Текст книги "Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.(ЛП)"
Автор книги: Гарэт Д. Уильямс
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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 38 страниц)
"Who…. who are you talking about?" He tried to rise again, and managed to hook his arm over a handrail and haul himself up. Susan watched him, thinking about Anna. She had loved this man, and he had betrayed her.
"I don't suppose she told you, did she? No, truthfulness and honesty are not particularly big Minbari virtues, whatever they like to tell anyone. Minbari do not lie, they say. Maybe not, but they never tell anyone the whole truth either.
"What do you know about Valen?"
Before today she had hardly known anything herself, but they had told her all she needed to know.
"Minbari…. not born of Minbari," Sheridan muttered.
"So, maybe she does tell you something after all? Pillow talk, perhaps. Yes, Valen was Minbari not born of Minbari. He was human in fact. A human from this time who used some machine to change himself into a Minbari, and took this station backwards in time to the last war against my people, where he led the Vorlons and the Minbari and all the other perfect little races to victory.
"And imagine our surprise when we discovered all of this. Imagine our surprise when we realised that all we had to do was kill one man and we'd win the war then. The Minbari would be finished and…." She paused, her tone of voice changing, becoming more…. soft, more human.
"Think about it, John! If we kill Valen now, then the Minbari will be destroyed. A thousand years ago! No Minbari, no Battle of the Line, no destruction of Earth. None of this will have happened. You'll still have your Anna. I'll still have my mother. Everything can be so much better."
And then a coldness swept across her mind, and she stiffened. What was the point? He wouldn't listen. They knew that. They had told her as much. "But no. Don't bother answering. I know you. You're worse now than you will be in the future. I know you won't help me, at least not willingly.
"They're coming for you. Your little Minbari whore and the one who betrayed us all, the entire human race, by becoming one of them. They're going to come for you, and we're going to kill them."
"Delenn…." he rasped. "No…." He stumbled forward and fell, blinking, his body swallowed in the mist.
Susan sighed. Another time flash. How many was that? What was he seeing? Past, future…. what? She briefly wished she could share his visions. Oh, to know the future, to know if she would be successful here, that would be….
She turned, warned by her guardians. They began to shimmer into view, just as Valen appeared at the far side of the hall.
He stopped, and stood stock still.
* * *
"Mollari! Mollari!"
Valo was furious. He was also bleeding profusely. Cartagia. That complete madman Cartagia. What was he up to? What…?
"Aaagh!" Valo continued limping forward. Two of his soldiers were at his side, helping him. He knew both of them well, had done since the Immolan campaign. Good men, both of them. They deserved better than to be led by that feeble-minded Cartagia, or the rest of the weak Court.
And Malachi was still alive. That was the worst bit, but…. ah well. He was an old man, and would probably die from his injuries. And Valo's forces still controlled the majority of the palace compound as well. They would track down Cartagia soon enough. And then…. he didn't know. What would that bastard do if he had Valo in his power?
He dreaded to think.
"Mollari! Where are you?"
This was absurd. Carn had been given an express task. He was to stay at the back, co-ordinating things from the central base. He would receive reports on which nobles had been killed, which areas of the palace had been taken and so forth. Carn was a loyal man, so where in the Gods' Names was he?
"Mollari!"
"Here I am, Lord." Carn came into view from a nearby doorway. Valo recognised it as leading into a large barracks. Carn must have moved the base there. Perhaps there had been more wounded than they had expected.
"I need a medic, and quickly. Cartagia…. got to me."
"Yes, in here, Lord. Hurry."
Limping forward as fast as he could, supported by his two companions, Valo made for the door and entered the room. It was a typical barracks, a place where the Palace Guards slept, rested and did…. whatever it was they did when they were not on duty. This one was just like every other barracks room Valo had seen, except for one small detail.
Most of the other barracks did not contain Lord-General Marrago, accompanied by twelve soldiers bearing the seal of the island of Selini.
"Valo. I wish we could have met under different circumstances, but we take what we are given, hmm?"
"Marrago! What are you doing here? Mollari, what is the meaning of…?"
"I arrived here a few moments ago, accompanied by as many of the Selini Guard and militia from Gallia and Sphodria as we could muster. I will give them credit. There were more than I had anticipated. They must be grateful that we saved their cities. And now we will save the capital. You will stand down your weapons, and your men."
