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

The two Drazi looked at each other, and then proceeded to find many things of interest in the papers before them.

Delenn sighed again, rubbing at her eyes. She had not slept well last night. Not at all. "Telepaths are the only real weapon we have against the Shadows," she said. "You both know this. Why then were those ships not provided with telepaths?"

"It is easy for you," Vizhak said, looking up. His tone of voice was faintly apprehensive. "Minbari have many telepaths. Drazi have few. We do not breed as many telepaths as Minbari do, and those we have are…. needed. Our laws do not bind them. They are not soldiers. We cannot command them to go to war."

"We have…. some telepaths here," she said.

"Yes. Minbari telepaths. Brakiri telepaths. One human telepath. None of those can serve on Drazi ship. Only Drazi serve on Drazi ships."

"I was on one of your ships," she pointed out. Twice, in fact, at Minbar and at the Third Line. The Drazi had been most eager to have her aboard the Stra'Kath, their flagship.

"You are leader," she said. "You lead Drazi. You speak for Drazi to aliens. You are different."

She did not know whether to be flattered or not. She had certainly been given worse compliments. Her general mood, however, left no time for recognising the absurdity of the situation. "The fact is, Vizhak…. without telepaths we stand little chance against the Shadows. At Epsilon Three we had the advantage of knowing they were coming, of setting defences, of time to prepare. We cannot do that this time, and if we simply fly around waiting for them to appear, then we will share the same fate as those two ships."

"At least we try," spoke up Taan Churok. "Kazomi Seven is as safe as we can make it. Is fortified, is strong, is safe…. but other worlds, other peoples, other ships…. We cannot protect them all. So we try to deal with Shadows. We try…. where are others?"

"We have hardly been idle," Delenn replied. "We have been trying to establish a strategy, so that we can understand the enemy. Ambassador Sheridan made it clear that we, the Alliance, would bear the brunt of the Shadows' attacks, and so far that has appeared to be the case, but their attacks have been against your individual worlds…. not against any Alliance holdings. Why? We have to understand what they want first."

"We know what they want. To destroy us."

"We try to fight them, Delenn," said Vizhak. "Is Drazi way."

"There is another concern," spoke up another voice, and all eyes turned to Lethke, Minister for the Economy. The Brakiri was a calm-spoken man, precise and used to thinking clearly before speaking. "We have among us, here in this very city, one who knows more about the Shadows than anyone else can hope to. He promised us his aid and the assistance of his people when he arrived. But he has done nothing. For three weeks he has done nothing. He is not even here now.

"Where is Ambassador Ulkesh?"

"He was invited to this meeting, as he has been to every other," replied Delenn, a slow chill spreading through her body. There was a great deal about Ulkesh that she disliked. He was very…. different from the Vorlon who had shared her mind and soul for so many years, the Vorlon who had given his life in the temporal rift.

And she was not the only one who felt like that. The technomage Vejar had been conspicuously avoiding Ulkesh ever since his arrival. And Lyta…. Delenn's friend had changed greatly in the three weeks since the new Vorlon had come to Kazomi 7. Delenn wished she had had more of a chance to talk with her recently, but she had been so busy….

There was something that kept Ulkesh from these meetings, and for some reason she could not identify, and certainly could not rationalise, Delenn had the very uncomfortable feeling that that something was her.

I've been listening to Sinoval too much, she thought uneasily. To be certain, the warrior detested Vorlons with every fibre of his being, and after his revelations at the Rebirth Ceremony at the beginning of the year Delenn understood something of why, but did that mean his paranoid suspicions were true? Previously she had disbelieved them all, but since meeting Ulkesh again….

"Then what do we do?" asked Vizhak. "Sit here and wait to die? Is not Drazi way."

"No, we do not just sit here, but we do not send our ships out to be pointlessly butchered either. We formulate a plan, and we force the confrontation on our terms. That is as soon as we are ready. Commander Corwin…. do you honestly think we can defeat the Shadows?"

The young human shuffled in his seat awkwardly. He had been invited to all the meetings of the Alliance Council since the Battle of the Third Line, but he had only started coming with the advent of the open attacks by the Shadows. Of everyone here, with the possible exception of Ta'Lon, he had the most experience of fighting the Shadows directly.

