Гэрет Уильямс - Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам

He nodded. "You pretended to be a soldier."

"I wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to be…. strong."

"You think the life of a soldier means you become strong?"

"Don't you? I thought that…. the training, the battles. If I'd been…. stronger, I'd have…. got away from that…. man…. myself. You are…. strong."

"Yes, I am. I have been a soldier all my life. I am strong, but I am also lucky. I have known better soldiers than me. Much better. They're all dead now. Strength isn't everything."

"But if I just knew how to fight, then…."

"I taught Lyndisty how to fight. I taught her how to use a kutari, a maurestii, her bare hands, countless other weapons. She was fast, she was clever, she was a better fighter than I ever was, or ever will be, and she is dead."

"I'm sorry," Senna whispered. "But I am not her."

"No," he replied curtly. "And you never will be. If you wish to sew the jacket yourself, feel free. There is a red one over there. I do not know what the colour will do for you, but it is the lightest jacket I have, and the fabric is not too rough. It should…. do. For the moment."

"There was something else as well," she said. "I…. I found this." She held out something to him, and his eyes narrowed. He moved forward and snatched it from her hands. It was a locket, made of fine gold.

"Don't touch that," he snapped. "Don't ever touch that again!"

"I'm sorry," she breathed. Her eyes were wide, and her face very pale. "I didn't mean to…." Then she straightened. "Are you going to hit me?" she snapped. All trace of fear seemed to have vanished from her face. "If you are, then do it."

"I'm not going to hit you," he replied, angry and confused and upset. "I have to go and train."

"I tried to leave," she said quickly, moving forward to catch him as he made for the door. "The Drazi wouldn't let me. All I wanted to do was watch them train. Take me with you….

"Please."

"No," he replied. "If you feel you are capable of it, try to take in that jacket for a dress. Or feel free to read. There are some books in that box there. Or go to sleep and rest.

"But you will not be allowed to leave here."

"Why not?" she hissed. "If that…. man comes looking for me, then…. All he can do is kill me, and I'm not afraid of that…. I'm not," she added, choking.

"By the Emperor," he sighed. "You are a fool, girl. He has already killed you. You just have not realised that yet."

She took a step back, and then another one, and then she collapsed on to the bed, sobbing into it. For a moment he made to turn back to her, but then he stopped.

She was not Lyndisty. His daughter was dead, and he would never see her again, not unless Sinoval chose to grant him some of that immortality of his, and he was present at the next Day of the Dead.

She was not Lyndisty. She never would be. She was a…. He paused. He did not know what she was. She was still crying.

He left for his training session.

"A nice view."

"It is, isn't it?"

Susan sighed. It was a sound David had heard several times during the period they had been together. It was a sound of utmost exasperation, verging on disgust at his incredible idealism and naivet? a sound born of her deep-rooted cynicism.

"I was being sarcastic," she replied, tiredly.

"I know. I wasn't."

He looked down on the view before them, at the lake below the hill. Once it must have been beautiful, a breathtaking sight. He had heard some of the older workers talking about the light from the rising sun shining across the water. Each drop seemed to light up one by one, a miniature candle rising into the heavens.

But now…. now the sky was thick and heavy, and what sunlight there was was muted and grey. The water was saturated with silt and mud. It was dull brown, a viscous sludge rather than a torrent.

It was a sign, a reminder always to beware of the consequences of every action you ever took. David came here often.

"What do they call this place anyway?"

"The hill is called Turon'val'na lenn-veni ," he said. "I don't know what the lake is called. The name means…."

"The Place Where Valen Waits," Susan finished. "What was he waiting for, do you think?"

"I don't know. I suppose I could ask someone."

"You could."

There was a pause.

A long pause.

It grew longer.

….

And longer.

"So," Susan said at last.

"So," David replied.

"You never answered my question," Susan said. "What are you doing here? This is the last place I'd ever have expected to find you."

"I live here now. I came here to…. work, I suppose. To rebuild, to…. make right a few things. I did…. a lot of things I hated during the war. I did this, Susan. Me, or people like me. I suppose helping to rebuild it is partly a gesture towards undoing all the things I did then. Does that make any sense to you?"

"No, but then I didn't expect your answer to make any sense. This wasn't your fault, you know."

"Yes it was. I could have done more to prevent it. I could have done…. something."

She sighed again, and shook her head. "I swear I really do not understand you sometimes. If I ever did."

"If we are talking about things not making any sense, what are you doing here? I thought you were dead, or…. gone or something. The last I heard you'd been taken back to Z'ha'dum during the peace treaty talks. And then…. nothing. What have you been doing?"

"Sleeping. That's not a metaphor, by the way. I must have slept almost a whole year. I spoke the entire time."

"I remember you talking in your sleep, Susan. You kept me awake half the night."

"Oh, come now. That wasn't just me talking. No, I…. I needed to clear my mind about a lot of things. There was someone there to talk to me, to explain a few things. I slept to heal my body, and I spoke to heal my mind."

