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

"Yes, yes, Zathras here. Zathras not be going anywhere." There was a pause, and then the signal came back. "That is fine. Machinery is all fixed now. Return to inside. Help will be reaching us very soon."

"I hope so." She risked a look over her shoulder, and dimly, beyond the cloud-like wall that surrounded the station, she could see the faint traces of a spaceship. A shuttle was approaching. "I…. Wait a minute. Zathras…. when did you call for them?"

"Zathras did not call for help."

"Then…. Jeff didn't. Who did?"

"Ah…. not good to be thinking about that. This is…. history. Everything will come out fine."

"Oh no." A sense of pure terror came over her. "They know help is coming aboard. The…. the Shadows. They know!"

"Zathras not worry. Zathras…."

The signal cut dead, and a brilliant light filled her mind. She almost screamed. said the voice.

"No," she whispered. "You can't…. you…. Jeffrey!"

"Jeffrey!"

The temporal rift shuddered, and the entire station trembled. Catherine screamed as the Vorlon's light filled her mind. She felt the magnetic clamps giving way from the side of the station. Knowing what was going to happen, and powerless to stop it, she could see once again the awesome majesty of the Vorlon that filled her soul. It was finished with her. Events had conspired to make her intended role worthless.

It needed her no longer.

She was thrown away from the station, consumed by the mist of time that engulfed her. The passage of the ages took her, and she was lost to everything.

"It's over, Captain! Hull integrity is practically nothing."

Sheridan sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. He could see Delenn. She knew he had lied to her. She knew he would not be returning.

What other option was there? He was a dying man anyway, a man cursed to doom all he knew and loved before he went. A twisted, hateful legacy. He would not let Deathwalker have her last, black laugh at humanity's expense.

Everyone has to die sometime. Better to do it as a hero, saving everything.

But his crew? His friends? What about them? David…. he had a right to live. He had so much to live for. So did all the others.

" Parmenion , this is the Babylon . You cannot survive many more hits. Get to the life pods, and we will bring you aboard. This is the…."

" Parmenion hears you," replied Sheridan. "We will be evacuating now." He looked up at David. "You heard him. Get as many of the crew as you can to the life pods, the shuttles, any remaining Starfuries…. anything."

"What about you, Captain?"

"I've…. I'll just stay here. I'll leave after the rest of the crew."

Corwin's eyes narrowed. "You've never lied to me before, Captain. This would be a really bad time to start."

"I'm not. I'll see you at Kazomi Seven. I promise. Now go!"

"You heard the Captain," he snapped to the rest of the bridge crew. "Guerra, issue a ship-wide evacuation order. Ensure the life pods and shuttles are prepared. Go!"

John Sheridan visualised the scene outside. He thought about dying….

Delenn had gone so far beyond anger that she did not know what she was feeling. Beyond fear, beyond fury, beyond revenge…. she was in a white calm, in a place where she could be completely at peace. She observed the battle with a clinical detachment, directing things as much as possible from far in the rear. She needed to survive, Taan Churok had told her. She was important, Lethke had said.

She knew all these things, and yet it still felt so wrong…. being here when people were fighting and dying. She could see the reports about the Parmenion .

"Delenn!" barked Taan Churok. "The planet…."

She looked at the instruments, and gasped.

Epsilon 3 was shaking, trembling, tearing itself apart.

"The Machine…. Valen's Name. Can we get word to anyone there?"

"Tried. Signal couldn't get through."

"What about the rift? Is it still functional?"

"Do not know."

She closed her eyes, and thought about death. She thought about life. She thought about Minbar, about Earth, about the untold millions who had died in the time since she had made her fatal mistake.

She would not let more die here. The Machine was dying. When it was finally gone, the explosion would destroy everything in the area. There was nothing more they could do to protect the past. The Shadow ships kept coming, and coming…. endless waves of black, screaming nightmares.

"Issue the order to withdraw. We have done all we can. Whichever ships are not too badly damaged should form a protective screen. I do not know if they will simply let us leave."

"We've done all we can."

"But was it enough?" she whispered, looking at him intently. "Was it enough?"

Whatever Delenn might have thought, the Shadow ships did not try to stop the fleet leaving. Those ships that were still firing on the Shadow ships were destroyed, mercilessly and efficiently, but those that fled were unharmed. The Babylon managed to enter hyperspace with no problems, all the crew from the Parmenion taken aboard.

The Shadow ships bore down on the dying world, obviously intending to hasten its demise. No one seemed to know just how long the temporal rift would last after the death of the Great Machine. Better to be sure, for them.

John Sheridan stood alone on the deck of his burning, battered ship. He had given one last order, and it had been obeyed just before the remains of the engine crew had left the ship.

The doomed and dying Parmenion soared forward, heading directly for the mass of screaming, inky darkness before it. The ships turned towards its inexorable advance. They turned, and fired.

