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

"I'm leaving, David. I'm leaving this place. I hate it. The sky's wrong, the time's wrong, the air doesn't smell the same…. I'm going back to Sanctuary to pick up Lianna, and from there we're going to one of the outlying colonies. They're free again now, and some of them are a long way away. Far away from the Minbari, and the Narns and…. everything!"

She paused and looked at him intently, folding her arms. "You could come with us. I…. I want you to."

"Mary, I…." He took a deep breath, and kept feeling the box in his pocket. "I…. I came here to ask you to marry me."

She smiled, and then shook her head sadly. "I was wondering when…. No, it doesn't matter. I'd love to, but not here. Give all this up, David. Give up this war, give up fighting this hopeless cause. You can't win. There's always another enemy. Give it up…. and come with me. I do want to marry you, but I won't sit at home like Lianna, waiting for news to come through that you've been killed somewhere, fighting for some cause no one understands."

"I…. Michael…. his death was…. It wasn't…."

"It doesn't matter, David. He's dead, and how or why won't help at all. You…. know what I want."

He picked the box from his pocket, and looked at the ring inside. He had bought it in the market here on Kazomi 7. It was a Brakiri design, and he had had it altered a little so that it would fit a human finger. It was…. beautiful.

"I love you, Mary," he said pathetically. "I love you…. but…."

She sighed, and looked down. "That's what I thought. Go away, David…. please. I…. I can't sit and wait by the news reports every night like this. Go away."

"I…." He closed the box and gently laid it down on the table. He made to take a step towards her, but then sighed and turned away.

He left the room without looking back. Only then did he start to cry.

Time passed, neither slowly, nor quickly. It simply was. For Delenn of Mir, the few months after the Battle of the Third Line were hard. The year wove its way slowly towards an end and work became harder and harder. She slept even less now than she had before, and her few brief hours of slumber were normally spent in a chair at John's bedside.

The state of affairs on Kazomi 7 was not especially good, but neither was it especially bad. Much of her time was taken up in helping with the reorganisation of G'Kar's Rangers. The loss of Epsilon 3 and Babylon 4 had hit them hard, but G'Kar had been canny enough not to place all of his resources in one area. He was recovering from his injuries as well as could be expected, and he and Ta'Lon were working closely with Taan Churok and Vejar to make Kazomi 7 the new base of the Narn Rangers.

A few weeks after the battle word came in from Centauri Prime, news which was most welcome. Londo had become Emperor. He was dealing with the wreckage of his bloody ascension, and would appoint an Ambassador to Kazomi 7 as soon as he could. He specifically requested no outside assistance. The presence of aliens on the planet now might well make matters far worse.

There was no word from Alfred Bester. None at all.

John's condition did not improve, and the initial prognosis had proven distressingly accurate. His spine was irretrievably broken, and he would never move below the neck again. He could not even breathe without artificial help. How he had remained alive until he had been found, nobody knew. Delenn spent as much time with him as she could, holding his hands that could never feel hers. When she was not there, Commander Corwin was, relaying reports of the defensive capabilities of the system, of the field testing of the commandeered Babylon, and various other matters. Sheridan listened, and gave back advice when he could.

Unfortunately as time passed he suffered more and more violent headaches. The lights in the ward hurt his eyes, and he frequently suffered bad dreams. Neither he nor Delenn spoke about it, but the doctors had been given all the available information on his virus, and they were beginning to speculate that quarantine might soon become necessary.

There was a brief reply from Sinoval, stating that he would need to remain behind at Tarolin 2 to help rebuild, and to increase security at the other colony worlds he controlled. He said little else, but Delenn knew that someone was threatening the remaining Minbari worlds. The number of Minbari refugees coming to Kazomi 7 increased briefly for a month or so. Few of them were possessed by Keepers though.

The crew of the Babylon were given safe passage to neutral territory, from where they could travel on to human space. Only two of them chose to stay behind: a Lieutenant Franklin, who had at last regained his long-lost vocation for medicine. Here had could practice as he had always wanted, and strive to heal, not to kill. Captain Dexter Smith stayed also, fulfilling his promise to give his life for those of his crew.

Susan Ivanova remained imprisoned. Medical reports and a study by Vejar confirmed that the Keeper she had been given had been completely removed from her system. Who, or what she was now…. was unknown.