"Joking, of course, Marrago. Join me. The Republic needs strength, you can see that. We're both soldiers, and we were both betrayed by this Court. You know what the Republic needs."
"Yes, I do." Marrago stepped forward slowly. "And the Republic does not need you. You will issue an order to your men to stand down, now."
"No! The Court is ours now. I will rule here. I…." Marrago reached out and struck him hard across the face. Valo fell sprawling, crying out as his wound tore open again. His two guards went for their weapons, but Marrago's Selini Guard trained theirs on them. They paused.
"You will issue that order, Valo."
"Mollari…. help me. What…. what are you…?"
"I'm…. sorry, my Lord, but I was with the Lord-General from the beginning. I had hoped matters would not go this far, but…." Carn bowed his head. "I am sorry, my Lord."
"Damn you, Mollari! Damn…. you!"
"You will recall your men now. You will give them all an order to stand down their arms and report to me personally. I assure you, Valo, that only the commanders will be held responsible for what has happened here today. Those soldiers who were merely following orders…. they will be permitted to rejoin their regiments. The divisions within this Court, and this Republic…. they all end today.
"We should not be fighting each other, Valo."
"We…. needed…. strength."
"And we shall have it. But not under you. You brought only chaos and anarchy. Issue that order."
"You will…. protect…. my men…?"
"Yes, Valo. You have my word as a soldier, and as a General. Only the commanders and those who refuse to stand down will be punished."
"Damn you, Marrago…. and…. damn you…. Mollari…. I will…. give…. your order…."
Marrago nodded, smiling.
* * *
The heavens opened, blazing with a myriad of colours. For some the sight might be a thing of beauty, an image to inspire words and verse and more things of beauty.
Not for Sonovar. Like the man who had trained him, one of the few things they had in common…. like Sinoval, Sonovar was no poet.
He could see them all. Minbari warships, led by those who had sworn fealty to Sinoval, some of those ships that had been assigned to guard and protect the other worlds. There were the Soul Hunter ships, for so long instruments of fear to the Minbari. It was ironic that they would now be bringing salvation.
And there was Cathedral, the massive vessel that housed the Soul Hunters and their souls…. and their Primarch.
"There are many of them, my lord," spoke Forell, at his side. "More than us, perhaps?"
"Numerically, yes," Sonovar acknowledged. "But then I knew that when I started this. The relative firepower of the Tak'cha and the Shagh Toth has yet to be determined, however, and I would rather not test it out here. We have done what we came for, after all. No, there will be no battle here today."
"Then, with respect, lord…. why are we still here?"
Sonovar threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, Forell, you are no warrior. You have no courage, and that is why your caste could never truly rule. There is something to show…. Primarch Sinoval. I will show him the lengths great men will go to…. for victory."
He fell silent as two Tak'cha ships blazed forward. They were smaller than a Minbari capital ship, but larger than one of the Shagh Toth carriers. These vessels were designed for transport more than battle, after all.
The nearest Minbari warship fired. Sonovar could not identify it, which was a pity. He would have liked to be able to say a prayer for the soul of its captain.
The Tak'cha ships swivelled in space, dodging the blasts. Moving with startling speed, they shot forward. And with an explosion Sonovar could see but not hear, they crashed directly into the warship.
"Hear me, Sinoval!" he roared, knowing that his message would be sent to his enemy. "Everyone and everything who follows you, I will destroy! All you love, I will destroy! Your ships will be torn apart, and your worlds sown with salt!
"And your Shagh Toth demons…. them I will annihilate utterly. You are a dead man walking, Sinoval, as are all those you love, and all those you lead."
He stood back, ending the signal. Jump points opened, and his entire fleet fled into hyperspace. Sinoval would not try to follow. He was too experienced a warrior for that. A battle commenced in anger was a battle lost from the instant it started.
"A victory, my lord," observed Forell drily.
"Yes," he admitted, smiling. "A victory, but a beginning only. It is very far from over."
And on the pinnacle of his castle of the winds on Cathedral, standing above the space from which Sonovar and his ships had just fled, Primarch Sinoval was silent, looking at the devastated wreckage of the Hosigeru.
"I heard your words," he said softly, his eyes dark. "You will kill all I love, hmm? Ah, but Sonovar…. there is no one I love."
* * *
Londo looked at the throne before him, draped in the Imperial purple. How many had died for that strip of cloth and that uncomfortable-looking chair? He hobbled forward to it and ran his hands across the fabric.
