Текст книги "Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.(ЛП)"

Автор книги: Гарэт Д. Уильямс

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Текущая страница: 33 (всего у книги 78 страниц)

"It must have been breathtaking," he said, gesturing across the lake.

"It was," she replied, sitting beside him. "My father brought me here when I was young. He believed all the beauties of our people were embodied in every single drop of water."

"And it now symbolises the destruction of your world."

Her hand brushed his and she looked at him sharply. "You are not to blame," she said, firmly. "We have talked about it. Your world is an airless ball of rock. Ours still lives, and you work hard every day to make it live a little more. I have forgiven you for whatever sins you think you may have committed against me, but you will have to forgive yourself, and you are doing that, a little more every day."

He nodded. "There aren't any dreams any more. At least, not many."

"That is good. Can you accept what your past has brought you? Mary, Carolyn, Susan, John Sheridan – can you think about all those names now and feel no guilt?"

"A little, but that is all. Is it so wrong, anyway, to be bound by the past?"

"Wrong?" Her hand slid from his and gently brushed her necklace. "No, it is not wrong, but we must remember the good things and learn from the bad and then.... Ah, but I am lecturing you, and poorly as well. In truth, I came here to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"I have been asked by the rest of the Grey Council to visit Babylon Five soon. They would like one of us to observe things there, at the heart of the Alliance. It is time for us to look outwards again, now that we have repaired much of the damage that was within. We will need a permanent voice in the Alliance Council, and it will be good to speak with the other races in the Alliance. We have been isolated since the war ended, bound up with repairing and undoing. it is.... not good to be too isolated.

"Would you come with me?"

"What?" He started, having been momentarily lost in the melody of her voice. "I.... I am happy here."

"I do not doubt it, but you do not belong here. I do not mean in that you are an alien, but that you are not a man destined to spend the rest of his days farming or building. You are meant for more than that."

"I've seen more than that, Satai. I've seen great things. I've been at the summit of the galaxy, and do you know what happens up there? Everyone dies. At the top all you can see is chess pieces. You move them around and you sacrifice a city here and a world there, all for the greater good, and you don't see who these people are, or what that city meant to them."

"I know. You are talking to a leader, remember. But the important thing, the vital thing, is that every leader remembers that. There can be no harm in someone like yourself standing in the ?chelons of power, someone who knows what it is to be.... at the bottom."

"I don't want to go back."

"I know, and I will not force you. I am not talking about anything permanent, either. I cannot stay on Babylon Five forever. I have too many duties here. A visit, only.

"It is just that.... I have a feeling that you belong somewhere, and we are keeping you away from it. We are depriving the galaxy of the good you could do on a larger scale, by keeping you here, doing good on a small scale."

"I choose to be here."

"And yet, we do not try to persuade you to go. Think about what I am saying, that is all I can ask. My husband stood where you are now. Once he wielded power, and stood at the right hand of those in power, but he was never happier than where you are now.

"I never told him this, but I wished he had chosen differently. He was a man who could have done so much more than he did. I kept promising myself that I would talk to him later, that I would allow him a time of peace for now and return him to power later, but.... I would not have the galaxy deprived of your potential as it was deprived of his."

"Your husband must have been a great man."

She smiled slightly. "Yes. Yes, he was."

"I'll think about it. Is that all right?"

Her smile grew wider. "That is all I can ask."

* * *

"I have been.... thinking a lot.... I think you have blinded me, Da'Kal.

"You took my eye from me in a gesture of anger and fury, and yet....

"I think I see far better now than ever before.

"Thank you for that, Da'Kal."

Da'Kal shifted in the corner of the room. "Are you talking to me?" she asked. "Or yourself?"

G'Kar strained his head to look up. Everything was blurred and shifting, a melting sculpture of ice and colour. "I do not know," he whispered. "Perhaps both. Is that truly you, or merely another image from my past?"

"Our satellites have seen something approaching," she said flatly. "Our hyperspace beacons have been destroyed, but the last images they sent.... It is massive, a shadow across the stars. There is a fleet, but it is accompanying something far bigger."

"They come.... as I said they would."

"Our off-world communications have been disabled. On-world, power is starting to fail. People are growing scared. They run outside, looking up at the sky, looking for the Centauri.

