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

"Go then, Sinoval. Your loyalties are…. where they should be."

"I thank you, Delenn. As soon as Tarolin Two is safe, I will see what I can do about returning here."

"Go. And…. Valen be with you."

"I certainly hope not, Delenn, but I appreciate the sentiment. And you."

He left, hurrying down the corridor, three Soul Hunters following. Delenn felt a chill as she watched them pass.

No matter how much time passed, she would never get used to Sinoval's allies. Never.

She hurried back towards the command room. There was still work to do.

It is time. Things are moving faster than even I had expected. I am not sure if that is not the real tragedy of this, just how little I had to do to get matters to the situation I wanted. Were we always this close to disaster?

Malachi, First Minister of the Centauri Republic sat back, sighing. He had been looking at the viewscreen for almost an hour, thinking dark thoughts and considering making the call that could end this for good. The cold logic of his plan said that he shouldn't — there had already been enough interruptions from that quarter. But the warmth of idealistic friendship said that he should. Londo had a right to know, more than anyone else.

But would he understand?

Malachi could smell the smoke on the wind. He had left all the windows in his chamber open for that very purpose, even though it brought in the bitter cold. He needed the smoke. It was a reminder of what his plan had brought about.

The city and the Court were on the edge of disaster. Nobles had been growing ever more suspicious of each other for months, and their slow gathering of near-armies for 'protection' would inevitably result in this paranoia. The Shadow Criers were spreading chaos and anarchy wherever they went…. yes, and death. Their recent 'murder' of Lord Dugari, coupled with the leak that a noble was supporting them, had only made a bad situation worse, and a horrible possibility a dreadful inevitability.

And Malachi had had to do so little. He had had nothing to do with the death of Lord Dugari, little to do with the gathering of private armies, and had orchestrated only the first few exilings from the Court. He was surprised, and terribly saddened, at just how easy it had been to bring matters to this state.

All it took to destroy an Empire was to kill a ruler, several nobles, subtly spread distrust and misinformation, and put in a little effort where required.

How truly sad.

It would happen tonight. Or if not tonight then within the next few days. The entire planet would be torn apart in fire and blood, and then…. from the ashes…. there would be….

Well, something, anyway.

Malachi had agents in many places. Like any good Centauri he believed in the power of information. His listening device planted in Lord Jarno's chambers had alerted him to Jarno's plan to attack Lord Kiro, and to the part Lady Mariel had played in that decision.

He was also aware of Carn Mollari's presence in the city, goading Lord Valo to ever more rash action.

He knew of the numerous disappearances that could be attributed to the hands of Lady Elrisia and Prince Cartagia. Too many of those who had…. disappeared…. were only peasants, and as such did not matter to many people. Dugari was the only noble they had…. killed. And the blame for his death had been deflected from the two of them with little effort.

He knew of Londo's actions in Selini, and his plans for Camulodo, Sphodria and Gallia. He almost smiled. Londo was the only one who deserved this world.

Malachi had known Londo since his childhood. He had watched the idealistic young politician grow into a bitter and angry man, angry with the world and the universe around him. He had witnessed Londo's seeming rebirth and the hope for the future of the people.

And he had seen it all fall apart.

He had decided. It would all happen tonight: the beginning of the end. Londo had to know. He moved to the viewscreen and sent the signal he had been readying all night.

The screen came to life with the image of, of all things, a Minbari.

"Tell Mini…. Governor Mollari that First Minister Malachi wishes to speak with him."

The Minbari nodded silently and left. A few minutes later Londo's face appeared on the screen.

"Malachi," he said, no hint of warmth in his voice. "What an unexpected surprise."

"Tell me, Londo. How would you like to come to the capital?"

Pain and darkness and light.

Kats surfaced into consciousness slowly, bright lights flashing at the edge of her vision. She could hear a voice speaking to her, but the words made no sense. All she saw was his face, and his voice.

Forgiveness, Satai Kats, is the most noble of virtues, do you not agree? But it must be asked for, it must be begged for, it must be recognised for what it is. You have sinned, against our people, against Minbar, against Valen himself. Acknowledge your sin, and beg for forgiveness, and you may yet be redeemed.

Forgive me. I have…. done wrong. Forgive me. For….

"…. give me!"

Her eyes opened as she sat upright, her breath coming in short gasps. For a moment she had been with Kalain again, trapped in his mockery of 'forgiveness' and 'redemption'.

She looked around slowly but could see little. She was lying on a thin cot in a darkened room. The only light came from above her head, an arrangement which made her extremely uncomfortable. There was someone next to her, but only when he spoke did she realise it was the acolyte, Ashan.

"You must rest," he said. "You have head injuries."

"What happened?"

"You collapsed. The physicians said it was caused by blood clots blocking out your head membranes. It was serious for a while."

