Текст книги "Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.(ЛП)"

Автор книги: Гарэт Д. Уильямс

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"Kats…." Kozorr's voice was fading, and everything around her seemed dark. "Kats…. my lady…. Stay awake…. my lady."

I love you.

Had he said those words, or had she only imagined them? She tried to think of something to say, but the words would not come out. She reached up for him, but could not move her arm. Darkness took her at last.

* * *

She moved as though swimming through treacle. Voices exploded in her mind – Delenn's voice, the Vorlon voices, Valen's words…. she could hear them all. But she knew what had to be done.

Somehow Lyta Alexander managed to reach the bridge of the Parmenion, although she could remember nothing of the journey. She was aware only of Delenn's plea for help, and then the solemn orders of the Vorlon that shared her soul.

"Miss Alexander!" started Captain Sheridan. "What is…?"

Everyone on the bridge was looking at her. Captain Sheridan, Commander Corwin, the third-in-command, Major Krantz, the tech ops. She tried to speak, but could not frame the words. The light was shining so brightly in her mind.

She wanted to scream.

And she did.

Her eyes became reflections of the Vorlon within her. Her mouth was wide open and light and beauty poured from it, from her, illuminating the room.

"What is this?" asked Krantz, from seemingly a whole universe away. "Captain, what…?"

The light faded and Lyta, her scream voiced at last, fell to the floor. Sheridan was beside her instantly. "What's happened?" he asked.

"Delenn…. she…. got through to me…. somehow…. She's in trouble…. big trouble…."

"David, try and send a message to Babylon Four. See if you can find out what's going on there."

"Yes, Captain," came the reply. Corwin began barking orders to the technicians.

"Captain Sheridan, we have a duty to be at Sanctuary as soon as possible, do you remember?" Major Krantz again. Lyta found his surface thoughts screaming at her. He was worried about…. something. A conflict of interests. He was…. going to betray them.

"This might be important, Major."

Corwin turned around from the commpanels. "We can't get through to the station. Something's jamming all signals."

Sheridan rose to his feet. "Right, that's it. We're turning about and heading back to the station."

"Captain, you have your orders."

"Yes, I do, Major, and I'm ignoring them. David, how long is it likely to take us to get back?"

"Several hours. We're going to have to reset the navigation and reattach ourselves to the old jump gate beacon. We've still got it in memory, so it shouldn't be too hard."

"Good. Lyta, I'll call for the medics. You look like you need something."

"Nothing they can do for me." Her voice sounded dry, as if it were coming from a stranger. "The Vorlons are playing with me again. I'll…. stay here."

"If you think you can."

"Captain Sheridan! You have been ordered to make for Sanctuary."

"Yes, Major Krantz, and I told you I'm ignoring that order. Babylon Four is in trouble, and they need our help."

"You work for Bester, not G'Kar. Remember that!" Sheridan ignored him. In a fury, Krantz activated his link.

"Do you think we should inform Ben Zayn about this?" asked Corwin. "He might be able to help."

"He's more likely to try to fire on us. Something stinks here, David. This whole…. sudden order to leave was just too…. convenient. No, Bester knew about this, I'd bet anything on it."

"It does seem likely."

"Captain!" Lyta cried, falling to her knees in pain. "Sec…. security are…. They're…." The door to the bridge opened and a squad of Narn security officers entered.

"Ko'Dath," ordered Major Krantz. "Captain Sheridan and Commander Corwin are relieved of duty as of this moment. You are to escort them to the brig."

Ko'Dath made a gesture of feigned surprise, and looked at Sheridan. "Captain?"

Sheridan smiled. "Major Krantz isn't feeling too well, Ko'Dath. I think he needs a lie down in one of the holding cells. Take him there, will you?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Oh, and after that, ready your people as much as you can. I think we might need you when we get to Babylon Four."

"We're always ready, Captain."

"You can't do this, Sheridan! You…."

"I've already done it, Major." Sheridan turned his back as the Narn Bat Squad dragged the protesting Major Krantz away from the bridge. None of the technicians stirred as they did so.

"Well, we've done it now," said Corwin.

"Ah, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

Lyta smiled through her pain.

* * *

"You know how to stop his pain, G'Kar. Just tell me."

The Narn coughed, laughter spluttering through his breath. "You…. still…. do not…. understand. The Machine can never be yours…. You…. do…. not…. are not…. ready…."