Then he snorted and turned, trying to remember the way to Malachi's quarters. He had lived in the Court for most of his life, but it had never felt so alien to him as it did now.
There was the sound of movement off in a corner. "Who is there?" Londo barked, hoping his voice was sterner than he felt.
"Minister Mollari?" said a frightened voice, and a stumbling figure came out from behind the purple drapes. "It's me…. You remember me, don't you? Vir Cotto. I was Ambas…. I mean, Emperor Refa's attach? on Minbar."
"Vir! Yes, I remember you. I hadn't heard anything about you for months. I'd supposed you were dead. It is…. good to know that you are not. Have you heard anything from…. our other friend recently?"
"No. No, not a word. Interstellar communications have been down for a long time, apart from some special ministerial business. Emperor Refa made me a Runner for the Court and, well…."
"Yes, yes. We will have time to talk later. Which…. which way is it to…?"
There was the sound of more movement from behind him and Londo spun, as easily as he was able to, anyway. A lot of movement this time.
"Greetings, Londo," said a familiar voice, one he had never expected to hear here. "We have taken the capital. It is…. pacified and united."
"Marrago! What are you doing here? You were to stay behind in Gallia and Sphodria. You…." Behind him there were a great many soldiers, some Londo recognised from the Selini Guard, others from the palace itself.
"Your wife persuaded me otherwise. A most forceful woman."
"Oh, I know," he said, with a hint of pride. "What is the…. what is the state of things here, then?"
"Lord Valo is under arrest, and his men have been recalled. Valo's commanders are to answer for their actions, but his men will not be punished. There will be considerable leeway, I think, to explain today's events. A task that will fall to you, Majesty."
"Good. Is there any fighting still…. what did you call me?"
"Yes, Majesty. Some of Valo's men have refused to accept the recall order, but they will soon be caught. I would propose the institution of martial law in the capital and surrounding areas, as well as a curfew for the foreseeable future until order is restored. I will also send as many of our forces as can be spared to Selini, Gallia and Sphodria, to maintain peace there."
"Yes…. yes, that is fine, but…. about that 'Majesty' part…."
"There is no other viable candidate, Londo. None at all. The Republic must be made strong, and we cannot be made strong until we have a strong leader, and a strong military. I will deal with the military, but I fear the rest is up to you."
"I merely wanted to expose Cartagia and Elrisia…. reform the Centarum…. bring some order, and then let them choose a new Emperor. I never wanted…."
"I fear there is no choice in this matter, Majesty. Go…. claim your throne."
"But…."
"The army will follow me, and I will follow you. The Centarum can wait until later. It will take a long time to recover from the ramifications of these events, and a stern hand will be needed in the interim."
Londo nodded, his face ashen. "Damn her. She was right. Damn him too."
"Majesty?"
Londo waved in the direction of Cartagia's body. "Take…. take him away. He…. I will not let him win. You hear that, Marrago? I will not let him win."
"No, Majesty. He will not win."
Londo looked back at the throne, cursing softly. He had grown to hate that chair. It caused nothing but hatred, fear, and death. And now he was to sit in it. Oh well, someone had to. There was something Lennier had once said to him: Who better to claim power than the one who does not want it?
Lennier…. "Malachi!" Londo cried out. "He is wounded. Find him. Get him to a doctor. Now!"
"Your will, Majesty." Marrago turned and began barking orders to his soldiers. Londo made to go with him, but Marrago stopped him. "You will need a doctor yourself, Londo. Cartagia cannot have died easily."
"He wanted to die, Marrago. He foresaw…. all of this. I will be the Last Emperor, and I will guide us all to the brink of oblivion. He knew that. That was why he didn't want the task. He wasn't strong enough for it." The words were delivered quietly, in a near whisper. Only one other person heard them.
Marrago's reply was equally hushed. "Then prove him wrong. Be the Emperor you always wanted to be. Make us strong again. Take our people back to the stars…. Deliver our destiny."
"Yes. You are right…. although I wish you weren't." Londo stepped back and looked at the throne for a third time. It was raised on a dais, just a short step, but an important symbolic one. It looked a thousand feet high to him now. He could not make the ascent alone.
"Help me to my throne, old friend."
"It will be my pleasure…. my Emperor."
Slowly and gently, Marrago guided Londo to the throne. He sat down.