"There's no denying their superiority," he said, after a moment's hesitation. He was clearly uncomfortable. "Technological, that is. Some of their tech was put into the Babylon by the Resistance Government…. not as much as was built into the later ships, but still a little. We've been going over it as best as we can, and what we've found isn't very…. um…. reassuring.

"Their ships are organic in nature, at least partially. They're very resistant to damage. It can be done, though, with great difficulty. We've all seen that. Telepaths seem to be our only real advantage against them. Each time we've fought them…. something has happened to swing the battle in our favour.

"At Proxima Three it was the arrival of a Vorlon fleet. At…. Epsilon Three, the Great Machine helped us as much as it could, and when it…. exploded it took some of their ships with it." He fell silent, and Delenn looked down. When the Great Machine exploded it had taken something else with it as well. Commander Corwin's great friend Michael Garibaldi. And it looked as though it would take his Captain as well.

"I'd…. ah…. rather not spend all my subsequent battles with the Shadows praying for a miracle. Besides, if we take anything near the losses we took at Epsilon Three, another couple of battles like that and we won't have any ships left to pray for miracles with."

"Then…. what do you recommend?"

He was very quick, and blunt. "Get the Vorlons here to help us now. Because without them, we don't stand a chance. None at all."

Delenn sighed again. Exactly as she had thought. Sometimes she hated being right.

G'Kael seldom thought much about the future. As far as life in the army and in the lower circles of the Kha'Ri went, he was lucky if he had time to think about the present. However, if he had given much thought to where the path of his destiny would take him, he would never had believed it would lead to Kazomi 7, and to the position he now held.

Ambassador. A fine title in theory, but a hollow one in practice. The Kha'Ri had little time for this Alliance, being far more preoccupied with the war against the Centauri, and they had responded to the Council's offer of representation with hearty guffaws. Eventually, however, they had accepted the need to have someone here, even if only to serve as a spy, and a quick series of suggestions had thrown up G'Kael's name.

In the few months he had been here, though, he had learned that his post was considerably more important than some back home seemed to think. First, he had met and spoken to the fabled Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar himself, who had pressed home the great importance of this place. G'Kar was gone now, on some personal errand of great urgency, but his second Ta'Lon was still here.

And now, to his considerable surprise, someone else of importance had turned up, someone he had definitely not been expecting.

"Councillor Na'Toth," he exclaimed, seeing her sitting in the room he had been using as an audience chamber. The furnishings were hardly perfect, but this had been a Drazi colony after all. "I am honoured."

"I wish I were," she said, with trademark bluntness. G'Kael had spent much of his time in the Kha'Ri's lower circles observing those in the upper ones, and so he was fully acquainted with what some might call Na'Toth's lack of tact. On the other hand, he could tell from her tone that she was less than pleased.

"I am to take it, I suppose, that the Kha'Ri has not decided to recognise the full importance of my position here?" he speculated, taking a wild guess. He knew well enough how politics in the Kha'Ri worked, after all.

"If they had, I would not be here," she replied acidly. "No, I fear there has been another round of ritual blood-letting in our Government, and I am the latest victim. I have been…. posted here. As your attach?."

"My…. attach?? But…."

"I know. A fairly severe demotion. My father would be revolving in the afterlife in disgust if he could see me now. It was my fault, really. I was a little too preoccupied with trying to avert a war to watch my back. That…. arrogant pouchling H'Klo managed to stage a very effective and surprisingly bloodless coup."

"I had heard nothing of this."

"Of course not. The Kha'Ri has not lasted this long by throwing all its little games open to the public. Councillor H'Klo and his supporters were very upset at my constant efforts to delay the war, as was Warleader G'Sten. And so they…. trumped up certain charges relating to the unfortunate death of Councillor Du'Rog some years ago."

"They falsified murder charges against you?"

"I would not say falsified…. not exactly. Well, dwelling on the past is neither here nor there. Is Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar here? I need to speak with him."

"No. He has…. departed on some personal mission. I do not know where. His lieutenant Ta'Lon is here."

"Ah, yes. Ta'Lon will have to do. G'Kar has chosen a most unsafe time to go galloping around the galaxy though. Our fleets will be at Centauri Prime in a matter of weeks, and when that happens, well…. it would not be a wise idea for one such as G'Kar to be somewhere that is not entirely safe."

"Is anywhere entirely safe these days?"

"The grave," she replied. He was not sure if she was joking or not, and all told it was probably just as well.