Donne looked at Ta'Lon. He was unconscious, blood staining his face and the front of his clothing. "Tu'Pari, you idiot! I told you to be careful with him. I don't want him dead."

"He isn't. At a rough guess, he made himself fall unconscious."

Donne was surprised. "You can do that?"

"It was an old trick taught amongst the Thenta Ma'Kur. A trick to protect us from awkward questions if we should be captured. These…. Rangers must have found out about it somehow."

"Ah. Annoying. Wake him up." Tu'Pari nodded.

"I will do what I can."

"And please put that thing away."

"Thing? Oh, this." He held up a red orb, thick blood dripping from it. Behind him, Garibaldi's friend was being very sick. "A trophy of conquest. And please…. lower your tone. I am not your slave, lady."

You will be whatever I tell you to be,came the thought, but she did not give voice to it. She needed Tu'Pari for the moment, and the humans were growing less and less willing to be here. Sooner or later she would have to kill them, but not until she had figured out how to access all the secrets of this Machine. With all its knowledge at her disposal, she would be able to hold off anything. Without it…. Ta'Lon had nearly defeated her just by himself. What if more like him came?

"This thing has some offensive capability. I know it does. But…." She smiled, alien thoughts buzzing through her mind. The Machine was responding to her. Words, thoughts…. images…. all there.

Weaponry, enough to protect this planet for a million years.

She laughed. "Well, G'Kar. You didn't tell me about all those long-range missiles this thing has hidden around. Who knows just how vast this Machine is?"

"I did…. but you do not…. you are not…." He coughed again. "You…. can…. not…."

"Oh yes, I can." She started, and then laughed again. "There's a jump point opening. A ship's arriving. I think I have some target practice. Tell me what I need to know, G'Kar, or I'll start filling the skies with as many of these missiles as I can. And I'll turn that precious station of yours into so much scrap metal.

"Well?"

Alone, off to the side, still comatose, thoughts began to race through Susan Ivanova's mind – guiding her, directing her, pushing her. The Keeper's soft words touched her, and sent thoughts into Donne's mind, manipulating her to the desired end.

Ivanova's eyes opened.

* * *

Londo looked out through the window of his transport, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sea beneath him. Unfortunately it was too dark, but he could imagine it there, proud and majestic, knowing nothing of his concerns or his problems.

Timov's angry words still sounded in his memory. He had hated to leave her like that, but if the Gods were willing, then they would meet again.

"It was Malachi. He…. he has invited me to attend him in the capital."

Timov had snorted. "Mad, of course?"

Londo had looked at her, realising just how much he had grown to love her recently. "I will be leaving within the hour."

He did not know why he had to go. Well, he did know, but he could not put it into words. Vague concepts of friendship and sacrifice and understanding all flitted through his mind, but he knew as well as Timov did that none of that really mattered. What did matter was…. he did not know. But something had to matter. He knew only that if he did not go, he would lose any opportunity to end this without more bloodshed.

Without the sacrifice of another Camulodo.

"Malachi is my friend," he had tried to explain.

"What sort of friend can he be? Look at what he has done!"

"Malachi has not done everything."

"He's done enough!"

No, that was it. Londo needed to see Malachi again, to look into his eyes and see, once and for all, if his friend was still there. Malachi had taken in a young and idealistic noble's son and trained him in the ways of politics and the Court. He had told Londo something, once:

"We possess power far greater than that of any others, on any other world in the galaxy. And yet how do we use it? Power is nothing if it is not used, but it is even less if used wrongly. Remember that, Londo."

What could have happened to him?

Beside him Lennier sat, apparently asleep, but probably just meditating. He had not insisted on coming. There had just been no doubt that he not would be left behind. The two of them had begun this whole quest together after all. They would have to finish it together.

It seemed so long ago, that journey to Kazomi 7 with Delenn. Where was she now? Safe and at peace, he hoped.

Well, safer and more at peace than he was.

The capital, and the Court, drew him onwards.

* * *

Captain Smith had not been sure what to expect from the notorious war criminal Satai Delenn. He had never seen her before in person, although he had been given access to records…. from both before and after her emergence from her cocoon.

Neither of them matched the picture of peace and serenity before him now. She was seated on a narrow bench in the holding cell, hands folded in her lap, head raised, looking him squarely in the eye. She looked very different from either of the images he had seen. Apparently she had gone through a second transformation. Human and Minbari were now blended perfectly in her.

