Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке

The planet rumbled.

* * *

It had turned. Captain Dexter Smith could see that. The Marten was disabled, the Corinthian gone, the Morningstar sorely pressed, the station lost, and the Machine….

He sat back in his chair, the chair that had marked out his ghost for the past year. That spectre had now finished any hope for success in this mission.

'God forgive me,' he whispered.

'Babylon…. this is Ryan. Do you read me?' The voice over the comm channel was filled with desperation. He knew it as well. The battle was lost.

'Babylon here,' Smith replied. 'Get out of here, General. It's over. Try to free up the Marten and leave.'

'Negative, Babylon…. we have to fight on.'

'It's over, General. We've lost. Don't let this defeat become a disaster. We've recovered from worse than this. We'll be back.'

Smith could imagine Ryan's expression, a terrified resignation, a slow nod, an acceptance that the words he was hearing were true. 'Confirmed, Babylon. The Marten has managed to fix up engines, but not yet weaponry. It can leave. A full retreat. Repeat, we….'

'I'll stay here, General. I'll cover your escape.'

'But Captain….'

'You know what will happen to me if I go back, General. I'll hold them off long enough for the two of you to get out of here. Go!'

'Understood, Babylon. Good luck.'

Duty. Duty and leadership. Smith knew he owed a duty to those under his command, to those he had betrayed with his pride and tunnel vision. Too obsessed with Sheridan to safeguard properly the station or the planet.

He had to redeem himself, first to his fellow captains, and then to those under his command. They would be safe, he would ensure it. He would buy their safety with his own life.

He looked at Franklin, and bowed his head sadly.

'Take us forward. Cover them.'

He shook as he heard the reply. 'Yes, sir.'

* * *

'The Darkness is coming! The Darkness is coming! You can feel it, you can hear it, you will embrace it so that it may claim you…. The Darkness is coming!'

Londo grimaced and put his hands against his ears. 'Will that person shut up?'

He had no idea who it was who was talking. The person in the next cell presumably. Or the one down. Or across the corridor perhaps.

He had no idea where Lennier was. He had no idea where Malachi was either. He had not managed to see his old friend, and he was still no nearer the answers to his questions. He was however much nearer his execution.

'Londo,' had exclaimed the smiling countenance of Lady Elrisia. 'Such a pleasure.' Cartagia was next to her. 'Imagine our surprise at hearing you were coming here. Imagine our…. pleasure.'

'I need to see Malachi.'

'He is ill,' Elrisia had said with considerable satisfaction. 'Very sad of course, but then he is an old man. The…. rigours of recent months are bound to have taken their toll on him.'

'What have you done to him?'

'Nothing. Yet. We don't need to. You see, Londo, I've learned a great deal about politics recently. You, and that dear, dead husband of mine taught me a lot, and the main thing you taught me was that power comes from the top. Everyone else is scrambling around trying to get hold of bits and pieces at the side, working from the bottom up…. but we…. we just went straight for the heart. We control the Court now — the Court, the guards, most of the Centarum, and now you.'

'Then why have you not been doing anything? For the Emperor's sake, Elrisia…. look outside! The city is burning…. The Empire is burning! Why are you not doing anything?'

'Far better to let it burn, and then pick up the ashes…. don't you think?'

Londo stood alone in his dark cell, remembering that conversation; remembering the eyes of his old friend, so very old; remembering the light touch of his wife; remembering the glee in Elrisia's expression; and remembering above all the sight of his beloved city in flames.

'The Darkness is coming!'

No, Londo decided. The Darkness is here.

* * *

With a strength born from suffering, Ta'Lon knocked Tu'Pari aside. The assassin fell sprawling and tried to roll over and up to his feet. The Ranger was too fast for him however, darting forward and charging into him. Blows rained down on Tu'Pari's face.

Tu'Pari had served with the Thenta Ma'Kur for many years and it had taught him a great deal about the art of killing, but that was killing by stealth, through secrecy, the thin blade in the night, the poison in the wine cup.

Ta'Lon had been forged in the fires of war and occupation. He had wandered, rootless and without direction, until he had met G'Kar, and then he had gained a purpose. He had been trained in war and fighting as well as in many of the same skills as Tu'Pari, but there was one crucial difference.

Ta'Lon believed, and that belief gave him the force to survive, to prevail, and to triumph.

He rose above the assassin, lifted Tu'Pari's head, and dashed it to the ground.

There was a crack as his neck broke.

'Ta'Lon,' breathed G'Kar's hoarse voice. 'Help…. me…. up…. The…. Machine….'

'You cannot, Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar,' Ta'Lon replied as he tried to limp forward. The ground beneath them was shaking and trembling. The planet itself seemed to be in revolt.

'You are too weak, Ha'Cormar'ah. You…. need to….' Ta'Lon swayed and almost fell. 'You…. must….'

'The Machine needs me! It…. needs….'

Garibaldi stood up. He seemed strangely centred, all his problems falling away. 'You need someone in that thing? I'll do it.'

* * *

Somewhere…. in a place unvisited by any human, unknown to all of the younger races, two Vorlons were speaking, in a conversation that was not carried out in words….

The bargain?

I remember. I will comply.

We were not ready.

You were ready. Who else could have done this?

We knew nothing. We do not control all the mortals.

You control enough.

The bargain?

I remember. I am going. All will be done as it was done. He will accomplish his destiny. The past will be served, and all hope for the future will be lost.

The future is ours.

And the past is ours. A fair trade.

And your fate?

I remember. I accept.

Good.

* * *

'The Shadows are coming. The Shadows are coming. The Shadows are coming. The Shadows are coming.'