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

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"I see…. Other races? What about the Alliance?"

"A Vorlon Ambassador is being posted there as we speak. Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar has had a long and beneficial relationship with my associates, so he should welcome their assistance."

"And so would we. But…. here is the question, Mr. Morden. The sixty-four thousand ducat question. What will this help cost?"

"We wish only to benefit the younger races in the galaxy. But…. there is a small price. They would like to post a permanent Ambassador here. They may also require…. at some point in the future…. assistance from your Government, should they elect to go to war with the Shadows. They will definitely not ask anything more than you can pay. Supplies, perhaps. A garrison for their vessels here. Support ships, maybe.

"But they can offer you a great deal. Help in ending this war with the Narns…. and military assistance should it be needed. They will also be able to rid you of these…. problems…. with the Shadow Criers. They have as much interest in that as you do."

"Hmm…." Londo looked deep into his glass, swilling the remains of his brivare around. It had gone cold by now. "You make an interesting argument, Mr. Morden. I assume you have full authority to conduct a formal treaty?"

"Oh yes. Completely."

"An alliance with the Vorlons…. It is a more than tempting offer, Mr. Morden, but I must discuss matters with my Government. I assure you that only they will know of your offer. In the meantime, you may feel free to treat this palace as your home."

"I would be honoured, Emperor. I leave you to your deliberations, then. Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Morden."

Londo was deep in thought as Morden left.

* * *

There is a finite level of rage that most people can manage: a built-in limit to just how angry they can get. For some, this level is higher than for others.

Delenn very rarely rose to the upper levels of her anger, certainly not in the way that people such as Sinoval did. In fact, she could recall having been this angry only once before, and she was well aware of the terrible mistake she had made then. This time was different though.

There would be no mistake this time.

She sat in silence, looking around at the Council members. Each of them was as determined and as convinced as she herself. Taan Churok was on the verge of open violence, but then he and Vizhak had been opposed even to the idea of negotiations almost from the start. What they had learned today had only heightened their anger. 'I told you so's' would be flying around soon enough, but in Drazi fashion, which was much more dangerous. The Narn Ambassador G'Kael looked a little uncomfortable. He was after all a newcomer here. Vizhak had argued for leaving him out of this meeting, but Lethke and Delenn had overruled him. If the Narns were to be fully involved in this, they had to understand.

And as for Lethke…. he was calm, but inwardly he was just as angry as the rest. More so, even. Brakiri were a trading people, and always had been. They took great offence at being approached in anything less than good faith.

And there was one other. He was silent, still, unmoving.

The door opened and an aide appeared, a Brakiri, formerly a member of the Trading House here. "Ambassador Sheridan is here," he announced.

"Excellent. Send him in," Delenn said, keeping her tone neutral.

The Shadow Ambassador entered, looking unruffled and perfectly at home despite the abruptness and timing of his summons.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, entering. "It is an honour to meet with you again. May I infer from my summons to this meeting that you have reached a decision?"

"You may infer whatever you wish, Ambassador," Delenn said coldly, rising from her seat. "But you are right. We have reached a decision…. and that is this.

"There can be no peace with the Shadow. None at all."

If they were expecting a reaction, they did not get it. "Ah. A grave disappointment."

"Is that what you call it, Ambassador? You should consider yourself fortunate that you are merely…. disappointed…. and not receiving a much worse fate."

"I do not appreciate being threatened."

"I am not threatening you! I am making a promise. A complete…. and total promise. There will be no peace with the Shadow. Not now…. and not ever."

"May I know the reasons for…. this…. hostility?"

"Indeed you may. I believe you know Merchant-Captain Kullenbrok?"

"The name rings a bell." He sat still for a moment, seemingly lost in memory. Delenn realised that he knew full well of whom they were speaking. "Ah yes. One of the individuals we exchanged for Miss Ivanova and Captain Smith."

"Indeed. He was a prominent member of a Brakiri Merchant House on this world before the Drakh invasion…."

"As I have said…. my associates did not sanction that attack in any way, shape or form. The assault on this world…. was carried out by an independent faction of the Drakh warrior caste. My associates…. both human and Shadow, merely managed to use their contacts with the Drakh to release the prisoners."