She made him…. uncomfortable.

"It is my place to inform you that you will be taken from here to Proxima Three, there to stand trial for war crimes against the human race. You will be afforded every right to defence and justice according to our laws. Do you understand what I have just told you?"

"I understand," she said. Her voice was strangely accented, soft, but with layers of steel beneath. "And we both know, Captain Smith, that my trial will be anything but fair."

"My Government has assured me that it will be. In any case your trial is not my concern. I am just a soldier. It is my duty to escort you there and hand you over to the appropriate authorities. That is all."

"Nobody is 'just' anything, Captain."

"As you say, Satai."

"I no longer go by that title. It was taken from me a long time ago."

"Then how should I address you?"

"My name is Delenn, and it is as good a name as any other. If you are uncomfortable with that, however, then my people gave me another title to replace the one they took from me. Zha'valen."

"And that means?"

"Outcast."

He opened his mouth to speak, but then realised he had nothing worth saying. Simply being around her troubled him in a way he could not identify. Maybe because she looked so human, or so vulnerable. It was hard to envisage her as the monstrous butcher he had always believed the Minbari to be.

His link suddenly beeped and he activated it. "Yes. Smith here."

It was Lieutenant Franklin, from the bridge of the Babylon. "Captain, our sensors have detected something approaching from hyperspace. One of our ships. A capital ship."

"All our capital ships are here. What…?" He suddenly paled, and looked at Delenn. There was a knowing look in her eyes, and he suddenly felt the burden of his ghosts rising up before him.

And a chance to exorcise himself of it forever. "It's Sheridan. I'm on my way back to the ship. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"But Captain, your orders are to…."

"The station is secure, and the capture of the station and the Machine were our top priorities. To safeguard our acquisitions here we need to defeat these reinforcements, and for that, I need to be on the bridge of my ship. I will be there immediately."

He turned and left the holding cell, barking quick instructions to the two security officers on guard there. As he left he heard Delenn saying something, and he turned back to her. "Walk with Valen, Captain," she repeated softly.

Troubled, he ignored her, and began to run towards the shuttle bays.

Sheridan. The Starkiller. At last, another chance to prove fully to everyone that he was worthy of sitting in the captain's chair where the Starkiller himself had once sat. They had clashed before, but inconclusively. This time it would be more decisive.

Smith would later wonder how his future would have turned if he had remained on the station, co-ordinating its defence from there. He would never know, but he would always feel that the decision to make for his ship had been the one greatest moment of his life.

* * *

The Parmenionemerged from hyperspace to find the four ships of the Resistance Government waiting for it. Sheridan looked at them, and felt a tightening in his chest. Here it was: the conflict he had been dreading and hoping to avoid ever since he had broken away from Proxima.

"This is Captain Sheridan of the Parmenion," he said, the comm channels carrying the message to his four opponents, and also, he hoped, to the captains of the Drazi and Brakiri ships. "Babylon Four and Epsilon Three are under my protection. You are to leave now."

"Captain Sheridan," came a reply. A voice he recognised. General Ryan. "You are wanted for war crimes against the Resistance Government. Stand down your ship now, and we promise to spare those of your crew who are innocent of any wrongs against humanity."

"That is not an option, General."

* * *

On board the Stra'Kath, the Drazi captain had been sitting impatiently for hours, wondering why he was not being ordered to fight. Still, he placed trust in Taan Churok, and would wait.

Finally, the order he had been waiting for arrived.

"The control room is ours once more. The station is ours." Taan Churok's face on the screen. "Allies are here. Fight."

The captain grinned. He did not bother checking in with his Brakiri counterpart. If he was willing to fight, then he would join in.

He set target for the human ships, and ordered the Stra'Kathforward.

* * *

Donne smiled. "You were warned."

The Machine rumbled, and a missile soared from the bowels of the planet, shooting up into space.

Chapter 5

His spirit was everywhere, even now. It permeated this room, all the rooms, the entire ship. The EAS Babylon, his ship, Sheridan's ship, always. Dexter Smith, Sheridan's replacement on the Babylon, was always aware of that. He had lived in Sheridan's shadow for the year he had been on board, and now at last he was within sight of ending that curse. They had clashed once before, an inconclusive fight at best. This would be different. There would be no retreat here.

