Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 3 : След на песке.
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"And with you…." She paused, unsure of what to call him. He had had no title in his earlier time, and 'Master' somehow did not seem appropriate.
He smiled, perhaps recognising her dilemma. "Delenn…. call me Jeffrey. It is a reminder of what I used to be. Perhaps of what I still am."
She nodded once, briefly. "Then be at peace…. Jeffrey."
It's tearing me apart!
Silence.
Voices. In his mind. In his soul.
His son. His wife. Where were they? He needed them. He was doing this for them…. wasn't he? A better place for them.
Running away. You're running away. Afraid of the future. You're running away!
No. Has to be done. Must be done. Do what's right. Do what must be done.
Running away.
Tearing…. me…. apart….
Gotta be one of the good guys….
…. 'cause there's way too many of the bad.
Tearing me ap….
Michael Garibaldi screamed as his body was torn in a million pieces, as his world exploded around him, and the voices stilled. Forever.
"Michael?" Garibaldi shook his head. "Are you all right?"
"Wha…. what?" he asked, disoriented. Who was talking to him? Who…?
"Are you all right?"
David. Of course. Commander Corwin. Two parts status report, three parts talk between friends. And yet…. something had….
Michael winced. For a moment he'd been somewhere else. Almost as if he were dreaming.
"Right, that's it. I'm calling Medlab." Garibaldi could see Corwin reaching for his link.
"No. No, don't worry. I'm fine. Really. Just…. must be a spot of migraine coming on. What were you saying again?"
"I was asking how Lianna was." Corwin did not look particularly convinced by the explanation.
"Oh, she's fine. Back on Sanctuary at the moment, of course. Looking after little Frank. Well, someone had to."
Corwin nodded. From what he remembered of the Captain's status report about this new…. Babylon 4 — and that was a hard concept to take — it had been a joint project between G'Kar and Bester. Some sort of rallying point, apparently. Some of Bester's people had come over from Sanctuary to supervise his involvement in the construction. Unfortunately Mary hadn't been one of them. At least not yet.
"And how's Frank? Must be…. nine months by now." Michael nodded. "Wow. Nine months. Doesn't time fly!"
"Yeah, a lot's happened since he was born."
"There's still a lot more going to happen. You mark my words."
"My, aren't we pessimistic."
"No." His tone was suddenly deadly serious. "No, certain."
"What? Did you suddenly become a prophet or something?"
"Something. Definitely something."
"And now, a repeat of the classic Reebo and Zooty film Howondaland Jones, Balgrog Hunter…."
Julie Musante sighed and switched off the viewscreen. There had been many hardships following the fall of Earth, but one of the most distressing, in her opinion anyway, was the lack of anything new on the screens these days. Repeats, more repeats and the news, and that was it.
She stretched, and silently debated between going to bed or clearing up after her dinner. At least the food options had improved recently, ever since President Clark had pulled off that 'diplomatic coup' with the Narns. Rationing had even been relaxed a little. Of course, all the food was Narn, but every silver lining had a cloud.
The question wasn't a hard one and bed won out again. Yawning, she had begun to make for the bedroom when her door chimed.
Unfortunately for Julie, not many people tended to ring at her door at this time of night, and the ones who did were not the people she preferred to be at her door at this time of night — i. e. the tall, dark and handsome.
"This is trouble," she muttered prophetically. "Who is it?"
"Security forces," came back a harsh voice. Julie started. Security? This must be bad.
"Open."
No sooner was the door open than five security officers rushed in. All were carrying ready PPGs and were looking less than pleased to be here. "What is this ab…?" Julie began to ask, before realising that they were ignoring her, and making a swift search of her room. "Hey!" she cried as one of them began opening her wardrobe.
"We apologise for the inconvenience, Miss Musante." She started, and saw a man walk in. He was dressed conservatively in a business suit, and had one hand in his trouser pocket. He stopped before Julie and bowed his head slightly. "A pleasure to meet you. My name is Morden."
"What's this all about?" Julie asked again. "Is this a raid of some sort? And who are you?"
A slight smile graced his face. It didn't help. He looked very…. charming. Too charming by far. "No, not a raid. I am a…. freelance consultant, let us say. For the moment I am carrying out some work for Interplanetary Expeditions, who need various…. skills and contacts I possess. This matter concerns them, and someone of your acquaintance."
One of the security guards came up to this…. Morden. "The place is clean, sir," he said. "She isn't here."
"Who isn't?" but Julie was ignored.
"Ah, well done, Jack. Take position now." The guard nodded, and Morden turned back to Julie. "As I was saying, this matter concerns someone of your acquaintance…. a Miss Catherine Sakai. You do know her, I believe?"
"Yes, I do. Why? Is she is in some of trouble?"
"That is…. one very diplomatic way of putting it, yes. She is in a great deal of trouble. It appears she has been doing some things she should not have been doing. Contact with alien governments for a start."
"What? That's im…." She looked at him closely. Something in his eyes seemed to bewitch her. For a moment it seemed as though they were shining a brilliant golden. "That's…." She was trying to focus. "That can't be right. Can it?"
"Oh, we are afraid it is. We also have reason to believe she may be coming here at some point tonight. Now, we will need you to do something when she arrives. Can we count on your help?"
"…. Yes…. yes, I'll do whatever you want me to."
He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Now there's an offer and a half. Very well…. this is what we need you to do…."