"I…. remember…." She did not know. She had been with Administrator Callenn and Ashan, and then there had been a deafening burst of sound. Unable to hear anything, she had staggered forward and fallen, and…. either her head had hit something or something had fallen on her….

"Where is Shai Alyt Kozorr?" she asked. Something about this whole situation worried her.

"This way. He has been asking about you." Ashan rose to his feet and let her rise as well. Her head ached but she managed to maintain her balance. Ashan made a gesture she could not quite see. It was so dark. Too dark. It….

"Which way?" She turned to try to find him but his silhouette had vanished. There was no sound of his breathing, his movements…. nothing. "Ashan? Where are you?"

"It says that you are evil. I know that you are a worker, and therefore responsible for the doom of our people. It says however that you are evil. It says that you betrayed our people to the Soul Hunters. It says that Kalain tried to purify you, but he was prevented from doing so. It says I must continue where he failed.

"It says I must kill you."

"Who says?" she asked slowly, her heart pounding. Her head ached so much. She could barely move. She….

Her arm burst into pain and she felt the warmth as her blood spilled out. Clutching it, letting out a cry of agony, she fell. "Ashan," she pleaded. "What are you doing?"

There was silence for a long while. She struggled to rise. All she could see was the light above her. She could hear Kalain's voice roaring in her mind.

"It says you must die."

"Ashan?" Something whirled past her face and she recoiled in pain. Blood began to drip down into her eyes. "Why…?"

Forgiveness…. We will grant you forgiveness, Satai Kats, but it must be asked for. No, it must be begged for. Beg for my forgiveness, worker bitch! Beg!

"For…. give…." She tried to breathe, tried to focus. Something was pounding in her ears. She could not see anything. She could taste her own blood. She could feel her skin tingling with the memory of Kalain's tortures. She….

Forgiveness! BEG FOR MY FORGIVENESS!

Outside the door of one of the few buildings remaining intact in the main city of Tarolin 2, a Tak'cha readied himself to enter.

"They're coming."

Tu'Pari looked up, the only one seemingly interested in her now. G'Kar was lying at his feet, blood coming from places Donne had not even known existed. She had killed a great many people, but now she knew she was in the presence of a master. If only he had had telepathic powers he might well have been worthy of her respect, perhaps even her admiration.

"Who?"

"Someone come to see what is happening here. We will be ready for them. Do you want to tell me what this Machine is doing, G'Kar? Or should I perhaps use your new friends as leverage?"

"You…. will…. never…. control…. the Machine…." He made a strange noise, one which caused even Tu'Pari to start. It sounded like laughter. "Never…."

"You will tell me, or I will destroy everything that is yours. You will…." Her holographic form smiled. "Very well. I was getting bored here." She blinked, and with the work of a moment, it was done. "There. Now, G'Kar, your little dream house of paper and glue will be set alight. I wager you will be able to hear the screams even from here."

"Never…. win…." He fell silent again.

"Idiot. I have won. Come and get me, Captain Smith. You'll scream just as loud as the rest."

The skies around Babylon 4 and Epsilon 3 were filled with the inrush of energy as four jump points opened. Out swept the ships of the Resistance Government of Humanity, resplendent in their glory and certainty, convinced of the rightness of their position.

The following message was received by the Command and Control of Babylon 4:

"This is Captain Dexter Smith of the EAS Babylon . This station, this planet, this area of space and all peoples and objects and technologies herein are as of this moment placed under the control of the Resistance Government of Humanity. Stand down all weapons and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be met with deadly force.

"You have five minutes to comply."

"This is Captain Dexter Smith of the EAS Babylon . This station, this planet, this area of space and all peoples and objects and technologies herein are as of this moment placed under the control of the Resistance Government of Humanity. Stand down all weapons and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will be met with deadly force.

"You have five minutes to comply."

The four ships moved around the space station known as Babylon 4. Very few of them knew of the appropriateness of that name. Once, over seven years ago, Babylon 4 had been hailed as the greatest hope of the human race, a chance to fight back against the alien oppressors, an opportunity to regain power.

For various reasons the Babylon Project had fallen by the wayside and been forgotten. Official secrecy had been maintained, but to those who had been involved in its operation it was the greatest lost chance of the last decade.

But fortune favoured the bold, or so it was said. Humanity was now free and powerful again, a young colossus bestriding the galaxy once more. Babylon 4, the station that had been intended to redeem them, had been built by another for purposes unknown.

And humanity was now on the verge of another victory.

The Earth Alliance starships Babylon, Morningstar, Corinthian and Marten moved into position, their respective captains trying not to reveal their anxieties. This mission had been planned meticulously, and thus far everything seemed to be going as planned. The two human ships working for the enemy — the Parmenion and the Ozymandias — had gone, lured away through false means by an ally. None of the four captains had relished the thought of opposing their own people, least of all the legendary Starkiller, Captain Sheridan.