It was on a day slightly over two months after the battle that Lethke received an interesting and unexpected message. He promised to consult with the remainder of the Government and reply later. He then instantly went to see Delenn.

"It is a lie," she said. She had been with John, and her eyes were haunted. He had lapsed briefly into delirium during her visit. It had been for less than a minute, but it was a troubling development all the same.

"They mean nothing but to sow dissent and suspicion, Lethke."

"So I thought, but what if they do speak the truth? Can we afford to pass over such an offer?"

Delenn shook her head. "'There can be no peace with the Shadow'," she quoted. "They are lying."

"But he does not speak just for the Shadows," he countered. "He speaks for humanity as well. Can there be peace with them?"

She hesitated, lost momentarily in a world fifteen years gone. "Perhaps…. but humanity is…. they are too closely linked with the Shadows now. There cannot be peace, Lethke. I wish it were not so, but…." She bowed her head sadly.

"He says he will come only to speak of peace. He is a true diplomat, Delenn. I have known many, and I can see it in his eyes. His words…. they are genuine. Delenn…. dare we turn away this chance? I do not want to spend the rest of my life devoted to war. I want to build this Alliance so that it protects and shelters the entire galaxy, and we cannot do that if we are constantly worrying about battles and fighting. We…. prefer not to fight, we Brakiri. I have always thought it is a far more pleasant option to choose."

She sighed, and thought again of that moment fifteen years ago. She had been too ready to embrace war once before, and it had cost her dearly. Could she refuse this option now? Even if it were only the merest possibility….

"We will bring the matter to the Council," she said at last. "If you all say yes…. then I will assent."

Lethke smiled and bowed, but then he looked worried. "There is one other thing, Delenn. The diplomat who contacted me…. he was human. The Shadows do most of their dealing through intermediaries of other races…. so I was not surprised. But…. he gave his name as Sheridan."

She paused. "Sh…. Sheridan? No, it cannot be," she said finally. "All of John's family are dead. It is a…. coincidence, and nothing more. Still, it would be best, I think, if John were not told of this."

"As you say, Delenn. When shall we convene the Council?"

She paused, and thought for one brief moment about the man she loved. "As soon as possible," she said finally. "As…. soon as possible."

They all agreed, and Lethke sent back the reply in the affirmative. Ambassador David Sheridan received it, and nodded. Everyone did what they had to do, what was necessary, and however much he disliked the thought of going to Kazomi 7, he knew that he had to do it.

But he had one important person to see first.

Londo was tired, and he had a headache, and he wanted very much to have a steaming cup of brivare and go to bed.

But he was the Emperor, and contrary to what he had believed as a child, the Emperor did not get to do whatever he wanted. He had his duties to the Republic, and if those duties meant he had to stay up all night with Marrago and Durano, then so be it.

In the preceding two months the situation had improved slightly, although not as much as he might have hoped.

The Centarum had been reconvened, and its first actions had been the passing of motions recognising Londo as Emperor and accepting his story as the official history of events. The second motion had passed substantially, as almost all of those who knew the truth about Valo's attack on the Court were either dead or firmly allied to the new regime.

The first motion however was more difficult. Many remembered that Londo had been accused of murdering Emperor Refa, and that he had raised rebellion against his own Government. Denials of the first had been expected, if not entirely believed, and the same had been the case with explanations for the second. Nevertheless, the placing of the blame for everything that had ever gone wrong in the Republic since the dawn of creation entirely at the door of the Shadow Criers…. that had been generally accepted.

In any case, Marrago and Durano had separately exerted considerable pressure on the dissenters, and the first motion had been passed. Londo's inauguration as Emperor had been a pitiful thing by previous standards, but in respect of the lying speeches, futile thanks and insincere hopes for the future, few things ever changed.

That, however, was only the beginning. The homeworld was now fairly secure, but the Republic itself was very shaky.

"We have lost all contact with Beta Centauri Two," Marrago reported. "The communications satellite might be down, but I fear it is more likely either that the Narns have taken the colony, or that there is another rebellion there, as there was at Gorash."

