Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке

to breathe. Most unfortunate, yes. <Click, click> Great inefficiency, yes. Zathras should have been designed better.'

'What space suits do we have? We have to fix that machinery somehow.'

'Mostly Narn, or human,' replied Ta'Lon. 'We took some of the human space suits from the Parmenion and the other ships. Most of the technicians who worked on the final components of the temporal machinery were human.'

'We have Narn space suits as well. Do you know how to fix it?'

'I do not, no…. and I am needed here. If I or any of my men leave to try to repair this, then we will be unable to hold off the Shadows.'

'I can do it,' spoke up a new voice suddenly.

'Catherine! No, I am sorry.'

'Yes, I can, Jeffrey. I've done space repairs before, back when I was working for IPX. I used to do a lot of emergency repairs to my shuttle. This can't be that much different, if Zathras will explain to me what's involved.'

'Ah, yes. Zathras happy to explain. Problem is that central magnetic lock needs to be replaced. Now you….'

'You can't do this,' interrupted Valen. 'I'm sorry, Catherine. You….'

'Don't, Jeff. I said I was coming along on this, and I've got to pull my weight. You need this fixed, and I'm the only person you can spare to do it.'

'I…. I….'

'Let her go,' said Zathras, his face very serious. 'She will be fine.'

'Damn,' he whispered. 'Fine, go on, Catherine. But come back.'

'Of course I will.'

'Ta'Lon, can you spare any men to escort Catherine and Zathras to the docking bays? We need to get them there as soon as possible.'

'I will see what….' The door to the command centre suddenly opened and two Narns ran in. Both were bleeding heavily. 'They're coming. We can't hold them any longer.'

'I will have to escort all of you,' Ta'Lon said seriously. 'We must hurry.'

A few minutes later Susan Ivanova walked into the empty room and looked around. They'd gone. Oh well, it didn't matter. They couldn't hide forever. 'What do I do now?' she asked.

They told her.

* * *

Londo knew that something was wrong. He knew the palace compound as well as any place he had ever been. Most of his life had been spent here: as a young idealist, as a cynical hardened politician, as one of the most prominent figures in the Government, and now as a prisoner.

But in all that time, he had never known the Court like this.

From his cell he could not hear the screams of panic or the terrified pleas or the cries of the wounded, but he could feel the death hanging in the air.

'Great Maker,' he whispered to himself. 'What has happened out there?'

He was tired of pacing up and down the cell. He was tired of staring at the walls, or the door, or the window. He was tired of reliving that terrible vision of the war in the heavens. He was tired of being a prisoner here!

'How is it going, I wonder?' He preferred talking to himself. The sound of his voice eased the anger he felt, although not by much. 'Marrago, and Durano, and Timov…. ah…. I have faith in you all. Yes. You will do well, I am….'

He paused and turned, just as the door to his cell opened. A bright light filled the room, and he winced. 'If this is my lunch, you are very late,' he snapped, trying to suppress a surge of fear. What if he was to be taken to see that…. vision again? What if…?

'Minister Mollari,' said a familiar voice. 'Come quick. We do not have much time.'

'Lennier! Ah, Great Maker, I could kiss you!' He rushed to the doorway of light and crossed the threshold into the corridor.

'That will…. not be necessary. But I thank you for the offer all the same. We should hurry now. I…. believe something unpleasant is happening at the Court.'

'Yes, I can feel it. How did you escape, anyway?'

'I was…. freed. By Prince Cartagia.'

'What? I do not like the sound of that. No, I do not like the sound of that at all. Why would he do such a thing?'

'I…. do not know.' Londo looked at his friend. The Minbari was lying. Oh, it was well known that Minbari did not lie, but Londo was a career politician, and he knew a falsehood when he heard one. Still, he decided to keep quiet. Lennier had his reasons, and it was unthinkable that he was working for…. them.

'Well then, we had better get out of here, and quickly, as you said. We….' He looked around. 'Where are all the guards? This is a high-security prison. They should be all over the place.'

'I have not seen any since I was freed. Perhaps they have been called away?'

'Cartagia again? Or something else? Well, we shall have to see. Anyway, we have a brief opportunity here, and we should not waste it. Come on, my friend. I know where to go.'

'To the spaceport, hopefully. Or perhaps to some allies or agents you may have in the city?'

'No. To see Malachi. He will be at the Court, and I have to see him. I have to know…. I just have to know.'

'And…. it will undoubtedly do no good to point out that it was this need to know that put us both here in the first place?'

'He is my friend, Lennier. And he is a good man. A very good man. He would not do something like this unless he had a very good reason. I need to know.'

'Ah, well then. You will lead, and I will follow.'

'Good.'

* * *

A flash of light, a scream of agony in the mind.

The Parmenion shook with the impact, redirecting its broadsides to the monsters before it. The Shadow ship recoiled, spinning backwards, but recovered effortlessly.

'We're losing hull integrity, Captain,' said Commander Corwin. He was thinking about Mary. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to ask her….

'And the jump engines are down, possibly permanently. Normal engines at little better than forty percent capacity, and we're going to lose rotation any minute now.'

Captain John Sheridan, the legendary Starkiller, was thinking about dying….

* * *

'I can't hold it any more!'

* * *

'I can't explain it…. but they don't seem to be targeting us. They're going for the other ships, but they've been going straight past us.'

Captain Dexter Smith frowned. 'There could be any number of explanations, Lieutenant Franklin. We don't have time to consider this now.'

'Captain, what are we doing here?' asked a new voice. 'These…. aliens are our allies. Why are we fighting them, alongside our enemies?'

'I made a promise, Mr. Ericsson.' Smith looked at his Chief of Security, and couldn't disagree with the truth of his words. What was he supposed to say? That he had been told a lot of gibberish about the future, and the past, and a legendary Minbari God? He was not sure he believed it himself. He just knew that fighting here was something he had to do.

'I assure you, Mr. Ericsson, that this is for the best. I promise you that you and all the crew will be permitted to return to Proxima once this battle is over, and I further assure you that I personally will take all responsibility for this action.'

'If you say so, sir.' Ericsson did not look convinced.