"I promised myself that my people would never have to be afraid of the skies ever again. You have made me a liar, G'Kar."

"You have.... brought this upon yourself, Da'Kal. Upon all the innocents who will die. The Inquisitors cannot be reasoned with, or bargained with, or bribed."

"G'Kar, listen to me! I know about the Inquisitors. I have seen them moving on Centauri Prime, and the Drazi worlds and elsewhere. These are not the Inquisitors."

G'Kar looked at her, straining his vision. At first she was merely an outline, but then she grew clearer, more distinct, more.... alive.

"Help me, Da'Kal."

"G'Kar, you...."

"I am Narn! This is my home. These are my people. I hate what we have become, what you have made us, but I will not stand by and let us fall. Help me up, Da'Kal."

"Then you will fight them?"

"I will...." He hesitated, remembering a younger man, a man who had screamed defiance at the heavens, a man who had sworn that he would walk where he wished and live as he desired.

"I will do what must be done."

She smiled. "Now there is the man I loved. Take my hand."

He did. Her skin was very warm to his touch.

* * *

"You are the lost. You are the abandoned. You are the angry and the resentful. You think this creation owes you more than you have been granted.

"You do not know what you want, but you do know that whatever it is you want, it is not what you have now.

"You call yourself the Brotherhood Without Banners. You are a force of chaos, a union bound by self-interest and self-protection.

"The fact is, you want banners. You need banners. You need a lord to serve and you walk the path you have chosen because you do not have a worthy lord. For some of you that lord would be a real person, for others an ideal. Some of you found a lord only to lose it, slipping like dust between your fingers, a memory into the wind.

"You know who I am. You know what they call me. I shake the foundations of Heaven with my footsteps. There will be a war, a great and terrible war for the destiny of the galaxy and all who live in it. So far, you have all been unwitting pawns in this game.

"I offer you the chance of something more.

"I offer you a lord. I offer you purpose. I offer you the chance to serve me.

"I offer you a war.

"You are killers and raiders and rapists and torturers. You will find no sanctuary anywhere but amongst your own kind. The forces of Order will seek you out and destroy you, for you are everything they hate.

"Understand me. You will die if you try to fight alone. You may die if you try to fight beside me, but you will die fighting for a real cause, beneath a banner you can respect.

"I will speak with each of you in turn. Any who wish to reject me may do so. You will be permitted to leave. I will not stop you, but as I said before....

"The Alliance will find you, and they will destroy you. They will weigh you down with chains of order and they will claim all that you are. They will destroy all that you are, leaving nothing but bones and ashes and the occasional nightmare of what you once had.

"The choice is yours. You believe in freedom. You worship freedom.

"Enjoy that choice, for it is the last taste of freedom any of you will ever have."

* * *

"Who am I?"

No one seemed to recognise him, and he supposed he should not be surprised. He was not General John Sheridan, Shadowkiller, today. He was just a man, taking a holiday.

Or a sort of holiday.

"Who am I?" he asked himself again. It was a question that had been bothering him for a long time. Sinoval had simply managed to bring it into focus. Sinoval had forced him to confront it.

Sinoval. Now there was another problem that would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. He could not be allowed to go running around the galaxy doing whatever he wanted. Sheridan had not heard much of what had happened at Centauri Prime, but what he had heard worried him. If....

No. Galaxy-shattering problems later. Personal problems today.

He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on the armrest. The seat was not terribly comfortable, but then he was not expecting anything better. He supposed he might be able to sleep on the journey. He was actually looking forward to sleep without dreams.

Although he would miss Delenn's warm breath on his shoulder. Until he had slept alone in the Medlab he hadn't realised how much he missed the little things about being with her. They had been apart more often than together during their eventful relationship, but since the end of the war they had spent almost every night together. It was uncomfortable, being without her.

It was painful, being without her.

They had not made love in almost six months. They had hardly kissed properly – not as lovers, not even as people in love. Something dark and cold had come between them.

Was it just the war? Too many bad memories and bad dreams? A child dead, a world destroyed, friends scattered and broken, one compromise too many in the name of a greater good?

Or something else?