Matters hung suspended, in the balance. On their side, four Earthforce capital ships, the Babylon, the Morningstar, the Corinthianand the Marten. Plus, hopefully, the resources of the Great Machine. The signal indicated that the Machine had been taken, but there had been no word since. This had not been unexpected, but Smith was still troubled. He had been readying a crew to visit the planet and ascertain its status when he had received word of Sheridan's arrival.

On their side, one human capital ship, one Drazi Sunhawk, and one Brakiri vessel. Plus the greatest human captain of recent times.

"This is Captain Sheridan of the Parmenion," came the voice over open comm channels. His voice. Smith straightened when he heard it. He was still breathing heavily from his mad dash back to his ship, but his exhaustion did not bother him at all. "Babylon Four and Epsilon Three are under my protection. You are to leave, now."

"Captain Sheridan," came a reply. A voice Smith recognised. General Ryan. He had command of this mission, but it was very clear that he was in some disfavour with the Resistance Government. "You are wanted for war crimes against the Resistance Government. Stand down your ship now, and we promise to spare those of your crew who are innocent of any wrongs against humanity."

"That is not an option, General."

There was a silence. Smith waited, visualising his opponent. He had never met Sheridan personally, but he knew everything about the infamous Starkiller. He was reckoned the greatest human strategist alive. He had saved the day at the Battle of Mars, many observers held that it was his intervention that had saved the Narns during their first war with the Centauri, and while reports of his more recent activities were highly confidential, Smith had heard rumours of skirmishes with the Streibs and Drakh.

"Launch all remaining Starfury squadrons," came Ryan's order over a coded channel. Two of the Babylon's four squadrons had been launched already, upon arrival at the station, and the other two were held in strict readiness. Something similar would have been done on board the other ships. Smith gave the order.

"Do not engage unless we are attacked first," Ryan ordered. "Repeat…. do not engage unless engaged. If conflict does begin, targets are: the destruction of Sheridan's ship, no survivors taken or mercy offered; the disabling or destruction of the Alliance ships, with survivors taken on board and treated well; and attacks on the station are to be directed at weaponry and Starfuries only. The destruction of the station should come as a very last resort.

"Smith, how is our presence on the station?"

"Enough to hold the command deck, hopefully. I ordered my men to secure and control it, but whether it can be held is uncertain, sir."

"And Satai Delenn?"

"In custody, but on the station, sir. I…. thought it imprudent to bring her on board the Babylon. She has been here before after all…. and there may be sympathisers among my crew."

"Can your men guarantee that she will be kept safe on board the station?"

"Not for certain, sir."

"Damn! You may have to answer for that, Smith, but there's nothing we can do now. It was your task to secure the station and placate the ambassadors there, remember?

"Philby, what signs of activity from the planet?"

Smith closed his eyes and leaned back heavily in his chair. What Ryan had said was true…. he should have remained on the station, he should have taken more security on board, and he should have brought Delenn to the Babylonwhen he came. But how could he tell Ryan just how much he had been haunted by Sheridan ever since taking over this post? How could he explain how much humanity he had seen in Delenn's deep green eyes? How could he…?

He started as Franklin looked up, speaking. "Captain, something's coming up from the planet. It's…."

The ship rocked, shaking in a blast that seemed almost to tear it apart. Smith fell forward, his head smashing against his forward commpanel. His ears started ringing. Desperately he scrambled to his feet, wiping away the blood from his forehead and glancing at Franklin.

"What was that?"

"A missile of some sort…. from the planet, somewhere below the surface."

"Something powerful enough to come from below the planet's surface…. and reach this high into orbit? What sort of…?" He grimaced, wincing as his head pounded. "What's our status?"

"Hull integrity pretty much intact, engines intact, jump engines at eighty percent capacity…. ship-to-ship communications are down entirely. The missile didn't impact on us, but it did send out some sort of pulse which shut down the comm."

Smith sat back, trying to take it in. "Are the sensors working?" What was happening? The Machine was supposed to be under control.

"Yes…. it looks like it anyway…. Captain, the Drazi ship has started attacking the Corinthian!"

Smith closed his eyes and whispered a swift prayer. "You heard the General's orders, Lieutenant…. we attack."

