Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.(ЛП)

"Then…. a month or so before the New Year, Mr. Morden contacted me. The leader they'd been expecting was ready to arise, and it was time to get you ready. I personally had you assigned the task which led to your uncovering the G'Kar File. Morden and I both wanted to see how much you would be able to work out for yourself. We were…. very pleased with your progress.

"Yesterday Morden himself arrived here, after quite a long absence, and I was told it was time. All today's events were orchestrated by Morden and myself, both to test you and to…. erase your past life. You have a new destiny now."

Edgars fell silent, and for a long time Catherine could only stand and stare. "I…. don't believe this," she whispered. "The last few years…. everything has been…. I didn't earn those promotions…. you killed Dan…. Julie…. you…. you…. All for some babble about a leader!"

Edgars smiled. "I realise this must all be difficult to understand, but…."

"Difficult! You…. you…. Whatever this is, I won't do it. I'm…. not jumping through your hoops any more!"

"Ah. I too had doubts at first, but there is something else you should see." Edgars stood up. "You can come in now."

Two figures began coming slowly into view. One was human, the man she had glimpsed briefly in Julie's apartment. That must be the…. Mr….. Morden Edgars had talked about. The other figure….

…. was definitely not human. Catherine had never seen one before, but that did not matter. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the alien next to Mr. Morden was a Vorlon.

* * *

And she saw….

Faces, some she knew, some she did not. Images, randomly chosen, floating through the forefront of their minds, joined as one.

A face she had only seen once, but one she could never forget. The face of a woman dying before her eyes, shot down by the man both of them loved.

Your…. pain,she thought. O h, John…. how could you endure…?

Another face, one she did know very well, mouthing lies and half-truths and rumours disguised as the truth. The face of the woman who had brought her to a place where she could be tortured, who had broken open her cocoon, the woman who…. who had inadvertently brought her and John together.

I cannot hate you. Whatever you have done, I cannot hate you.

Before her there was a column of light, but it was not strong. What should have been a brilliant beam rising up into the sky was a thin pencil, battered on all sides by the darkness.

Oh, John.

And then a voice, a booming, mocking voice, one she knew all too well.

I am lost in darkness for you.

She started. Her voice. Words she had never spoken to him, but her voice.

Knowing what she had to do, she ran towards the light that was the soul of the man she loved.

* * *

"The Vorlons…. But…."

"'God moves in a mysterious way'," quoted Edgars, an ironic smile on his face. "But He's a cheap con man compared to the Vorlons."

"I don't understand," Catherine whispered. "You've been…. allied with the Vorlons? For all this time?"

"Yes," Edgars said. "Oh, this of course is Mr. Morden, and our good friend here goes by the name Okesh Naranell. The latter word is a sort of title, I believe."

"Charmed, Miss Sakai," Morden said politely. "It's good to see you again. Our last meeting was…. all too brief."

"Last…." Catherine looked down. "You killed Julie."

"An overzealous guard. You have my apologies."

"Apologies." Catherine was speaking slowly, flatly, with no emotion in her voice. It was hard to realise she was feeling any emotion at all. "Apol…. apologies…. I can't take in any of this. It's all…. rubbish, isn't it? Isn't it? Why should I believe any of this? I'm some sort of…. link to a great leader who hasn't arrived yet? Do you have any idea how…?"

She stopped, not from running out of words, but because the air moved. There was the faint hint of an orchestra just out of earshot. The winds rustled through countless unseen chimes which jangled as they were shaken. There was one instant of perfect beauty and clarity.

The Vorlon, in short, was getting ready to say something.

"Wh…. what?"

"Jeffrey Sinclair," repeated Morden. "You…. are familiar with him, I trust?"

"He's dead. Dead long ago. What does he have to…?" Her eyes widened as everything became clear, with a thought that exploded into her mind. "He's this leader of yours? He's…. not…. dead?"

"He was badly wounded at the Battle of the Line," supplied Morden. "He was taken in as a prisoner by the Minbari and, because my associates here have as much clout with them as with everyone else, they took Mr. Sinclair off their hands. He is now quite safe and in the process of becoming a serious cultural icon."

"Where is he? Oh my God…. I thought…. twelve years…. Twelve years!"