Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке - страница 46

Sheridan started at the mention of human allies, but he did not ask. G'Kar had his secrets, and he knew a great deal more than he was telling anyone. Necessary, Sheridan supposed, but awfully risky as well.

"Anyway…. I have a request for you."

"You wish to return to Kazomi Seven?" G'Kar said, and he smiled as Sheridan started. "It is not that difficult to notice. I swear I may be turning into a Centauri, may G'Quan save me from that fate! It is dangerous here. We are not…. well defended. Some of my Narn ships are here, it is true, but Captain Mollari has returned to his homeworld."

Sheridan started. He had known Carn…. a little. "He was a good captain. We'll miss him."

"I hope it is only temporary, but there is great upheaval on Centauri Prime. Probably little more than politicking, but I cannot be sure. Even if it is merely what the Centauri call 'the Great Game', it is still a great risk. I have heard little from my agents there for some time. I am troubled." He shook his head sadly.

"No, Captain, you may return to Kazomi Seven. We have enough ships here to protect this station for the time being, and hopefully the day will come soon when the Alliance will be moved here. Besides, dark days are coming, and love must be allowed to shine in what little time we have. Bester will not be pleased, no doubt, but he still has Captain Ben Zayn and the Ozymandias, so he can survive. And he understands the importance of defending the new Alliance just as we do."

Sheridan shrugged. He did not like the idea of G'Kar allied with someone like Bester, but war made for strange bedfellows, as the saying went.

"Thank you, G'Kar. With your permission, we will leave tomorrow. Some of my crew are engaged in various duties around here."

"Ah yes. Thank Lieutenant Connally for me. My people are not used to flying in your Starfuries, but they are superior to our own flyers — may G'Quan blacken my tongue for saying so — and the bays here were designed for Starfuries. Her training is invaluable."

"A question…. why did you build the Starfury bays? Wouldn't designs for your own flyers be easier?"

"We cannot defy history, Captain. I pray you are not needed here for a while at least."

"So do I," Sheridan agreed. He reached out to touch the wall at his side, half afraid that it would disappear at his touch.

"So do I," he repeated softly, his heart many light years away.

"One…. last question," G'Kar said softly. "Has any of your crew experienced…. anything…. unusual?"

"Unusual? No, not that I'm aware of. I suppose David might know before I would, but…. no, I can't think of anything. Why?"

G'Kar waved an arm in negation. "Nothing. Just…. ghosts in the machine, so to say. Nothing serious."

"If you say so." Sheridan did not believe him.

They listened to him, unable to do anything else. Not just Minbari, but everyone there. Drazi guards, Brakiri clerks, Hyach customs officials. Even Taan Churok listened, an almost rapt expression on his face. Delenn was unable to tear herself away from the beauty and power of his words.

Even Delenn, who knew the truth about the one they knew as Valen, even she was helpless before the power of his oratory. His words fired and enraptured, captivated and liberated. They were the golden rain on the green fields, the silver skies, the shining stars at twilight.

And finally, the speech done, he bowed gently and walked out among his people, receiving the comforts of their touch, their prayers, and their blessings. All accepted beyond doubt that Jeffrey Sinclair was Valen, as indeed he was. Or, more accurately, as he would be a thousand years in the past.

It was his presence here which had done so much to bring Minbari attention to the United Alliance, even led as it was by an outcast such as Delenn.

"Pretty words," grunted Taan Churok. He sounded moved. Anyone would be, even a Drazi. He shook his head, as if attempting to rid himself of an annoying insect buzzing around him.

"Words from old," Delenn agreed softly. She could not remember the bulk of his speech — she doubted anyone could; it was the words, not the meaning which mattered — but she had recognised faint traces. This line, from the 'Times to Come' speech on Mount H'leya — that image from the triumphant arrival at Z'ha'dum — a metaphor first spoken at the first assembly of the Grey Council. Jeffrey Sinclair possessed all the memories of the Valen he would become, a thousand years before. They had been implanted into him by the Vorlons, erasing in the process almost everything that had made him Jeffrey Sinclair.