The Vorlons had used him, controlled and manipulated and propelled him in the direction they wanted. He might not have minded. They were order, after all, and the galaxy needed order. The Alliance was a noble aim and the Vorlons provided enough power and backing to hold it together until it was strong enough to manage on its own.

But if what Sinoval had said was true, they had manipulated him to leave Delenn to die on Z'ha'dum. If they had done that – and he was growing more and more sceptical of what Sinoval had told him – but if it was true, then no force on Heaven or Earth would keep them safe from his wrath.

It was ironic. He would go to war against a race of Gods, not for the freedom and sanctity of the galaxy, but to avenge a wrong against the woman he loved.

If he still loved her.

If he had ever loved her.

No, he had. Once, he had. He was sure of that. He was not sure if he had ever stopped, or when.

He sighed. At least Sinoval was fighting for what he perceived to be the greater good, even if there was more than just a hint of personal motive in there. What did that say about him personally?

"Who am I?"

There was no other passenger at his side. In fact, the shuttle was only half-full. That was just as well. He did not want anyone to recognise him, and wonder why the General in command of the Alliance fleet was going mad.

If he was going mad.

If he had ever been sane.

"Not who I want to be," he said firmly.

"Or perhaps, whoever I want to be."

He continued drumming his fingers on the armrest, waiting for the shuttle to depart for Minbar.

* * *

The Death of Worlds emerged from hyperspace, escorted by the Vorlon fleet. No one had ever seen such a planet killer before. The Vorlons had hidden a great deal from their servants.

The Vorlons reveal only what they choose to reveal. It was time for them to show the hammer of heaven, the hammer of the light.

You shall have no truck with the Shadow. Those who do shall suffer the cleansing fires. The fire of the Inquisition. The fire of the Network.

The fire of the Death of Worlds.

The Lords of Light cast a great shadow over Narn.

Chapter 2

The existence of terrible weapons of war capable of destroying planets had long been suspected by several of the younger races. Some of the peoples with race memories or historical records of the last Great War speak of them. Markab holy tracts speak of wrath from the heavens that shattered the worlds of the sinful. The Book of G'Quan contains a passage describing a 'Dark Oracle' – obviously either a Shadow itself or, more likely, a Shadow vassal race, possibly a Drakh magus – threatening the doom of the Narn world with black spears from the sky.

There are also several asteroid fields which are believed to be planets destroyed by some catastrophe, although many of these rumours can be discounted. Long-time associate of the Blessed Delenn through his efforts in helping to supply the nascent Kazomi 7, Captain Jack, claimed to have encountered no less than four such destroyed worlds. His claims are usually treated with scepticism, but he was responsible for one of the first sightings of First One ships, early in the year 2262.?

Insofar as any of these stories were believed, it was thought to apply to the Shadows only. The terrifying sight of their Black Cloud rising above Kazomi 7 towards the end of the first phase of the War confirmed the existence of such planet-killing weapons, and no one who saw that battle doubted that the weapon was capable of destroying Kazomi 7.

There were other forces whose powers were more or less acknowledged to be of similar magnitude – The Great Machine, for one. We are indebted to L'Neer of Narn for providing a great deal of information on the capabilities of that artefact, information gleaned from her conversations with Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar.? And, of course, Cathedral....

But no sign of any equivalent Vorlon weapon was ever positively identified. They refused to answer any questions put to them on the subject. Their level of technology was roughly on a par with the Shadows of course, and of the creators of the Great Machine, so it was virtually certain that they possessed the technology to build such weapons, even if they did not actually have the weapons themselves.

But, others argued, if they had the weapons, or even the technology, why had they not employed them on Z'ha'dum, during the thousand years in which the world was deserted? There was no convincing answer for that.

In the middle of 2263 all the questions were answered, although not in a way that anyone would have wanted. It was the second sign of the end of the peace, and the beginning of the month that would later be called the Death of Hope.

The planet killer revealed itself above Narn, ready to inflict punishment for the Kha'Ri's sheltering of some of the exiled Shadow vassal races. It was felt by the Vorlons that an object lesson was needed.

They considered the use of a planet killer to be a lesson.

? GOLDINGAY, D. G. (2293) Stalkers on the Rim. Chapter 4 of The Rise and Fall

of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and the Beginning of the

Third, vol. 3, 2262: The Missing Year. Ed: S. Barringer, G. Boshears, A. E.

Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.

? See also Learning at the Prophet's Feet, by L'Neer of Narn.

MATEER, K. (2295) The Second Sign of the Apocalypse. Chapter 9 of The Rise

and Fall of the United Alliance, the End of the Second Age and the

Beginning of the Third, vol. 4, The Dreaming Years. Ed: S. Barringer,

G. Boshears, A. E. Clements, D. G. Goldingay & M. G. Kerr.

* * *

To the Narn.

We are your Masters. We are your saviours and your protectors. We are your lawgivers and your enforcers and your judges.

We are you executioners.

You have broken our law. You have had dealings with the Shadow. Their creatures roam your world, sheltered by your leaders, their skills utilised for your petty concerns of power. You have broken our law and you have betrayed those who stand beside you.

You have been judged, and you will be punished.

You have one rotation of your world. Those who are untainted by the Shadow will be permitted to leave, so long as they carry no weapons, and harbour no thoughts against us. Your leaders will not be permitted to leave, nor will those who have sheltered or were aware of the vassals of the Shadow.

One rotation of your world only.

When that is done, your world will die, in fire and ash and rock. You will be consigned to wander the galaxy, a rootless and uprooted people, so that all who look upon you will know the penalty for defying our law.

We are your masters. You will obey us.

If any try to leave who are tainted, or complicit, or seek to oppose us, all will die. We will seek out your entire race and erase you from history. If only the innocent leave, then you will be permitted to endure.

Behold our mercy.

Do not try to fight us, or all will die. Do not try to oppose us, or all will die. Accept our judgement and our justice and our mercy.

We are your masters.

You will obey us.

You have one rotation of your world.

* * *

Once he had been one of the most respected nobles in the Centauri Republic, the Lord-General of their armies and their fleets. His name was feared by his enemies and respected by those who followed him. He was fair, but icily efficient and determined. He was a man who well understood the value of inspiring fear in the hearts of those who opposed him, and he possessed a necessary ruthlessness.

Now he was a broken man, harsh with the pain of his own tears, seeing ghosts in every movement. His crew had fought this battle without him. He had been trying to restore a young girl who had taken her own life. A girl he had struck in a single moment of madness and anger.

His head in his hands, Jorah Marrago did not see Sinoval, Primarch Majestus et Conclavus, enter the room.

"My friend," he said softly.

Marrago looked up. Through eyes scarred by pain and horror, he saw the tall, dark form of his ally. Sinoval's deep eyes seemed to radiate compassion, an odd emotion for him to display. Marrago was not even sure if he was real.

"You cannot bring her back, can you?" he whispered.

"No," Sinoval said sadly. "Her soul has passed beyond. A.... residue remains here, in the place where she died. You could talk to her if you wished, but all that remains is her fear and her anger, and I do not think you would want to listen to what she had to say."

"I was not talking about Senna," he rasped, harshly. "Did we win? Tell me we won."

"That depends who 'we' are. Centauri Prime is as safe as it was yesterday, which is to say, not very safe at all. Those of the Brotherhood who survived fled here with me. A safe haven I spent some time finding. I will have to talk with the leaders, find those who wish to fight alongside me, find those who do not deserve to continue. I would appreciate your advice in this, my friend, but I will understand if you are.... incapable of that at present."

"What about the plan?"

"I had to move more swiftly than I would have preferred. I fear that too many of my plans are now in the possession of the enemy. My little castle of wood and paper is in great danger of collapsing around me, and I must be ready as swiftly as I can. I feel....

"Sometimes, recently, I think I can feel a great darkness, as if millions of voices are crying out in fear, all at the same time."

"I feel like that all the time."

Sinoval nodded. "I see. I am sorry for your loss."

"No, you aren't, and why should you be? You never knew Senna, you never knew a thing about her, or Lyndisty. I was a leader once too, remember. You cannot think about those you are sending into battle, or those they love, or those they depend on. Think of each soldier as a real person and you are doomed from the outset.

"I know that, and yet.... I cannot think of anything else. Senna was just another victim of this war. She ended her life in pain and fear. She knew rape and torture and complete powerlessness until it came to be that her only freedom was the freedom to end it all.