The Machine died. Epsilon 3 died, and become a billion pieces of shattered rock, and machinery, and weapons.

John Sheridan stood quietly as the Parmenion tore into the Shadow vessels, just as the explosion of the planet tore into his ship.

His world exploded.

It was over.

The Shadow ships had departed now, at least those that had survived the colossal explosion that had claimed the Great Machine and the entirety of Epsilon 3. Some of them had been consumed by it, but most had survived. They had done what they had come for, and so they left.

Most of the other ships had managed to escape also, although a terrible toll had been exacted on those who had failed. A huge mass of metal, rock, the cries of the dead…. They all hung together, a testament to the futility of their deaths.

Alone in the middle of the desolation, the temporal rift was still shining. It was shaking and trembling, but it was still open. A lifeline to the past, a prayer for the future.

Somewhere within that rift lay the reason for all the bloodshed. No one knew how long it would remain open, or whether there would be enough time for those inside it to reach their destination.

And somewhere, out amidst the devastation of the battlefield, there lay the body of one Captain John Sheridan.

It was two years in the past, and he was younger then. He was still alive as well, uninfected by the terminal virus implanted by Deathwalker, his wife still alive, still a champion of his people, a hero.

John Sheridan knew nothing of his destiny as he walked slowly across the docking bays of the station he knew had never been built. He was troubled and concerned, and still only gradually warming to the presence of the woman at his side: Delenn, still Satai of the Minbari, still fully Minbari, she had not yet gone through her ordeal caught between races, or the horrors of the Drakh occupation of Kazomi 7, or the sight of her beloved Minbar in ruins.

They were expected, and both parties were secretly waiting and watching. Susan Ivanova, accompanied by invisible mentors who whispered to her in her mind. She knew what she had to do, but she also knew who was to blame. Sheridan had…. betrayed her. He had killed Anna, and she had liked Anna, really truly liked her. And yet her masters were telling her that Sheridan was to be kept alive. Another was the true threat.

It was all very confusing.

And the others, Valen and Zathras and the remainder of their Narn bodyguard — they were making for the docking bays, waiting for the help they knew would arrive. Valen wanted something more than help, however. He wanted to see one person who had shown him a great deal, and helped him, ever so slightly, to accept his destiny.

John Sheridan suddenly cried out and reeled back against the wall. Delenn caught him, but he seemed to be muttering something to himself. Valen sighed, and stepped back. He knew what it was. A time flash, a temporal jump, to relive events from the past or to experience brief glimpses of the future. They had all been witnessing such phenomena when the station had been orbiting Epsilon 3. Now they had their temporal stability discs, which should protect them from such things.

Sheridan blinked and started, resting against the wall. "What happened?" Delenn asked him.

"I…. I don't know. I was reliving my wedding. It's like I was there, but it was nine years ago. I don't understand."

Valen breathed out slowly, and went forward to his destiny. Zathras walked beside him, but Ta'Lon and the other Narns remained in the shadows. There was no telling what might be waiting. "It's been happening to all of us," Valen said, walking towards them. "Flashes, forwards or back." Sheridan's eyes were narrowing, but he did not reach for a weapon. He looked…. so very different. But then, Valen had seen him only seldom two years in the future.

"Greetings, both of you. I welcome you to this place." Delenn gasped softly. Ah, she knew now. "I am called Valen."

Sheridan shook his head, and as he did so he caught a glimpse of the figure by Valen's side. "Zathras! But…. what are you doing here? You stayed on the planet with G'Kar!"

"Ah, no, Captain. Zathras is being very sorry, but Zathras last seen you many years ago, yes. Time has passed, yes. Much time. In your years…."

"Zathras!" snapped Valen. Sheridan and Delenn were not to know. They deserved some hope for the future at least.

"Ah yes, Zathras know, Zathras not supposed to talk about time. Zathras not supposed to talk about anything. Zathras supposed to shut up. Zathras is being shutting up. There. Zathras is shut up."

"I thank you both for coming," Valen repeated, ignoring his companion's tantrum. "We need your help, but first you have to understand. You have to…."

Sheridan blinked, and cried out.

There was a blur of movement, and a hissing, screaming noise. Valen started and turned. Ta'Lon burst from the shadows, his sword flashing. There was a burst of PPG fire. Valen staggered back. "They're here," he whispered. He could see Delenn directly in front of him. She was trying to grab Sheridan, who was shaking in the grip of another time flash.

"Shadows here," Zathras snapped. "We be going now. Very quickly."

Something shimmered into view just in front of them. Reaching out, Valen seized hold of Delenn's sleeve and began to run in the direction of the corridor. Zathras followed, sniping around their heels. Ta'Lon moved to help Sheridan, but the shimmering form of the emerging Shadows cut him off. There was a hint of a human moving as well.