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

Was it worth it? Would it truly be worth asking the Shadows for their cure? She had thought not. She and John had spoken of it once, and he had said he would not enslave himself to them for any cure. She had agreed, but that had been long ago, before the battle.

What if there could be peace? Was the Ambassador genuine? Could she…. ask…. him…?

She sighed, and tried to clear her head. The virus was not yet contagious, at least not according to the physicians here. They had managed to trace its progress to some extent and had constructed a hypothesis as to its effects, but they were a long, long way from a cure. All they could say for certain was that John would have to be placed in strict quarantine within two weeks at most.

And not long after that, he would be dead.

He moaned slightly, and she thought she could see his eyes flicker open. They looked…. so bloodshot.

"Delenn," he whispered. "Are…. are you there?"

"Yes," she replied softly. "Yes, I'm here." She was holding his hand, but she knew he could not feel it. "How…. how are you?"

"I was dreaming. I…. don't remember what about. It…. wasn't…. a nice…. dream though."

"You should sleep," she whispered.

"Sleep? Why? It's not as if I'm exerting myself here. I'm kept alive by machines, and…. medicines and I'm just waiting to die."

"John, you shouldn't…. talk like this."

"Why not?" He sounded angry. "Why not, Delenn? Why are you…. still here? What…. use is there tying yourself to a…. dead man."

"I am here because I love you," she said softly. "I will never leave you, John. Never."

"I…. I know. I'm sorry. I just…. are you holding my hand?"

"Yes."

"How is…. David? I haven't seen him…. in…. a while."

She hesitated, trying to think of what to say. Commander Corwin had been to see him only that morning. "He's…. on a scouting patrol," she lied. "He's still breaking in the Babylon." He was on board the Babylon, that was true. He rarely left it these days. Corwin too had been looking almost haunted recently.

"My ship," John said, almost proudly. "Not…. my ship any more. They…. changed it…. did…. things…. to it…. Gave it to someone else…."

"It wasn't altered as much as you thought," she said, hoping that would comfort him. Compared to some of the other human ships they had fought, the Babylon had contained remarkably little Shadow technology. "It was just…." How had Commander Corwin put it? "It was just beefed up a little. Improved hull integrity, navigation, weapons…." She had told John this before. Several times.

"My ship," he said, his voice growing quieter. "My…. ship…." His eyes closed. "Love you…. Anna," he whispered, as he fell asleep.

Delenn did not cry. She wanted to, but she could not. She had no more tears left.

Speeches. He had made so many, to so many different people. They were all much the same really. Empty promises, pledges and assurances that he knew he would not be able to meet, hollow guarantees and offers of friendship. All the while people back home would be preparing their own actions, completely indifferent to every word he was saying.

The situation here was a little different, but the speech was largely the same.

"We do not wish further violence between our peoples," he said, addressing the Inner Council of the United Alliance, and making sure to study each figure in turn. "The tragedy of the altercation at Epsilon Three only shows the true horror that can arise from such a conflict."

They were listening, some more patiently than others. Minister Lethke was most attentive, and the Narn Ambassador G'Kael seemed quite interested. The two Drazi frequently snorted and tutted under their breath, but they made no interruptions.

And as for their leader, the blessed Delenn…. Ambassador David Sheridan had no idea what she was doing, for he was not looking at her at all. Not even a glance.

"We must not let zealots on either side blind us to the possibilities of a strong, working peace. The race you call the Shadows, and that I call friends, have much to offer you all. They have helped humanity return to security, they have helped protect the borders of humanity's space, and have provided technology far in advance of anything else currently available.

"The 'Shadows' wish only to help the other races, and live in peace and understanding with them. Their actions have been purely defensive on all occasions, aimed at countering threats to their welfare by others. All you have heard about them are half-truths and misconceptions, spread by their enemies. Spread by ignorance.

"They will be happy to show such people as Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar, his…. Rangers, and even Primarch Sinoval the error they have been labouring under." G'Kael started briefly at mention of G'Kar's name, but he said nothing. "Any or all of you are welcome to come to the Shadows' homeworld of Z'ha'dum, or if you would prefer, to Proxima Three. They wish only peace…. and a better understanding between us all."

