Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке - страница 43

Delenn could see him now. He was slight, seemingly so slender as to break at a touch, and yet his young frame harboured more power than she could have believed possible.

As she watched, Vejar stepped back and ushered off another Minbari. The figure, probably a worker, smiled and walked away from him, making for the two Drazi guards who would carry out the customs check. Vejar bowed solemnly and ushered on the next one.

An important duty, but an exhausting one. Vejar had the task of protecting Kazomi 7, just as Taan Churok did, but from a different direction. While Taan Churok observed for conventional threats, Vejar looked for the…. more unconventional.

The next Minbari, an old, hobbling priest, clearly favouring her left leg, reached the technomage. She smiled benevolently as he placed his hand on her forehead.

Instantly, her whole demeanour changed. A look of insane hatred passed over her face and she lunged at the technomage, her fingers clawing for his eyes. Drazi from all around converged on her, their long, wickedly-pointed knives in their hands instantly. Vejar looked unconcerned, however. Entwining his fingers into a steeple, he took measured steps back from his assailant. With a smooth motion, he blew across the tips of his fingers.

She fell back, her weak leg giving way, sending her falling to the floor. A large hump appeared on her shoulder, one circle of light glowing from its centre.

Taan Churok growled slightly, and Delenn finally found the strength to breathe out. Just another Keeper. One of many found on Minbari refugees. One of far too many.

A tool of the Enemy. Delenn knew little of what the Keepers could do, save for what she had seen here herself. The Drakh had left many behind on Kazomi 7 before they departed, but to see them coming from beyond…. it always terrified her.

Especially on her own people.

Vejar knelt across the Minbari's prone body and raised a hand gently to halt the zealous Drazi. "It is all right," he assured them. "Everything is…."

He fell silent, as did the others. Another figure walked into view, one that moved with the grace of a dancer, and the dignity of an angel. One who commanded respect and awe with every small gesture. One who belonged to legend, and to history, and to a time a thousand years gone.

It was the Minbari who spoke first, whispering in awe amongst themselves. All knew he had returned, of course. Many had seen his…. very public pronouncement at the Temple of Varenni in Yedor. Still, the rumours meant little next to the sight of the legend himself. Even Delenn, who knew as much of the truth as any mortal, found herself breathing a little more sharply.

And he began to speak, and his words reached the heart of his people. For he was Valen, the One Who Was, the legend made flesh, and his words were as unto law.

Catherine Sakai knew it was bad news when she received the memo. It was curt, very much to the point, and marked with the personal seal of Orin Zento, CEO of Interplanetary Expeditions himself. Also, and even more significantly, it was handwritten.

Catherine had never seen Zento's handwriting before, and it did not give her any sort of encouragement. It was sharp and angular, with no curves to any of the letters. The words had obviously been written quickly, with no thought other than getting the message across. There was no ostentation, no attempt to make the contents attractive. Nothing but the harshness of the script, and the personal seal. Even the signature stood alone — just Orin Zento, no hint of the many titles which made the man one of the richest and most powerful in the human race.

Catherine read the message again.

Come and see me. My office. 1400 hours. Orin Zento.

Such an event was unprecedented, and Catherine was certain she had an idea of what it was about. The collection of information, discrepancies and tantalising hints she had bundled together in what she called the G'Kar Files.

She waited outside the door to his office, the object of stern glances from the two security guards and no less harsh looks from Zento's secretary, a prim-looking woman by the name of Lise Hampton. She had known about Catherine's appointment instantly, and had made no remark about the strangeness of such an event. She had said only, "Please wait here until Mr. Zento is ready for you," and returned to her business.