* * *
There were things that went well beyond anger, past fury, and into an infinitely more dangerous sense of calm and peace. Sinoval felt at peace as he walked through the ruined streets of Tarolin 2, mentally assessing the damage. It was as if he were in a void, his warrior's instincts having taken over. Everything had become a matter of tactics and logistics, paper numbers of gain and loss.
The damage was concentrated on the Government buildings and thereabouts. There had been no general orbital bombardment, but a precise and targeted destruction of a specific area of the city.
Not far away there lay a body. By what he could tell from her clothing she was a worker, an administrator in the Ministry of Agriculture. The body was comparatively fresh. She had survived the initial attack, but had been taken down by a precise blow to the back of the neck, which had severed vital nerve tissue and caused immediate death.
Sinoval paused, musing on this. It was not an uncommon mode of killing, used primarily on those in flight, but there was something different about the wound. Almost as if it had been done by a very clumsy warrior, which hardly seemed to fit, or by someone working a little differently. Sonovar's alien allies, in all likelihood. Their weapons were similar to the denn'bok, but with subtle differences.
These aliens must have done the majority of the ground-based killing, mopping up those who had escaped the immediate attack. Did Sonovar trust the aliens more than his own warriors, or had the warriors refused to kill their own people? Possibilities for weakness on the rebel's part, there.
A child was sitting next to the body, trying to make the woman wake up. The child – he could not tell if it was male or female – looked up at Sinoval with pleading eyes. He ignored it, and walked on. He had always hated children.
As he walked through the city, accompanied as always by his guard of two Soul Hunters, and by a larger group of Minbari warriors who called themselves the Primarch's Blades, he collated information, studying and storing it.
A precise attack, concentrated at one point. Sonovar did not want to harm civilians. He was hitting only those in the Government. Why? To take out the power base, and destabilise? Or as a punishment for allying with Sinoval?
But if the latter were the case, then where were Kats and Kozorr? They had been the first, after all, to swear fealty.
His heart began to quicken, but he calmed himself. He could do no good to either of them by panicking.
Not long afterwards one of the Primarch's Blades stepped up to him. There were a great many of them now, more than he had expected. All of them were warriors, having renounced their former clans and taken on a new one. They all wore black, with Sinoval's personal crest affixed to the front of their tunics. Each of them also bore a tattoo on their face. It resembled a blindfold, a black line from either side of the crest, across the eyes.
Sinoval smiled to himself, recognising an old custom from a very old time.
"We have found her, Primarch," the Blade said, bowing formally. "The Lady Kats. She claims to be busy in a place of respite nearby. I will guide you there, by your will, Primarch."
Sinoval nodded and stepped up after the Blade, his honour guard of Soul Hunters following him, easily matching his pace. Kats was alive, then. That was good. He was…. happy to hear that.
What had he said to himself after receiving Sonovar's message? T here is no one I love. It was true. He had never really been capable of that emotion, for no reason he understood. He had simply never been able to share his life or soul with another, never been able to open himself up, to place himself at risk in that way. He had looked at those who were in love: Delenn with her Starkiller, Kozorr's slow and hesitant feelings around Kats, and he had never envied any of them. He had come close with Deeron, but that was more a matter of mutual respect between warriors. She had not loved him, of that he was sure, and for his part, he had respected her, admired her. In his youth he had thought that might be love, but the moment she had fled from his side during the first night of their sleep-watching ceremony he had known the truth, and had always been content.
But Kats…. about her, he was not sure, and that troubled him.
The building was damaged, but not badly. It did not seem to have been a target for the initial phase of the attack. Subtle signs indicated that Sonovar's aliens had been here however, and they had not been alone. Sonovar himself had been here with them.
What could be here that was so important as to attract Sonovar himself? The Primarch had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew the answer.
He stepped inside and saw countless bodies, some dead, some dying. People tried desperately or futilely to heal or comfort them. He looked around intently, studying each face, and committing them to memory. They had served and died in his name, and they would be remembered.
Then he saw Kats, and his composure shattered.
He strode through the room, stepping over or around the bodies on the floor. As she heard his approach she turned and sighed softly, bowing her head.
For his part, Sinoval was shocked. She was covered in scratches and marks and bruises, and her simple smock was heavily stained with blood. He had known veteran warriors who would have collapsed with fewer injuries, and yet she was still on her feet, working.
