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

The original plan had been to list on the giant archway everyone who had died during the Drakh invasion, but that had rapidly proved to be impossible. There were just too many dead, and the vast majority of them could not be identified. All the records had been destroyed and the immigration and trading lists had been less than accurate anyway.

Delenn had proposed another idea however, having once heard a story from John. It had seemed hauntingly appropriate, and not for the first time she had wondered at the poetry and beauty of the race she had very nearly destroyed.

Over three hundred years ago, there had been a bloody, terrible war among humanity. An entire generation of young men had been slaughtered. It had been called, with tragic inaccuracy, 'the war to end all wars'. Afterwards, in a bid for some sort of legacy, one of the nations involved had devised a new memorial. Six coffins were taken from among the thousands of unidentified dead wearing that country's uniform, and in a moving ceremony an ordinary soldier selected one of these coffins at random. One body, representing all the dead. One brave soul, serving as a reminder of all brave souls. The body was buried under a huge archway in the centre of the capital city, and an eternal flame lit to burn forever over the 'Tomb of the Unknown Warrior'.

That tomb was gone now, but the poetry of the concept remained, and Delenn had managed to reinstate it here. A body had been found, one among many that could not be identified, and it had been buried here, representing all those who had died in the Drakh invasion.

A tiny, insignificant atonement for all she had destroyed.

There was a soft cough behind her and she turned, lost in her thoughts. She had completely forgotten that she had come here to wait for someone.

"Lyta," she said smiling, hugging her friend warmly. "It has been…. too long since we last spoke."

"Yes," Lyta said, a trifle hesitantly, returning the hug tentatively. "We've been…. busy."

Delenn pulled back, looking at her friend. "Something is wrong, isn't it? That's why you asked to meet me here."

"Yes. He…. doesn't like this place. Not at all. His…. influence isn't so strong here, for some reason."

"Vejar blessed this shrine when it was constructed," Delenn said thoughtfully. "He said it would never be destroyed, never decay, never tarnish. He said it would still be here when the planet itself crumbled into dust."

"That could be it," Lyta said thoughtfully. "Ulkesh…. doesn't seem to like Vejar much. He didn't say anything, but it's clear he doesn't…. approve of having a technomage around."

"And Vejar has been staying away from the Vorlons as much as he can. You think something is…. wrong, don't you?"

"I know something's wrong," she replied. "Oh, Delenn. You don't know what's he like. He's…. not at all like Kosh. He's very different. He's planning something. He's been waiting for this for a long time. He knows everything I'm thinking and he…. His anger is…. terrible." The last word came out as a plaintive cry, and Delenn stepped forward to embrace her friend again.

"I came to warn you," Lyta said, after a pause. "He's not helping the Alliance…. because he's doesn't want to. It's not that he can't. It's that he won't. There's something here that he doesn't like…. and I think it's you."

"Me?" Delenn was astounded. She had been with the Vorlons for so long. She had even let one of them share her soul for years. Dukhat had believed in them implicitly. "Why could he not…. like me?"

"I don't know, but he is planning something to do with you, Delenn. I don't know what, but…. you won't like it. " Lyta stepped back. "I have to go. I can't stay here too long, or he'll know. I just had to warn you. Be very, very careful of him, Delenn. He's dangerous."

Lyta slipped away from Delenn's embrace and vanished from the shrine. Delenn turned back to look at the arch, and she began to ponder. She was thinking of…. she was thinking of voicing her suspicions to the one person she knew who would share them.

If Sinoval would listen, of course.

* * *

If Londo had been told when he was young just what being Emperor would entail, he would in all likelihood have resolved not to take up the position and to remain in bed for the rest of his life. As it was, no one had filled him in exactly and so he had been lumbered with the job. Any position, he had thought to himself, mid-way through suffering yet another six-hour speech by those thieves in Resource Procurement, where so much time is spent sitting down, cannot possibly be worth it.

Fortunately the job was not without its advantages, and one of those was that at least he could be sure his friends got ahead in the world.

The downside to that, of course, was that his friends had to suffer through the same purgatory he did, but at least the misery was spread around.