* * *

This was not what Michael Garibaldi had been expecting when he arrived on Babylon 4. He remembered Bester's orders, as well as the manner in which they had been delivered: cursory, peremptory, and to-the-point.

As he looked mutely at the scene before him, he began to feel very sick at the thought that Bester might have been involved in this. Garibaldi recognised Donne, one of the Boss's favourite telepaths, given the plum job of head of the embassy at Proxima. She had been recalled from there amidst much speculation. Garibaldi now knew the reason for that move.

Everything fitted together too neatly. All of it. Sheridan's recall to Sanctuary…. the Boss's supposed 'illness' preventing him from being at G'Kar's summit.

How long had the Boss been planning this?

Garibaldi tried to think, tried to recall the moment where things had changed. Bester had been kind and…. his old self when Frank had been born. He had seemed almost…. touched by the child. He had also been happy ever since his return from Proxima. Few people knew the details, but Garibaldi did know that he had brought someone back with him.

So when had he changed? Perhaps it had always been like this, and he just hadn't noticed before.

But still, it was hard to reconcile the Boss who had cried when holding a newborn baby with the man who could so callously have ordered this great betrayal. Garibaldi looked on in stunned horror, unable to think or do anything, while two Narns were tortured right in front of his eyes.

How am I going to tell Lianna what I saw here? And Mary, she looks…. I don't know, but she can't have anything left in her stomach to throw up.

There was a sudden movement, and a loud scream that brought his mind back to the scene at the Heart of the Machine. The scream did not come from either of the Narns, however, but from the other man there.

He was hovering in mid-air directly before Donne. His arms and legs were spreadeagled and his mouth was wide open.

"This Machine has so many attributes," Donne said, smiling. "I'm so happy it's finally sharing some of them with me. Tell me, Number Two…. did you know that one of those attributes is enhanced telepathy? I could read your thoughts as if you were screaming them across the room at me. Do you think I'm a fool?"

"I…. I…." He was trying to speak, but each time a word left his mouth his body jerked and his next words were lost in choking fits.

"Telekinesis as well. I was never able to master that art…. it's a pity. I always felt I disappointed Al by not being a teek as well as a teep. But look at this, and without even trying…. This is a truly wonderful device you have here, G'Kar. You can't have been using the half of it."

"You…. can…. not…." the Narn rasped, but then his head fell forward.

"And you…. thinking about killing me. What's your name? I can't just put a number on your grave…. assuming I give you one. It will mess up my records something chronic. I do like to maintain a good inventory of my victims."

"Put him down," cried the woman. "This was not what we came here for!"

"What youcame here for? That hardly matters. And if you want me to put him down…. I'll be happy to…."

Garibaldi saw what was coming next and closed his eyes in a hurry. Mary didn't, and he heard her scream as well as the damp sound of a falling body. When he opened his eyes again the mass on the floor did not look like anything that had once been human.

"Murderer!" cried the woman, charging forward. Donne smiled, and she fell as if she had run directly into a brick wall.

"Why, yes, I am."

"You want me to kill her?" asked the Narn torturer. He was covered in blood, and was playing with a small ball in his right hand. Garibaldi did not want to think about what it was.

"No. We'll save her for later."

The Narn nodded, and then looked up. "One question. You said you were working out how to use that thing." Donne signalled affirmation. "Then why am I torturing these two?"

"You looked to be having so much fun I didn't want to stop you. Besides, I'm enjoying watching you."

"Oh…. well, that's good to know, at least. How's the battle going up there?"

"Ah…. lots of people dying. I think it's time they became aware of my presence once more, don't you think?"

Garibaldi looked at her, and wanted to throw up. He had never before seen such evil in one form. But there was something about her he couldn't quite fathom. Her eyes….

They were bleeding.

* * *

Great men, men such as history will revere forever, will remember with words of hushed awe, will speak of with reverence, will even worship.

Am I such a man? Is Sinoval? Was Kalain? Did greatness leave us forever with Dukhat's death, or is this the emergence of a new age? Just as Valen heralded a thousand years ago, is the dawning of a new Minbar within sight?

Sonovar straightened and turned as a figure arrived behind him. Half-expecting it to be Forell, he was ready with a sharp retort. The priestling had been…. unnerving him recently. Something about him felt wrong, but his advice was sound, his presence a moral victory and his soul possessed of a very warrior-like practicality.