"I should not care. I should just move on, channel any grief I have into revenge and pour it against my enemies, but I can't. I simply can't forget her."

"Nor should you." Marrago looked up. Sinoval's face was as stone. "That is my task. I will talk to the captains of the Brotherhood. I will learn those whom I can trust or intimidate – those who will serve me."

"None of them. Kill them all. Kill all of us. We are all monsters."

"My friend.... that is precisely what I need. Do you.... do you want to leave my side? I can take you almost anywhere in the galaxy. You have done enough already. You have paid enough already. You can depart now, and I will not think any the less of you."

"My price?"

"I know. I have known for months. One of my agents died to retrieve the information you requested. Worse than died, in fact. But I have the knowledge. I kept it from you for fear you would embark on a private crusade rather than pursue my own goals. Do you hate me for lying to you?"

"No. I should, but.... I can't feel anything."

"Morden. The name you asked of me is Morden."

"He killed Lyndisty."

"Yes."

"What good will it do? His death will not restore her life. Is there anything I can do that will.... that will alleviate this?"

"I do not know. I have never known grief such as yours. I do not even know if I am capable of it. I would like to think I would do what must be done, but I cannot be certain. None of us can."

"I need to think. I.... I need to think."

"Take all the time you require."

"Wait!"

"Yes."

"The Shadow alien. The Z'shailyl. Moreil, his name is."

"Yes."

"Don't trust him. Not even for a second. Him least of all."

"Thank you. I won't."

"You are welcome."

* * *

It was just beginning to get dark when Sheridan began his walk through Yedor. His journey had been long and restless. He had tried to sleep, but he had managed only a few moments. He should be tired, but all he could think of was the purpose of his journey. He had to carry on now and finish what he had begun.

The night sky was a blazing red as the sun set. The dust in the air clouded everything, but it seemed to glow and shine. He was not sure if it was beautiful or terrible, but perhaps it was both.

The rebuilding of Yedor was continuing well. The architects seemed to be restoring the old where they could and creating the new where they were inspired. The Temple of Varenni dominated the glowing skyline, tall and majestic and.... somehow impervious to the atrocities of mortals. He was reminded of an old photograph from the Second World War, of London being relentlessly bombed and the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral rising above the smoke and the flames.

What was that speech? Something about, "If they destroy it, then we will rebuild it. And if they destroy it again, then we will rebuild it again, as many times as is necessary."

Something like that. The sentiment was there.

He walked on, noticing others moving about in the cool of the evening. Most were Minbari of course, but there were a surprising number of aliens present as well. Some Drazi, their normally furious faces a little calmer here. Some Narns, proudly wearing sunburst badges. Even a few humans, walking quickly, heads bowed.

He was not sure where he was going. David was here somewhere, helping to rebuild. He would probably be where the largest construction site was, unless they had finished work for the day, in which case he could be anywhere. Sheridan was content to drift and trust to fate to shepherd him in the right direction.

He had a feeling he was walking away from the centre of the city when he came across a Minbari woman sitting on a large rock, watching the sky with a contented air. She was small and slightly built, wearing a plain robe stained by dust and labour. There was a strange look in her eyes, a look of understanding. Sheridan remembered meeting the Dalai Lama, decades ago, millennia ago. He had had that same look. The look of a person who knows where he or she belongs in the galaxy.

He was about to move on past her when she looked squarely at him. "A good evening, General Sheridan," she said formally.

He started. "Who? I...."

She smiled. "Please. We have been aware for some time that you would be visiting. You have been noticed and recognised at least a dozen times on your walk. You are not exactly an unfamiliar figure here."

"I haven't been here in three years," he protested. "How did you know...? Did Delenn tell you I was coming?"

"We have eyes and ears in a great many places. Delenn had no need to tell us anything. My name is Kats."

Sheridan paused, thinking. He knew that name. He had a nagging feeling he had seen her before too, although here had been more concern in her face then. That had been.... during the Rebirth Ceremony. She had been with Sinoval. She was Satai now. That was it.

"I've seen you before," he said.

"Ah, you do remember. I suppose I should feel flattered. For my part, I remember you as well. You look.... different from the last time. More careworn, but a little more understanding."

"Yes, I've.... learned a lot since then. I've had a lot of things to think about."