He would not be believed of course, not with both Delenn and G'Kar here. The Narn might be possible to circumvent, but it would be difficult; he had been surrounded by Vorlons for too long. And as for Delenn…. Well, with her there were a thousand years of Vorlon indoctrination to get through, and that was simply not going to happen. But he had another trump card to play with her.

"We wish only peace," he repeated. "They wish only…. to help."

He does not respect you.

She does not love you.

I will make you stronger. I will make you better than him. I will make her love you.

Kozorr sat alone in his cell, thinking. He was alone, but by his own request. He was also, as strange as it may sound, not a prisoner, save by his own will.

All the time he had been here he had been sparring with Sonovar, each of them testing their skill with the denn'bok, unarmed, and with other weapons. They were evenly matched, despite Kozorr's injuries. Neither had been able to kill the other.

"Imagine you were not injured so," Sonovar had said. "What could you accomplish then? More even than Sinoval, perhaps."

He thought of Kats, and wondered ever so tentatively where she was, and what she was doing now. She would be with him, the Primarch, the greatest warrior of this generation, and perhaps of any other.

He had told her at last that he loved her. He had been prepared to give his life for her.

Would Sinoval have done as much?

She will never love you.

Sonovar had said so. He could be lying. He had lied about a great many things, but Minbari did not lie. Did Kats love him? Could she truly love him?

Could she, with Sinoval there? Knowing that the Primarch was greater than him?

She will never love you, not while she is with him. I can help you become greater than him.

He rose to his feet, moving awkwardly. The injuries to his leg seemed more crippling than ever. He raised his arms wide and roared in defiance. He did not know what to do, or what to think.

She will never love you.

"She will love me," he roared. "She…. will."

This, more than anything, he did not want to do. Bad enough his duty had brought him to this pathetic planet in the first place, but to be placed here, in this position, to confront his greatest failure….

David Sheridan had thought about his son continually for sixteen years, ever since the war had started. He had not seen him for over thirteen of those years, and now he would see him again, fully paid for all the wrong choices he had made.

He did not want to, but ties of blood were greater by far than ties of water. He had one last duty to perform for his son.

The guards did not see him. The doctors did not see him either. It was late at night. Delenn was not here. He had chosen his time carefully.

He was not truly certain who to blame. John had made his own decisions, and the choice to betray his people and his wife had been one of those. He was a man now, and had been so for many years. He had a right to make those decisions.

But it was a father's duty to tell his son where he had gone wrong.

But then…. how much of this had been Delenn's doing? John had been loyal and true before he had met her. He could not decide. There was another fate in store for Delenn, a fate that should serve as a reminder to John of what happened to those she claimed to love.

He paused and looked down at the figure in the bed. It hardly looked anything like the young man he remembered. Thirteen years, almost fourteen now…. that would change anyone a lot. But this much…?

John was asleep, or so it seemed. Jha'dur's subtle revenge was close to claiming him. A few more months at most. Ambassador Sheridan hated Jha'dur for a great many things, but for this more than anything else.

His son should not have to die this way, and if Delenn chose correctly he would not have to.

Placing his son's fate in her hands…. that hurt. In spite of everything that John had done…. to Anna, to humanity, to his crew and his Government…. in spite of all that, John was still his son.

John was beginning to wake up. It was dark in here, but certain…. changes had been made to David in order to help him see better. He could see his son's face all too well. He wished he could not.

John blinked, and strained to look round. "Wh…. who's there?" he asked. His voice was hoarse, rasping. "Who…? Not Delenn…." He fell silent, and his breathing continued as regular, as unnatural as always.

"D…. Dad," he breathed.

"Hello, John. You certainly messed everything up this time, hmm?"

Chapter 3

He had always wanted to be a father, always wanted the joy of bringing life into the world, of watching his child being born, growing, learning, and over time becoming greater than him. He had believed that there could be no greater joy for a parent than to be surpassed by his children.

