Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам

He was strong.

Do you wish us to kill him, lady? hissed the alien voice in her mind. She could call the Faceless to her in a heartbeat.

No, she replied. She was not telepathic, of course. Apart for a few failed experiments conducted by the Prophet, none of her people were, but she wondered sometimes if this communion was what it meant to be a telepath. The ritual she had undergone had given her a world of new sensations. This was only the smallest. Moreil has his own plans for this one.

He is dangerous. The Wykhheran fear him. But speak the word and he shall die.

No, she repeated. The Faceless were the ultimate assassins, greater by far even than the Thenta Ma'Kur, but they needed to serve. They did not think beyond the kill. Their creators had not designed them that way.

'And that little girl, what did she find on her travels? What did she bring back to her homeworld with her?'

Mi'Ra smiled, and rose to her feet. 'An interesting story, but your time would be better spent on other things, Captain. Remember. We go to war.'

He looked at her. 'I am a soldier,' he said, in a voice as deep as thunder. 'I am always at war.'

* * *

She was never far from the screams. They were there when she closed her eyes at night, and there when she opened them in the morning. The trapped, the lost, the prisoners. The countless slaves to the Vorlon network. Some she knew, some she didn't. Many weren't even human. That didn't matter. They were telepaths, like her — one kind, like her, one people, like her.

Talia opened her eyes and they were screaming even more loudly. One of them was standing before her. One of the abominations, one of those who actually liked their new role.

The Hand of the Light. The Bloodhounds. Countless different names for the same basic function.

Hunters.

The creature hissed and moved back. Talia looked at it.

'Now, I'm annoyed,' she said.

Darkness crackled from her fingertips and she pointed at the abomination. It screamed as bolts of raw shadow struck at it. Light formed around it as a shield, but anger gave her thoughts power and she shattered it with a thought.

These things hunted her people, consigning them to an eternity of pain. They did it willingly, voluntarily.

They enjoyed it.

They would take her if they could, maybe even make her one of them. They had taken Al. They would take Abby. They would take Dexter. They would take all of her people.

Join us, it hissed at her. Living or dead, willing or not, you will join us.

She glanced at Dexter. His glance was flicking from her to the abomination. She was not sure which repelled him more.

'No,' she said, loud enough for him to hear. She would not share her thoughts with this creature. That was for her people, for her lovers, for her loved ones. Al, Abby, Dexter.

She found herself thinking of the soul trapped within the Dark Star she had encountered on the way here. A pitiful thing, still dreaming of the protective blanket that had kept him safe from imaginary monsters as a child.

Well, she was a child no longer, and the hardest lesson Talia had ever learned as an adult was that not all monsters are imaginary, and there is no blanket to hide beneath.

There was only her.

Waves of shadow flowed from her hands, enveloping the abomination. Tiny sparks of light tried to shine through the dark cloud, but they were soon swallowed up. Talia concentrated harder, forcing the tendrils into its throat, its eyes, its nose.

It fell, still trying to summon the light, still trying to invade her mind. It was failing, naturally. Its power worked on fear, and she was not afraid of them.

Help me, came the pitiful psychic cry. It fell to the ground, head tilted back, choking sounds coming from its shaking body. It reached out one hand to Dexter.

Help me, brother.

Talia looked at him, trembling. He was looking back at her, his gaze stern. She caught a glimpse of horror in his expression. It had been almost two years. She had changed. He would have to understand that.

He would understand that, wouldn't he?

The abomination tried to crawl towards him. Help me, brother, it said again, reaching out to touch him.

Dexter kicked its hand away. 'No,' he said softly.

It shrank up into a ball, now completely consumed by the shadow. Little moans came from it, but they were becoming quieter and quieter. The shaking grew less and less. The shadow became smaller and smaller and finally faded away, leaving nothing behind.

Talia looked up at Dexter. He was motionless, staring at her.

'Don't judge me,' she whispered. 'Don't dare judge me.'

'You've changed,' he said.

'I'm at war. Of course I've changed.'

He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. 'I've changed too,' he whispered.

She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

'That's what you came to talk to me about, isn't it?' he asked. She nodded wordlessly. 'They know you're here?' Another nod. 'Will there be more of them?' Another nod.

'So,' he said at last. 'You need my help?'

'Yes,' she said, pulling back and looking up at him. 'They're here. They have a base here. IPX is still capturing telepaths and turning us into…. them. They're just going a little further afield.'

'They won a contract from the Government some time last year. It involves going out amongst the destroyed colonies, looking for salvage. Lots of big ships. A long time away from Proxima, or anywhere civilised. Lots of scope for…. anything.'

'I'm here to fight them,' she said softly. 'Want to help?'

'You mean, do I want to give up a cushy Senator's job and go back to the glory days of waging a suicidal guerilla war against all-powerful opponents?' He stopped, thinking about it. 'Sure, why not? What's the first stage, other than both of us getting out of here?'

She kissed him. His lips were very warm. His head was pounding — she could feel the pain in the back of his skull. Too much alcohol. Not her, though. She was remarkably clear-headed.

'Thank you,' she said.

'Anything for a lady.'

'The first thing we need is a little help to get a few people inside Proxima without strictly legal passports. And there's an item we need brought in as well. You'll have to see it. It will explain a lot, not least…. how I've changed.'

'I can do that. What's this item do?'

'A great many things. It's called the Apocalypse Box.'

* * *

Ha'Cormar'ah G'Kar loved many things in his life, although it did not come easily to him to say so. I could read some of the things in his expression as he told his tales of the old days.

G'Kar looked at the shrine for a long time, his eyes half-closed, seeing half of what was and half what of had been and half of what he dreamed it could be.