"Have not we all?"

"I suppose you know why I'm here."

"It is not hard to guess." She rose nimbly, and gestured along the road. It led to a small hill, rising gracefully to the horizon. "He is this way."

"Does he.... David.... Does he know I'm here?"

"No. Or at least, I did not tell him. I think you two have a great deal to talk about, and I did not wish to pre-empt any of that conversation."

"I'm not even sure I know how to begin."

"He is a good man, and a friend." They began to walk, Sheridan matching his stride to her shorter pace. "It is strange to think of a human that way, but it is true. He looked so lost when I first saw him, wounded and.... almost broken. He has had over a year to mend himself, and I think he is ready. The galaxy needs him more than we do, something I have been trying to convince him of. Perhaps you can do that."

"I'm not here to convince him of anything. I just.... need to talk to him, that's all."

She smiled. "Then that will have to be enough. See, there he is."

There was a tree at the top of the hill, a small thing, but green against the brown of the earth. A tiny spark of life. A figure was sitting in its shadow, staring down at the lake below.

Kats stopped. "I will leave you now. What you have to say should be said alone."

Sheridan nodded. "Thank you, Satai."

"There is no need."

He nodded again and walked on. Engrossed in the vision before him, David did not seem to notice him at all. Now that Sheridan was nearer, he could see that the lake was heavy with silt and mud. Once there had been teeming life and great beauty there, but now it was smothered and destroyed.

"David?" he said, almost too quietly even to hear himself. He coughed. "David," he said more loudly.

He turned. David looked at him.

"John," he said. "You know, I'm not the least bit surprised. Sooner or later, everyone comes to Minbar."

* * *

In the halls of the rulers of Narn, there was fear and anger and disbelief.

There was also a lot of noise.

"Let them try! We will fight!"

".... must tell them they are wrong...."

".... a message to the people, tell them all is well...."

".... a joke, a sick joke...."

".... satellite reports...."

".... explain that we are innocent...."

".... fight them."

".... the Centauri...."

Countless voices shouting at each other without sense or meaning, simply giving voice to emotion. They were the leaders of the Narn people. They lived a life of fear and paranoia. They had grown up in a world occupied by the Centauri, when everyone knew their lives hung on the whims of utterly remorseless and implacable aliens. They had sworn never to experience such helplessness again, and that vow had given birth to terrible anger and even more terrible fear. They had tried to build beauty and hope, and darkness and corruption had been the result.

All that now remained was the fear.

These were new aliens. The Narn had become stronger since they had driven out the Centauri, but they had become weaker as well, and now they were all feeling that weakness.

Apart from one.

"Silence!"

Everyone stopped, and turned. It was a Narn voice, one strong and filled with power, one used to command.

Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar walked hesitantly into the room, blinking occasionally against the light. Beside him, supporting his faltering steps, stood Da'Kal. To more than one pair of eyes they appeared as they had all those years ago, the magnificent warrior and his beautiful queen.

G'Kar's footsteps were hard and heavy, and blood covered his tunic. The side of his face was matted with his own blood, and there were deep furrows of raw flesh where his eye had once been.

Still, he commanded them by his very presence. Each of them knew they would have let this man rule if only he had wanted to. They remembered the way he had spoken to them the last time he had been here, when he had forced the peace with the Centauri. Here was one whose voice could shake the foundations of the planet.

He walked up to the podium, Da'Kal still helping him. Once there, she stepped back. He was standing tall and majestic, his wounds forgotten.

"We will not fight them," he whispered. He coughed, blood filling his mouth, and then repeated himself, louder and more certain. "We will not fight them.

"They are too strong and too powerful. We will not negotiate. They would not listen. This is not a joke, not a lie, not an illusion. This is reality.

"We have become dark and corrupt. We have been consumed by vengeance until that is all we can see. I tried to teach you...." His voice fell, despairing. "I tried to teach you," he said again, more quietly. "But the truth is that I blame myself for this as much as I blame any of you. I should have seen this more clearly. I wanted to believe we were what I wanted us to be and I could not imagine it any other way.

"I was tired, so very tired, and it was so easy to let the wrongness creep into all our lives. So much easier to let it happen than to fight it, and I did not try to stop what we were becoming.