"A rebellion is possible, but unlikely," acknowledged Durano. "My sources there informed me that there was considerable ill-feeling towards the Court here, but that matters were improving. The lowering of taxes, the replacement of the planetary Governor, and the improved weather conditions and harvesting mean that the economy there is recovering strongly. Any uprising would have been more likely to occur two or three months ago."

"The Narns then," muttered Londo. "Again. They are seeking to destabilise our economy, aren't they?"

"It seems likely," admitted Marrago. "A very different strategy for them. I am not sure if they are receiving outside assistance or if Warleader G'Sten is simply having flashes of genius."

"I fear we will need to begin peace talks soon, but will they accept anything other than unconditional surrender? G'Kar might be able to help, but he is sorely pressed by other concerns. I fear an Ambassador to Kazomi Seven is more essential now than it has ever been."

"We have spoken about this, Londo," said Marrago. "We need to be strong and secure as a Republic first. If we go on bended knee to this…. G'Kar, then we risk exposing our vulnerabilities. The Narns may be more reckless than they have been, but to some extent there are still elements of caution in their strategy. That caution is buying us time. If we reveal our weakness…. then they may launch a direct attack on the homeworld, and we would be defeated easily."

"G'Kar…. is not like that."

"I accept that, Londo, but can you speak for all the Narns he commands? What about the other aliens on Kazomi Seven? Can we trust the Minbari…. or the humans? No, I say again that we need to be as strong as we can be. Then we will go to the Narns as equals, not defeated and on our knees."

"Yes," Londo muttered. "Good advice, again. Ah, Gods…. I am tired. Sooner or later, Marrago, we will have to go there, and I would rather it be sooner. That is it…. if I stay here any longer I will fall asleep. Do you have anything else to report?"

"No," said Marrago. "Nothing else."

"Durano?"

The Minister for Intelligence had been silent throughout the exchange between Emperor and Lord-General. His gaze had been firmly fixed on Marrago, but he now slid it away smoothly. "No, Majesty," he said. "The Shadow Criers have been very quiet of late. Perhaps whatever madness has gripped them has simply…. died down."

"Or maybe they are all dead. Burning yourself alive in the middle of the street is unlikely to bring in many new converts. In any case, they are a problem for another time. I am to bed. Gentlemen." He rose, as did both of them. They bowed as he left, and then stalked from the room through opposite exits, not exchanging a single word.

The silent Minbari who had stood alone in the shadows in the corner of the room waited until they had gone, and then followed Londo.

The Emperor passed six separate groups of Palace Guards on the two-minute walk from his personal study to his bedroom, a fact he found most distressing. When he arrived at his bedroom he closed the door firmly and found Timov already in bed, pretending to sleep.

"I know you are awake," he said, undressing and changing into his night attire.

"You know me too well," she said acidly. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I am sorry I was out too late, Mother," he said, in smiling sarcasm. "I will try to be home for supper tomorrow."

She sat up. "That is not funny, Londo. You are up working until past midnight every night, and up again at the stroke of dawn every morning. You cannot keep up this pace. Leave it for younger men."

"There is…. too much to do," he said, sighing. "Too much…." He finished changing and walked over to the bed. "May I come and join you, lady Empress?" he asked, smiling. "Or are you still angry with me?"

"Idiot," she whispered. "I don't know. My husband will return soon, and I do not know what he will say when he sees me in bed with the Emperor."

"I am sure he loves you too much to remain angry with you for very long," he said, climbing into bed.

"I wonder if I love him that much," she replied. "Good night, Londo."

"Good night, dear."

Sleep was a long time coming. It always was these days.

He was sleeping. At least, his eyes were closed, so she hoped he was sleeping. The lights in the room were down as low as they could be: it was almost too dark for her to see him, and the most Delenn of Mir could make out of John Sheridan was a vague outline, marked by the slow, regular movements of the machinery that sustained his paralysed body.

The Ambassador from the Shadows would be arriving soon, within a few days at most. A thought had struck her not long after she had been told of his request to visit.

A cure. The Shadows had a cure for John.

She had contacted Sinoval again, in desperation. He had received her message, and he had replied in no uncertain terms that he had studied Deathwalker's files all he could, but he had found no trace of her cure. The Shadows had it, but that was all he knew. He then ended the conversation, pointing out that he had his own responsibilities to his own people.