official power within the Court or the Centarum, but unofficially, that was another matter….

Now if only Cartagia would do as he was bid. He was enough to try the patience of a saint! She thought Refa had been bad enough, but Cartagia was almost exactly the opposite. Where Refa had been concerned only with power and glory and nothing else, Cartagia seemed…. hardly bothered about anything. He wrote poetry he would not let her see. He kept a diary no one else could read. And he talked to himself. Frequently. Loudly. In gibberish.

But insanity had never stopped anyone else becoming Emperor, had it? The thirteenth Emperor had made a small fruit tree his Minister of Defence after all, and hardly anyone had complained. But then, compared to most of the other Ministers at the time, the fruit tree was probably the most efficient of the lot. It was the only one never to try to seize power for itself.

"You look beautiful, Mistress," said her maid, bowing her head. Elrisia's mood lifted a little. Of course she looked beautiful. She knew that. As long as the Court knew it too. Appearances were important, after all. If only Cartagia would see that.

She looked at the maid, trying to remember her name. Adira something…. Oh well, it didn't matter. Truthfully, Elrisia didn't like this maid. She preferred ugly servants wherever possible, so that her beauty would shine the better, but Adira had been foisted on her. Besides, she was one of the few servants left in the Court who hadn't run away or been burned alive.

Elrisia snorted and turned back to the mirror, contemplating her reflection again. The door suddenly opened, and she sighed. A guard stepped in.

"Master Vir Cotto, from the Court, my lady," the guard said, and in came a bumbling little man Elrisia had hated for years.

"The…. um…. the…. uh…. the Court is…. uh…. ready for you…. um, my lady." Elrisia sighed. What a pathetic person. Still, he had put up with Refa for quite a while, and amongst Minbari as well. That would be enough to drive anyone insane. Elrisia more than half suspected that this…. Vir's appointment with Refa to Minbar was an offhanded insult from Mollari.

"About time," she muttered. "Has word been sent to Prince Cartagia?"

"Yes. Oh yes, Lady. He is…. um…. he is…. ah…. on his way, yes. He's on his way to the Court."

"Well. That is a pleasant surprise. I was half expecting him to be at the other side of the city or something." She suddenly noticed Adira was still beside her. "What are you still doing here? Go away." The maid curtsied and left. She flashed a nervous smile at Vir as she did so, and he made a pathetic sort of wave in response.

Elrisia paused next to the mirror for a moment, and then smiled. Perfect. "Is my escort ready?" she asked.

"Oh, y…. y…. Yes, Lady. Just as you requested."

She sighed. "Tell me, just who exactly made you a Runner for the Court?"

"The Emperor Refa, Lady. Just before he d…. just before he, um, died, Lady."

Ah. That explained a lot. Refa obviously had understood the insult, and was seeking to pass it around. "Well, then. Let us go." She paused and looked at him carefully. "That is a delightful brooch you're wearing. Where did you get it?"

He fingered the circle-of-light badge pinned to his jacket. "Ah yes, Lady. I…. um…. I…. er…. bought it in the marketplace…. Lady. A…. er, Minbari fashion, I believe."

"Ah. A pity. I can't see many people wearing those lately." Elrisia then swept past him, and went on her way to meet her destiny.

Kats was alone, surrounded by a great and terrible darkness. Not a physical darkness, but an emotional one. He would be dead by now. Dead, because he had spoken up, and she had remained mute, silent.

He is dead.

She had given up trying to meditate. The necessary peace of mind just would not come. All she could think of were Kozorr's last words. He had said he loved her. Somehow she had always known that, but she had never dared to speak. He had already risked so much for her: his hand, his health, his position…. and now his life.