"Yes…. you have said as much. I do not believe you, Ambassador. The Drakh attacked this world on the direct orders of your…. associates. But that is not the issue here. Merchant-Captain Kullenbrok killed himself last night in his room. As was inevitable…. we investigated his death, and our ally Vejar here…. discovered something. Do you know what?"

He shook his head, smiling.

"Vejar."

The technomage stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room. He was carrying a small, transparent box, constructed from some sort of crystal. Inside the box was a small grey mass. It stirred, and something opened, revealing a malevolent, brightly-shining eye. It burst into a flurry of motion, extending limbs from its body and thrashing against the side of its prison.

"It seems to recognise you, Ambassador," Delenn said, as Vejar laid the box down on the Council table. Vizhak surreptitiously slid as far away from it as possible. "You know what it is?"

"I am sure you have no interest in my answering that question."

"I am sure I already know the answer. It is a Keeper, a foul device created…. or harnessed by your associates. We have detected countless numbers of them upon our citizens here…. a legacy of the Drakh occupation, and of your passing. We checked out the other…. prisoners freed in the exchange. Two of them have disappeared, but the other three were all possessed by these Keepers.

"You have acted in considerably less than good faith, Ambassador…. and we reject your offers of peace, because we know they are false. We do not want war with either of your associates…. but if that is the only choice we have, then that we shall choose."

"I have full diplomatic immunity," he snapped quickly. "But in the grand scale of things, my life means nothing."

"Calm down, Ambassador," Delenn said slowly. "We will not harm you. Not because of your…. 'diplomatic immunity', but because we are better people than you." Taan Churok growled softly. "You have one hour to gather your belongings and leave Kazomi Seven. And after that, if you or any members of your staff are found within Alliance space…. you will not leave it alive.

"Am I clear?"

"Perfectly. In that case, I wish to make just one point." He looked around the table, pausing at each figure. "Brakiri. Drazi. Narn. Minbari. You are all dead. Each and every member of all your races. We offered you peace. We offered you assistance…. and understanding.

"There will be no peace now. Your choice. Not mine. Not ours. There will be no peace. There will be only death, and the worms and the rats will crawl through this room when we are done, and your Alliance of paper and string will consist only of the dead.

"A sad loss, to be sure. And an unnecessary one. But with you gone…. perhaps the other races will listen. No one ever said we could win all the time."

He turned and stalked from the room. When he was gone Delenn sat down, shooting a warning glance at Taan Churok as he leapt up. "No," she said. "We have given him an hour. Vejar…. I think you had better follow him…. Be sure he does not…. do anything inappropriate. If he is still on this planet after an hour, kill him."

The technomage nodded and left the room. The air seemed to crackle with each movement.

"We should have killed him," Vizhak said angrily. This was one of the few things he and Taan Churok had agreed upon since the Alliance had been founded.

"We should never let our enemies live," growled his Drazi companion.

"We are not murderers," Delenn said firmly. "And this Alliance will not be built upon the callous shedding of blood. But it seems we will have to prepare for war. Ambassador G'Kael, will you be able to arrange a meeting for me with G'Kar? I had…. hoped he would be here."

"He wished to…. avoid too firm a link with the Alliance. Precisely to avoid this sort of situation."

"Well, the Alliance and the Rangers are moving in the same direction now. As we should have been from the start."

She sat back in her chair and looked around at the other members. "Well…. we have lasted over a year, and but for two major battles it has been a peaceful time. I am very much afraid that none of us will ever see peace again in our lifetimes."

Vizhak muttered something in the Drazi language, and Taan Churok chuckled. Delenn took a moment to translate, and then she smiled sadly.

It was an old Drazi proverb. 'Peace comes only with the grave. Yours…. or theirs.'

* * *

"And how did the meeting go?"

"As…. well as could be expected, I suppose." Delenn looked at G'Kar carefully. He had spent the last few months slowly recovering from his injuries. She had spent as much time as she could with him, but that had been sadly very little. The business with the Alliance, the peace talks and…. John had kept her away. A shame. She felt there was much to learn from this Narn. He had somehow embraced an inner peace that had escaped almost everyone else. In all the galaxy, he alone was sure of his place, and his direction.