"Who were you talking to?"

"It's…. I really can't explain. If you haven't seen him, then…. I'm sorry, David. I can't tell you. I really can't."

He sat up straight, tensing. "So why are you here? Who was that you were talking to in the temple?"

"I can't tell you, David. Please don't make me."

"You're working for the Shadows, aren't you? Still. After everything they've done to you, you're still working for them. It's over, Susan, the war's…."

"No! David, listen to me. I'm not working for the Shadows. They've gone. I'm not working for them. I was a lot younger the first time I met them. I was scared, and…. I felt so alone. But now…. I feel a lot stronger now. I know what I'm doing, and why. Trust me, David. This is right."

"Sinoval," he said suddenly. "You're working for him, aren't you?"

"I can't say anything more."

"Susan, he's dangerous. He'll get you killed. He's…."

"No one is going to get me killed. Sinoval is…. difficult, yes. And driven, and more than a little frightening at times, but he's a good friend."

"A friend? Him?"

"David, he has more power than any of us can understand. He's set himself on this quest of his for his own reasons. He has the potential to be the biggest tyrant and the most dangerous threat this galaxy has ever known. Can you think of a person more in need of friends?"

"But…. I'm sorry. I just don't know what to think of all this. I don't see you for so long, and then…."

"Thank you, David."

"What for?"

"You don't remember, do you? You spoke to me. You said that you would always be there for me. On Babylon Four."

"That was years ago. What, five, six years?"

"Not for me," she replied. Then she laughed. "Not for me. Take good care, David."

"What? Where are you going? You can't go!"

"I have to."

"You can't. Not now. Not when I've just found you again."

"I have to. I'm sorry, David." She rose and began to walk down the hill. He turned to face her.

"Susan, I…." He stopped. There was nothing to say. "I…." He collapsed to the ground, and simply lay there. He did not know for how long. He did not know how long he cried. He did not even know that one of his tears trickled down the hill where Valen waits, to join the muddy waters of the lake where once, a thousand years ago, he had waited for his one true love to return, the lake created, so some said, from his tears when she did not.

For a single instant, unnoticed by anyone, the light seemed to flicker across the waters, one still, pure, perfect moment of beauty. But it was only a moment, and then it was gone, with no one to see, or even to know it had existed.

Fear. It should not have been able to touch Morden. Not him. Not the man who had watched all those he loved die. Not the man who had died himself. Not the man who had pledged himself to the side of the Lords of Light.

But still, as he took those long, dark steps into the bowels of the earth deep beneath the Royal Palace, Morden felt fear.

He did not like this place. He had not liked it when he had been imprisoned here — twice — and he liked it even less now. The Inquisitors had taken over the dungeons for their own purposes. There were plenty of Shadow agents or spies or conspirators to be questioned and interrogated. Some were perfectly innocent of course, and were released. Some were not, and were not seen again.

Even those who had been freed were…. changed by the experience. Morden saw some of them from time to time, servants moving in the corridors of the palace, nobles meeting in the Court. Their eyes were always downcast, their voices hushed. They never laughed, never told jokes, never seemed to take pleasure in anything.

The Inquisitors were an evil, yes, but a necessary one. The Shadows had hidden for a thousand years after it had been thought they were defeated. Valen and his allies had stormed the gates of Z'ha'dum itself and put to flight all those they found there. Shadow worlds had been occupied, Shadow bases destroyed.

But still they had lived on, hiding, waiting. And those who followed them hid and waited also, moving in silence, keeping to their faith.

This time they had to be sure. There could be no room for doubt. None at all.

No, Morden did not like the Inquisitors. In an ideal world they would not be needed, but then this was very far from an ideal world.

But there was one even the Inquisitors feared. He held no rank — the Inquisitors did not seem to have ranks as such — but he was their leader, the one they all bowed to in acceptance. He had both age and experience, and a fanatical will. Something shone in his eyes…. not madness, not even zeal, but…. necessity.

Morden supposed he could have sent a courier or a servant to deliver this message, but he was the representative of the Vorlons. He was the liaison of the Inquisitors. He would do it himself.

He stopped at the door, the furthest, bottom-most one, naturally. Also the darkest, but strangely, the cleanest. There were no guards. What would be the point? Besides, there could have been Shadow agents amongst the guards anyway. Where better for them to hide?

He knocked at the door, firmly. He would not show this one his fear. There came a crisp, precisely accented, "Enter!" He opened the door and walked in.

"Mr. Morden," Sebastian said, not turning. "What manner of business brings you here?"

The Soul Hunter was hanging suspended by his wrists from a beam at the centre of the room. His eyes were closed, but the strange jewel in his forehead was glowing dully. Morden thought he saw his own reflection within it. Sebastian was not reflected there, obviously.

"We have found his ship," Morden replied. "It has not been boarded, as you ordered, and there are six guards on permanent duty. We have a further twenty-four in the surrounding area and access roads."