"My lord," she said, softly.
"My lady," he replied, numbly. "Why have your wounds not been tended to?"
"There are others here with more serious injuries than mine. I tend to them first."
"You will be no use to them if you pass out here. Rest, my lady. That is an order."
She lifted her head, eyes blazing. "You are a warrior, my lord. You kill! I am a worker, and so I build! Allow me to build here."
For a moment he was taken aback. "My lady…." he said softly. "Speak to me…."
"Kozorr is dead," she whispered, and he closed his eyes. He had known it. He had known somehow, back when the warrior had first given his vow of fealty. "He died, in my stead."
Sinoval nodded, unable to think of words to say. Kats turned from him to resume her work. He spun on his heel and stalked from the room.
There would be a reckoning. Some day soon, there would be a reckoning.
* * *
"I…. I am…. dying now…."
Londo looked down at the ashen face of one of his oldest friends, and tried to think of the words. He was feeling very light-headed, almost giddy with the day's events. He had not yet had time to eat, and Timov would be furious if she were here.
"Hush, Malachi. You will make a fine recovery."
"Bad…. liar, Londo. Never a good trait in a politician…. but a…. welcome one in…. you…." Malachi winced, and tried to sit up. "Much to tell you…. Doctors…. have…. given me…. drugs to…. dull the pain. But they…. make me…. sleepy."
"Then you should rest. You will need to recover your strength."
"Why? For my execution? No…. Londo. Better…. I die here. You…. more than anyone…. you were right for this task. I tried…. to spare you…. this…." He coughed, and reached out with a trembling hand for the beaker at his side. Londo helped steady the dying man's hand and guided it to his mouth. Malachi drank deeply, and spluttered.
"Foul stuff," he rasped, his voice a little stronger now. "Why…. must all medicine taste so awful, Londo?"
"One of life's great mysteries," came the reply.
"Ah…. well. I will have to wonder. Londo…. it was a custom, a long time ago, for leaders to record their thoughts and advice on their death. A chance…. for their wisdom never to die. It has not been used much…. recently. Too many would not want this…. advice…. or would try to exploit it for their own purposes. We have fallen far, Londo. Very far."
"We will return, Malachi. You will be there at my side all the way."
"Deluded…. Londo. No, let me explain. This is…. my deathbed confession, I suppose. I've done a lot that I have not been proud of. I only wish history could remember the good…. as well as the bad."
"History will. I…. I will see to that."
"Thank you…. My…. confession. I ordered the murder of Emperor Refa, and arranged for you to be framed. I sent guards to kill you, although I…. hoped they would not succeed. I only wanted to frighten you, Londo. I wanted you…. gone. Somewhere safe. With G'Kar…. perhaps. Fighting a greater war than ours."
"You…. know about G'Kar?"
"I know a great deal. After Turhan died, I left here. I…. I wanted to retire somewhere, live out my remaining days in peace. It…. was not to be. I was sent a message by Lady Morella the night after my retirement. She…. gave me a…. vision. One I had to heed. I…. I would change our people, fulfill the destiny I always wanted. So…. I faked my suicide, and disappeared. I travelled throughout our Republic in disguise…. learning and…. seeing all the things I had missed for so many years." He began to cough again, and wiped his mouth awkwardly with a cloth.
"Londo…. do you know who my father was?"
"I…." He hesitated. "Yes…. I…. give me a moment…. Lord Revil…. Yes…. that was it…. Oh…. no, I remember…. You…."
"I…. was adopted…. yes. My true father was a carpenter in a village on Immolan Five. I was…. adopted by Lord Revil after his death, at Turhan's request."
Londo was stunned. He had known none of this. "I…. why? How did this happen?"
"Ah…. I'm jumping around. Forgive me, Londo. The dying ramblings of an old man. Turhan and his father visited Immolan Five when he was a child, as was I. The procession passed through our village, and…. assassins tried to kill Turhan that night. My father shouted a warning…. and saved his life. The Emperor offered my father any reward…. and he asked…. he asked for a better life for his son. The Emperor promised to have me adopted by a noble of the Court.
"He then carried on his way, and forgot all about it. My father was beaten to death by some of the Royal Guard a few weeks afterwards. Turhan…. he reminded his father of his promise, and I was…. adopted by Lord Revil, and placed close to the Court. My prior identity was destroyed, wiped from existence. I was a new noble of the Court, not a carpenter's son.