Shai Alyt Kozorr had been away from his people for only a few months, but it seemed far, far longer. A great deal had happened to him. The scales over his eyes had been lifted and he could now see clearly.

He knew what he had to do.

He had found Cathedral easily enough. It was still at Tarolin 2, as were several other ships in Sinoval's fleet. Kozorr pondered the situation on the planet's surface for a while, remembering the chaos and bloodshed that had occurred there. Sonovar had ordered that, but…. it had been for a good reason…. He had not been harming the innocent, only those who had betrayed their duties to the Minbari by swearing loyalty to Sinoval. That was….

He shook his head. He didn't really know. Sonovar was right, though. He must be.

And about one thing Sonovar had been very right. The instant Kozorr set eyes on Sinoval for the first time in months, he was stricken by the realisation.

Kats would never love him. Not while he remained in Sinoval's shadow. It was ironic, but Sinoval was better than him in every way. Without Sinoval…. Kozorr could very well have been the mightiest warrior of this generation. With him, he was nothing but a footnote.

"Kozorr!" cried the Primarch, moving forward slowly. His face was filled with a surprised joy, but there was something about him that did not speak of joy. He hesitated. "I was told you were…. dead."

Kozorr sighed softly, and limped forward. "It was a…. trick on Sonovar's part. Some sort of test, maybe. He…. wanted information from me. I…. ah…. I managed to escape."

Sinoval smiled. "Someone is favouring us at last, then. Come…. you need to rest, I am sure. You do not look…. well."

"I am tired, nothing more," he replied, shrinking away from Sinoval's touch. "It has not been easy."

"I do not doubt it. Still, I am very glad you have returned to us, Kozorr. Kats will be also. She…. told me what happened. She was…. feeling very guilty."

Kozorr bowed his head. "It was the only choice to make. I would do it again if I had to. You would have done the same."

"I hope so," came the soft reply. "Come, I will find a healer for you, and then you can rest. You look as though you need it."

"No!" he snapped quickly, and Sinoval looked surprised. "No. No healers. Where…. is Kats? I would like to see her."

Sinoval chuckled softly. "And she would like to see you too, my friend. Very much. She is on the surface, helping restore the records in the temporary Government building. I will guide you there…. unless you would rather see her alone."

"I would."

He nodded. "I understand. My blessings on you both."

Kozorr looked startled, but then he nodded and turned away, not really understanding. Sinoval had called him a friend, and he certainly thought so of Sinoval, but…. He had to prove himself to Kats, and he had to purify the taint on the Minbari people. Once the Soul Hunters were gone, then he, Kats and Sinoval could unite with Sonovar and the Tak'cha and take the war to the Enemy.

There was a brief movement in front of him, and a Soul Hunter came into view. Its ancient, hateful gaze fixed upon him for a moment, and then it stepped aside. Kozorr continued, thinking dark thoughts.

The Soul Hunter went to Sinoval, and they talked briefly, in hushed tones. Kozorr did not hear what they said, but Sinoval's expression was dark indeed.

They called it the Pit. Its more official designation was Sector 301 of the Main City Dome of Proxima 3, but the title of the Pit had been coined many years ago, and it had stuck.

It was appropriate as well, for the Pit was where Proxima dumped all its refuse, all its unwanted, all its discards, its trash, its rubbish. The security forces in the sector were notoriously corrupt, and all the MegaCorps avoided it like the plague.

It was a place of broken dreams and lost souls.

It was therefore hardly the sort of place one might expect to find a celebrated war hero, a man who had appeared among the Top Ten People of 2259 in Humanity magazine, and whom a poll had voted the Seventh Sexiest Man Alive in the same year.

For former Captain Dexter Smith however, the Pit was home.

It had been a few weeks since his honourable discharge from Earthforce, and the time had passed in a sort of blur. He had declined a number of interviews with news reporters, an offer of a weekly column in Universe Today, a regular panel slot on New News and several proposals of marriage. His discharge from the military had been big news for a while, and he was slightly amused to discover the official reason given was 'health problems, resulting from injuries sustained in long-term combat situations'.

If only half the people now interested in him had had any clue as to what those 'long-term combat situations' had been like, the world might be a better place. A great many people claimed to want the truth about his experiences in the war, and he had only been able to shake his head and reply that, no, they didn't at all.