It was not Forell, but someone he found much easier to tolerate. Ironic, wasn't it? That the leader of one third of the Minbari Federation found more kinship with an alien whose race was banished by Valen long ago than with one of his own people.

"Ramde Haxtur," he said, making the ritual gesture of greeting. An archaic motion, now practised only by some of the more traditional priestlings. There was much about the Tak'cha that was archaic though, and Sonovar saw fit to acknowledge the beliefs of his allies. "How goes the attack?"

"We report that all is as you wished, Zaron'dar." Sonovar noted the title. He had never heard it before, and had no idea what it meant. The Ramde's tone, however, indicated that it was one deserving of respect. "The rebel leaders have been defeated and punished for their sins."

"Already? Faster than I had anticipated."

Haxtur looked pleased. "Thank you, Zaron'dar. We act with the strength the Z'ondar once praised in our people. They have not followed your crusade, and therefore they have rejected the will of the Z'ondar. As such they deserved punishment."

"Indeed, Ramde. I thank you for informing me."

"Then you will go there now?"

"Yes. They have to see, and know who it was who did this to them. They also have to see that I can be merciful. Your men did only attack military and Government targets?"

"Of course. They obey my orders, which are your orders, and thus, the Z'ondar's will."

"Of course they do. They are to be commended for their skill. Now, Ramde, it is time to show them to whom their loyalties must now belong. They have erred once in agreeing to serve a weak and traitorous Government, and that is only mortal. I will give them a chance to change their allegiances. To reject me again, however, would be treason itself, and for that…."

"Death. Never let it be said that we are not merciful, Zaron'dar."

"Indeed not." Sonovar imagined the planet nearby, and his soul felt the presence of the two he sought. "And also…. they are there. Sinoval's servants. I will find them, and…." He left it hanging.

Haxtur bowed, and left. He understood completely.

* * *

The Parmenionswept forward, making for the nearest enemy ship, the Marten. Left broadsides fired, striking the newest of the human ships across its dark and glistening hull. The Martenturned, looking predatory, almost alive. Its eerily organic surface seemed to gleam.

"Looks a bit familiar, doesn't it?" asked Commander Corwin, looking at his Captain. Sheridan's eyes were dark, his expression hard. Both of them had seen such augmented ships at Minbar, but the Martenwas more advanced than either the Morningstaror the Corinthian. It appeared that the engineers were perfecting the process.

"What are they doing to our ships?" Sheridan asked. "People like us are having to work and live inside that thing." He remembered all too well the mental screams of the true Shadow ships as they flew overhead. He wondered if these ships screamed as well.

The Martenfired, and the Parmenionrocked with the blast.

Sheridan staggered to his feet. "That thing offends me. Destroy it."

The Parmenion's Starfuries blazed forward, swarming over the mockery of a human ship, raining their blasts upon it. It seemed to have no Starfuries of its own, but those from the Morningstarand the Babylonwere rushing forward to help out.

"Lyta," cried the Captain, "is there enough in that thing for you to block out?"

"I…. I don't know. I'm trying." The telepath appeared to be in agony. She was shaking and her face was very pale, especially compared to her dark eyes. These suddenly turned bright gold, a brilliant light that engulfed the room, almost blinding the bridge crew.

"I can see it now," she said, in a voice not her own. "I can see it…."

The Martensuddenly came to a halt. The ship was screaming.

The Morningstarmoved forward.

* * *

They talked for hours, their words filling the air. They walked through the city together, he showing her the myriad wonders of this place of hope. It was a far cry from the blood and terror at Epsilon 3.

For him, for the Minbari prophet known as Valen, it was a chance to remember who he had been. Jeffrey Sinclair was known to him only in a garbled haze of memories, a brief flash here, a snatch of conversation there. No one had known Sinclair better than the woman he had loved, and walking with her, talking with her, he came more to life within Valen than he had ever been.

Perhaps that was the intention, a more paranoid and suspicious person than he might have thought.

For her, it was a similar connection to something long lost. Since the fall of Earth she had been wandering, drifting aimlessly. She had been alive, but she had not been living. Now she was. She gave him comfort, and was comforted by the very fact that she did so.

And something watching in the back of her mind welcomed the relationship.

They stopped just as dawn was breaking, finding themselves at a small site set aside from the general flurry of construction and repair that marked the city. Valen gently stepped forward, and paused.