"Do you know what life is like for the lower classes, Londo? Of course not…. how could you? You were born to the purple. That was why I….
"Oh…. sorry. Jumping around again. Turhan promised social reform, but…. he tried…. He was truly a good man. He tried to reform, lower taxes, erase local corruption…. but he failed. The entire nobility, a fraction of our people, survive by the hard work and slavery of so many…. and no one cares. Turhan failed…. but he tried. It was more than his son would do…. More than the rest of you would do. You were all born to the purple.
"That was all I wanted. The lower classes…. the farmers and artisans and leather workers and…. all of them…. they can rule themselves. They're not…. puppets for our courtly games. They're not slaves or servants for our pleasure. They're us, Londo. We could not see that. The Court…. could not see that.
"You've lived in the Court all your life. You know what our nobility has become. Weak and indecisive, like Jarno. Paranoid and nostalgic, like Kiro…. Monsters, like Cartagia. We are not fit to rule any longer. I…. all I wished to do was show the Court that. I would turn all their games upon themselves…. bind them into corners…. and all the while…. the rest of the Republic would work on…. alone, and content. They would have peace…. and eventually…. even freedom.
"I tried…. Londo. I…. I caused a lot of pain, and a great…. many deaths. I set Valo off on his course, I'm sorry – but I had nothing to do with Cartagia…. or with Marrago's betrayal. I had no idea the Narns would attack so fast. I…. I thought they would be more cautious. I…. I'm sorry…. Londo. I….
"I…. I can't…. keep…. awake."
Londo stood back, silent in horror. "No one will know," he said at last. "No one will know, my friend. I…. I'll finish your work. I'll reform our Republic. I'll make it mean something. I'll make it all mean something. For all of us. Malachi…. Malachi!"
There was a gentle pressure on his arm and he turned, blinking past his tears, to see Marrago standing there. "He will not wake up again, Majesty. He took a fatal dose. He…. he knew what he was doing."
"He was my friend, Marrago! Whatever he did, he was my friend!"
"I…. I did not hear his last words, Majesty," Marrago said, lying smoothly. "I am sure he will be remembered with all the honour and glory he deserves."
"He…. was my friend."
"He was a great man."
"So…. is that it, Marrago? Is it all over now? Did…. did all this bloodshed have some sort of meaning?"
"It is never over. Elrisia is still free, and there is the matter of what to do with Jarno. Lord Kiro is threatening a dire revenge…. once he recovers sufficiently. The Shadow Criers are still a threat, of course. And…. there are always the Narns."
"So…. did we accomplish anything by this?"
"Of course we did. The Court is united and pacified. We have saved the Republic from Hell, Majesty…. now we will help her to Heaven. The restoration will begin here…. it has to begin somewhere, after all."
"So…. what now?"
"Now…. Now there are a great many people who wish to speak to their Emperor."
* * *
Valen stiffened. He began to say something, but then he realised he did not know what to say. He had felt it, somehow. He had known. He had tried to warn her…. but….
He had known. Somehow he had always known.
In all his memories of the past yet to come, Catherine had been in none of them.
"No," he whispered. "She is not gone. I will remember her…. I…. will…. find her again."
The Vorlon gave a look that might have been quizzical.
"I…. don't understand."
Now, he did understand.
The Shadows were gathering. They had Sheridan. Delenn was wavering. Ta'Lon was fighting a desperate holding action. Outside, the rift was collapsing. People were dying.
"I am ready," he said simply. "I am Valen now, aren't I? Completely and utterly."
"
Zathras moved up beside him. "You are wrong. Valen is wrong. Sinclair is wrong. You are not Valen. No.
"So…. what now?"
"Problems outside. Problems inside also, but bigger ones outside. Rift is…. collapsing. Will not hold much longer. Zathras is afraid something has happened to Great Machine, but nothing Zathras can do about that now. We must free Captain Sheridan…. send him and Delenn back to their ship, and…. must do one other thing. Then…. we get back in time quickly."
"Do we have time?"
"There is always time…. but Zathras understand you, yes. We have time…. if the rift can be kept open long enough. Zathras…. cannot do that, but Zathras knows Vorlon who can."
"Kosh." The Vorlon turned. "You can keep the rift open?"
But Valen understood just how.
"Life energy," said Zathras sadly. "Powerful thing…. if used properly. If used by one who knows how."
