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

"Oh?" Durano said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, if the Gods don't exist, someone up there is out to get me."

Londo moved to the viewscreen in the other room, aware of Lennier standing protectively at the door, pointedly not looking at the viewscreen or making any attempt to listen. He was a good man…. for a Minbari. Londo looked at the viewscreen, at the face of his old friend, of the wise old advisor who had taken in a young, idealistic politician with delusions of grandeur.

"Malachi," he said, no hint of warmth in his voice. "What an unexpected surprise."

Malachi looked so tired. So old. Londo wondered if he looked the same. "Tell me, Londo. How would you like to come to the capital?"

* * *

She began to move, heading in the direction of what she hoped was a door. She had no idea of where she was, or, more importantly perhaps, where he was.

"It says you must die. It shows me where you are. You cannot run from me."

Kats grimaced in pain and tried to keep moving. Blood was pounding in her ears. The voice — his voice — was so loud.

"It says you must….

"…. beg for my forgiveness! You have done wrong. You have sinned and you will be punished."

Kalain's voice. Her outstretched arm came up against a wall and she paused, breathing harshly. For a moment she tried to be quiet, remaining still and motionless, but then she remembered Ashan's words. Whatever it was that was telling him to kill her, it was directing him. He knew where she was.

"I can see you. It can see you. I…. I don't want…. to do this. But it says I must. It says the good of my people depends on this. You followed him, you see. You didn't have to. Nobody made you. It was a mistake, the wrong decision, and now you must be punished for it. It says that it's all your fault."

He was near her now. She could hear his footsteps. She could smell him now as well. He smelled…. wrong, almost as if he were dead and decomposing. His words were flat and toneless.

Gulping in air, touching the wall for balance, she tried to move. A sharp pain burst in her shoulder and she stumbled. Something rolled beneath her foot and she fell.

A rough hand grabbed the collar of her robe, hauling her upwards. She let herself go limp, trying to remember the lessons Sinoval had tried to teach her. He had warned her that one day she would need to know how to fight, and how to kill. She had replied with a gentle smile that she had no intention of ever killing anyone.

She wished she had listened. All she could think of was Sinoval's face when he learned that she was dead.

The point of the knife came to rest at the bottom of her ribcage. Ashan pushed it slightly.

"It…. says that…. It says…. Minbari do not kill Minbari. It says that I must…. No. I am…. Minbari do not…. It…."

The pressure on the knife began to increase. Her robe became damp and warm, and she knew the knife had drawn blood. Ashan's grip on it had become weaker, however. He seemed to be arguing with himself.

"You are Minbari," she said, trying to force the words through the pain. "Minbari do not…." She cried out as the knife was jogged slightly, cutting a deep gouge across her skin.

"Silence…. You are a worker. You…. do not…. matter…. It says that you…. It…. says…."

She twisted her body and slid aside, crying out as the knife sliced across her ribcage and her side. She could feel Ashan losing his balance and hear him falling. Scrambling to her feet, she did not head blindly in any direction, but began clawing desperately for the knife. Her right hand found it, and as she awkwardly pulled it up through bleeding fingers she felt his hand slam down on top of her own.

"Workers…. die…. You…. must…."

He forced her hand up, crushing her fingers on to the hilt. His foot lashed out against her knee and she gave way, crashing backwards to the floor, but still she maintained her hold on the knife. She could feel him rising over her, bending the knife downwards.

"Minbari do not kill Minbari," she whispered, a great dizziness sweeping over her. "Listen to me, Ashan. Please…. fight it…."

"I can't. It says…. It…. says…."

"Listen to yourself. Minbari do not kill…."

The knife slid downwards a little further. "I…. can't…. I…. I…."

He suddenly jerked his hands, forcing the knife upwards. Kats, unable to free her hand from the hilt, added unwitting momentum.

She felt the knife slide into his chest and heard a slight gurgle. His fingers fell stiff and she was able to wrench her hand from the hilt, but not before his blood poured over her fingers.

She rolled aside just in time to prevent his body falling on her.

For a moment there was a still nothingness, and then the pain from her injuries hit home in one shocking burst and she cried out under the onslaught. The full horror of what she had done engulfed her. "Ashan," she whispered. "Ashan. Are you…?" It was useless. He was dead.

"Killed another fine Minbari, worker slut!"bellowed Kalain in her mind. " Beg forgiveness!"

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm…." She closed her eyes and rolled over, climbing to her hands and knees. "No. You're not here. I know you're not here." She crawled forward, wincing from the pain of the wounds on her arm and body.

"Z'ondar!" Light filled the room as a door was thrown open and a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. It moved forward with a gait she had never seen before. It raised a weapon that looked very much like a fighting pike.

It hissed out words in a twisted, sibilant language she did not recognise. "Z'ondar," it then said again. The word was Minbari, but one which she did not know. "Z'ondar."

Shaking, she managed to climb to her feet. "Who are you?" she asked softly. "I am Kats, of the worker caste of the Minbari. I…. I mean you no harm."

It began clicking and a strange expression passed over its alien face. "Do you…. revere the Z'ondar?" it asked haltingly, in an erratic worker caste dialect. "Do you remember…. his ways?"

"Who is the Z'ondar?"

It hissed something in its own language and darted forward, raising its weapon. It looked angry, very angry. Kats tried to avoid its attack, but she was too weak. She fell backwards, landing on Ashan's body.

Something beneath her hissed.

The alien's charge suddenly stopped and it dropped its weapon. Black ichor spilling from its eyes, it fell face forward on to the ground, a sharp knife sticking from its back.

"My lady?" asked a voice from the door. "Are you all right? I…. I can't see you."