And no greater pain than to watch his children fail.

Ambassador David Sheridan looked down at his crippled, dying son, and he was not sure what to think. He had not seen John in over thirteen years, but he had never been far from his thoughts. To see him like this….

Still, he knew who to blame, and she would receive her own punishment for her part in this.

But that could wait.

"D…. Dad?" whispered the pathetic figure in the life support system.

"Hello, John," he replied, using every iota of his skill and experience not to reveal his true emotions. Some things had to be said here, and he had to say them. If John was to live, then he had to understand what he had done, and where he had gone wrong.

And teaching him those things was a father's duty, was it not?

"You really messed things up this time, hmm?"

"Dad," he whispered. "Ah…. d…. dreaming. You're dead."

David shook his head. "No, I'm not dead, John. There have been times I wished I were, but…. I'm still alive, more so than you are by the looks of things."

"Where's…. Mum? Liz? I'm dead…. aren't I? This is…. Heaven?"

"Trust me, John. I've never been to Heaven, but I hope it's better than this place. You're still alive, and so am I. I was one of the lucky ones, John. I got away. Your Mum and Liz…. they didn't."

"What…. happened? Why…. why didn't you…. come…. earlier?"

"If I could have done, I would." He walked around the bed slowly, looking at the paralysed body of his only son. The virus that was killing him was of no concern. Slowly, David sat down, noting with considerable distaste that this was where Delenn would sit while she was here. "I've…. been busy. I've had a lot to do. I've been putting all my old skills to good use, John. Brokering alliances…. helping out at Proxima…. doing what I could…."

"Why…. here?"

"Business with the Alliance. I don't suppose she told you. No, of course not. She's the one who got you into this whole mess in the first place. She's not likely to want to get you out of it. Her, and all the Minbari. It was thanks to them you were infected with this…. awful virus, wasn't it? I know where it came from, John."

"How…?" He was blinking slowly. His eyes were vague and unfocussed.

"I've…. access to important information. I can help you, John. We can help you. We have a cure. We might even be able to do something with your injuries. I can't promise that…. but we can do more for you than they can here. And even if we can't…. what sort of place is this for you? You should be with your own kind…. not these aliens.

"Come with me, John. Come home."

"Where? Come…. where?"

"Proxima. We can cure you there. We can help you. You were just…. led astray. Brainwashed, even. The President might not like the idea of your coming back, but he understands. You're no threat to him any more. Come home."

"Cure…? Oh no. Dad…. tell me…. you didn't…. The Shadows…."

"Shadows? What sort of name is that? Yes, I work for them, John, but they helped me. They help all of us."

"They…. did this…. to me…."

"No. Delenn did that to you. And G'Kar, and all of these aliens here. John…. the Shadows…. are our friends. They helped me. They saved my life. Without them, I'd be dead. As dead as your mother is."

"No…. Don't want to hear this."

"What choice do you have? John, listen to me! The Minbari have got to you, and they've brought you here! Jha'dur infected you thanks to them! They caused you to rebel against your own Government…. to fire on your own ships…. to kill your own people.

"And as for Anna…."

"No. I'm just dreaming." The cry was pitiful, almost too painful for him to bear, but he continued. Some things had to be said.

"They did that to you, John. I don't…. understand how you could do…. what you did to her…. but you're my son, and you always will be. I forgive you. Just come home."

"No. Who are you? My Dad would never work for…. those things. I don't…. I'm dreaming. You're not real. Go away."

He sighed softly, and then nodded. "I see. I'm sorry, John. I'm…. really sorry. But you're still my son." He rose to his feet, and slowly walked to the door. "Goodbye, John." Then he left.

John Sheridan stayed awake long into the night, wet tears on his face.

Alfred Bester had once thought of his greatest virtue as being that he always knew where his priorities lay. As he contemplated the end of Sanctuary he weighed them up in his mind and found that they were accurate, as always.

Sanctuary had been a great asset to him, but it was now in danger, and if it must be lost, then lost it must be. There were greater things to worry about.

His people, his friends, and his loved one…. not necessarily in that order.