And now he was running around, packing, behaving with considerable energy.

"I would have liked you to have been there."

"Ah…. no. You did fine without me, from the sound of it." He stopped, and looked at her carefully. "You are sure about this choice? It will not be an easy war."

"Wars never are," she replied sternly. "But yes, I am sure. I want peace, yes…. but not the peace we would have had by surrendering to them."

"Hah! Exactly. But still…. things will be difficult. They have a considerable start on this, but all is not yet lost. We have allies out there. All we need do is find them."

"Allies? Such as who?"

"Well…. before the battle I would have said Mr. Bester…. but it seems that particular relationship has well and truly run its course. Oh well…. but even without him, there is Primarch Sinoval, if no one else. If we can get him on to our side…. then…. In him we could have the greatest friend we will ever need, or the worst enemy. And Emperor Mollari, of course.

"I do not think we are anywhere near as alone as it might seem."

"Perhaps. I…. You look as if you are preparing to leave."

"Oh, I am."

"Was it…. something I said?"

"No. I have…. certain obligations to various allies and contacts I acquired before entering the Machine. I spent two years trapped in metal and rock, and now my body is my own again. It is time I started fulfilling my obligations. There are people I have to see, and things I have to do…. and I have to do them alone."

"You cannot leave now! Your injuries…."

"I can see…. I can speak, I can touch, I can walk and I can think. I need nothing else."

"We need you. We need your Rangers."

"Ta'Lon will fill in here for me. He is a good man, and he will lead the Rangers some day…. if not all of Narn."

"A prophecy, G'Kar?"

"Simple wisdom. It is something we all have, but few of us know how to use. All the knowledge I have gathered is with him, and he will be able to use it just as well as I could. And…. he will follow you."

"Me?"

"Of course. Neroon would have followed you anywhere. And Ta'Lon will honour his friend's memory. Neroon loved you deeply, and Ta'Lon will honour that love. As do I."

"Neroon…. yes. I…. I have missed him."

"We all have, but he is with us, Delenn. All of the fallen are."

She blinked, and smiled slowly and sadly. "Where will you go first?"

"Hmm…. There is an old Narn legend of the prophet G'Quan, that when he went seeking wisdom, he first went into the lair of the…. ah, it is hard to translate. Humans have legends of beasts called 'dragons', I believe…. and they are as close as any other. G'Quan went into the lair of the dragon on the first stage of his quest for wisdom. And so shall I."

"And where will you find this…. dragon?"

He smiled. "Centauri Prime, of course. Where else?"

* * *

"She does not love you. She will never love you. Not while he is there."

"Do you think I don't know that!?"

Sonovar smiled, dancing slowly around Kozorr. He had spent the last few months observing his fighting style, noting the adjustments made to compensate for his injuries. Kozorr had developed something new, and very interesting. But as for Sonovar's other purpose, that was working as well.

"Tell me about Sinoval," he said slowly, making sure to keep just out of reach of Kozorr's charge. That shortened pike of his could make a very deadly stabbing weapon, but it lacked the range of a full denn'bok.

"What is there to tell?" He was not moving very far. His weak leg saw to that. No, Kozorr had become the rock, sure and steady, willing to let the enemy come to his ground, come to where he could deal with them. "You know him just as well as I. He trained you, after all."

"Indeed he did. But the Sinoval I know is long gone. Maybe he died when we besieged Earth, or maybe a little afterwards. Or maybe it was during our attack on the Earthers at Proxima. It doesn't matter. The Sinoval who trained me would never have done the things this…. Primarch Sinoval has done."

"He is the same person he always was."

"You think? Tell me, Kozorr…. what were your feelings when you heard he had been made Holy One…. leader of our Grey Council?"

"I…. What does it matter?"

"Then I will tell you what you thought." He darted inwards, lashing out at Kozorr's legs. The shortened pike came down in a strong parry and then darted out in a riposte. Sonovar dived back, and only just dodged the attack. "You were exultant, overawed…. at last a warrior had come to lead us again. Our greatest warrior. We would be strong as a people, triumphant over our enemies. No more would we suffer the whining platitudes of the priestlings or the weak-willed inferiorities of the workers.

"We would be the strong, the brave, the mighty.

"We were betrayed."

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