Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.

"If you choose to take it. You will also be given a full state funeral, your place in the Hall of Renown, and…. immunity for your commanders."

"And if I don't? What if I decide it might be more entertaining to…. shatter the scabbard on this little fiction of yours."

Marrago did not blink, did not hesitate, did not miss a beat. "Then you will die anyway. And so will your wife, and your daughter, and her son. How old is he now? No more than a year, is he? Your first grandson…. you must be very proud."

Valo spun around. "You bastard!"

Marrago did not stop. "All those men who elected to follow you will be stripped of their rank and tried as traitors to the Republic — and make no mistake, they will all be executed. Your entire House will be purged, and your name removed from history."

"You bastard!"

"We are creating a new Republic here, Valo. We are in…. dire straits. A certain harshness is necessary for the good of all, would you not say?"

Valo sank, falling back on to the couch. "I…. I want to be able to write a letter…. to my wife and my daughter."

"Of course. You have everything you need, and I will ensure it is delivered to them. I will…. have to read it first, of course."

"You will…. you will not let them know. They had nothing to do with this."

Marrago nodded. "You have my word, Valo," he said softly. "From one soldier to another."

"I…. I can believe you, Marrago. Once I have written these letters, I will take your damned poison, and if you or the Emperor break your word, then my ghost will haunt you for the rest of eternity."

"Everything I have told you today is true." Marrago bowed, and turned to the door. "Goodbye, Valo. May the Gods have mercy on you." He knocked at it, and the guards outside pushed it open.

"Marrago, wait!"

"Yes?" He did not turn around.

"Did Mollari come up with this whole little plan?"

"Yes…. yes…. he did."

Valo began to laugh. "Then the Republic might just survive after all. I underestimated him."

"We all did. Goodbye."

"Yes…." he looked at the closed door. "Goodbye."

* * *

What is he thinking? Just…. what is he thinking?

Ambassador David Sheridan could not tell, and that irritated him. He had always been able to read people as easily as a book. One of many skills acquired from long years as a diplomat. And yet here, on one of his most important tasks yet, so many of his skills were failing him.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Ambassador," President Clark said sincerely. "I hope you'll be able to return to us soon."

"I shouldn't be gone for more than a few months at most, Mr. President," he said smoothly. "I am afraid I am needed at Z'ha'dum for consultation with our associates. I have been away from there for too long and they wish a status report and…. other matters. Important work, yes, but nothing dangerous, certainly."

Clark gave an odd little laugh. "No, of course not. We couldn't lose our Ambassador, could we?" He smiled, and chuckled to himself. "Still, I understand that you must do as your…. associates request. What if…. I need to get in touch with them urgently?"

"Oh, there is nothing to worry about there, Mr. President. Most of my aides will be remaining here, as will the Zener attached to our Sciences Divisions. They will all be able to get in touch with Z'ha'dum at a moment's notice should anything major require our attention." This was all information the President should have been given of course. Standard diplomatic protocol, but this was anything but standard, and Sheridan had begun withholding information from Clark the instant he discovered the man's Keeper was not working as it should.

"However, Mr. President, I must say that I do not expect anything major to happen soon. This will be a time for rebuilding and consolidating positions. Our agents do not expect any sort of major action by any of our main adversaries until the end of the year, at least."

"More than enough time for us to hunt down and finish off Sinoval, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh…. more than enough time, Mr. President, but I would be…. wary of antagonising him overtly. He can be a very dangerous opponent when cornered, as we have seen." And more to the point his associates wanted Primarch Sinoval very much alive. He was far more use to them alive and properly channelled than he could be dead.

"Well, our generals will be able to attend to that." Clark rose to his feet. "Good luck, Ambassador, and a safe and speedy return to us. This place will…. hardly seem the same without you." He extended his hand.

Sheridan took it. "I will miss Proxima greatly, but my duties carry me elsewhere. Goodbye for now, Mr. President."

As he left, he resumed running through his itinerary for the next few months in his mind. Reports at Z'ha'dum and consultations with his colleagues in other fields. The engagement at Proxima 3 had been a major turning point and future events had to be steered in appropriate directions. And after Z'ha'dum a trip to somewhere else, for a very important task.

He almost scowled. Of all the places he had been to in his career this was the one he wished to see the least. He was not looking forward to going to Kazomi 7, that was beyond doubt.

* * *

The Darkness is coming.

Lord Kiro sat alone in the place where his aunt had been murdered. His wounds did not pain him any longer. The mark of the brands seared on to his body had become an illumination, not a torture. He had looked into the hateful faces of his tormentors and been renewed.

The Darkness is coming.

Ladira had wished to see him a few hours before the attack. He had not been home for very long, and he was tired. He was also angry with Lord Jarno, and had been musing on a plan for a counterattack against the Court. He had reacted to her invitation with annoyance, but he had gone promptly enough.

She had had a prophecy for him. He had listened, confused, not understanding a word, but then he had shrugged and left. She had said very little of substance to or about him. While her prophecies to others were quite accurate, those directed at her nephew had been universally gibberish.