Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.

Уильямс Гарэт Д.

"Humans! They'll believe anything." The Narn was looking around nervously. Everyone seemed to be paying attention to the events in the corner.

"Were you followed?"

"I don't think so. I backtracked and double-tailed and went into several pubs and all sorts. If anyone can follow me through all that, then we're both already dead. I've got it."

"Good." Beneath the table, in two casual motions, a data crystal was passed over and hidden.

"That's all I could get, understand? But it is enough. It's everything you asked for."

"I shall commend your name to my master."

"Don't. Do not even mention me at all. You never saw me."

"Very well." He nodded, keeping a careful eye on the corner. Everyone seemed occupied with what was going on there, but the voice in his head had fallen very quiet. It was not simply that he could not hear it, but that it was not talking.

"I'm done," the Narn said, rising.

Another Narn appeared from nowhere to block his path. Female, slightly built and dressed in clothes long past their best, she did not look out of place, and yet.... His contact blanched and stumbled backwards.

"Thenta Ma'Kur," she whispered, reaching out with one hand. She caught his contact on the shoulder and he fell, not even having had a chance to scream.

Somewhere, in the part of his mind that was divorced from reality, the part that he had trained not to care, he admired the precision of the murder. No one had noticed but him, and the death would appear entirely natural, perhaps the result of too much alcohol, or some tragic medical condition. He did not know Narn physiology, but he recognised the nature of the attack, and he knew a nerve strike when he saw one.

"I apologise," the assassin whispered to him. "You have involved yourself in a matter that is not your concern."

"An unfortunate reason for death."

"Life is like that." She moved carefully around the table.

Both of them exploded into motion at the same instant, and again he admired her strategy. He could not fight this battle as stealthily as she could, and if he was seen getting into a fight, everyone else in the bar would turn on him and he would be beaten to death as surely as the Drazi was being. Most people would not pay any attention to his death, just another alien in the wrong part of town.

Still, life was made up of risks.

His denn'bok appeared instantly in his hands and extended upwards, smashing through the table, aiming for her heart. She was too good for that to be a surprise killing blow, and she stepped backwards and aside. Still, it did enough to keep her from completing her strike.

Leaping upwards, he vaulted over the ruined table just as the cries of anger erupted from the corner. The assassin pointed at him and shouted loudly. "An alien! He killed one of us!"

There was a rumble of anger and a mass of Narns charging in his direction. Taking care to sidestep the woman's attack — nowhere near as clumsy as she made it appear to the others — he sprinted for the door, long dark cloak trailing behind him. One of the Narns tried pushing a chair into his path, but he simply jumped over it.

The air was hot and dusty on his skin, but he had known worse, and he continued to run. He would lose most of them easily, he knew that, but the assassin was another matter.

It was fortunate that he had spent many months studying this district of G'Khamazad. It was always wise to know the land in which you might be called upon to fight. He knew all the paths to take to his intended meeting — the quickest, the most roundabout, the highest, the lowest, the most easily concealed.

He took a combination of them all, occasionally doubling back on himself, or moving at a tangent. He had lost the crowd, he knew that, but maybe not the assassin. Still, if he could make his rendezvous quickly and then move on, the information might get away safely and he could lead the assassin on a wild gok chase.

He was rounding a corner, still running at full pelt, when a Narn child walked directly into his path. She looked up at him, eyes wide with horror, frozen to the spot.

Acting on split-second reflexes he threw himself aside, landing awkwardly, bruising his shoulder and side. He quickly patted his pouch and was relieved to find the data crystal intact.

The girl had fallen over. Evidently he had merely clipped her. "Are you all right?" she asked nervously. Obviously she had seldom seen the likes of him before.

"I am fine, little one," he said, rising quickly and looking around for the assassin.

"I'm not little," she said, with a trace of indignation. "It's my naming ceremony soon."

"I am glad to hear it." There! A flicker of movement. He went from a standstill to sprint in one instant. The girl made to say something, but whatever it was, he did not hear. He was too busy running.

That had cost him far too long. He did not have much time, and the pain in his knee and shoulder was slowing him down. There was no other way. He had to make it to the rendezvous point as swiftly as possible and pass over the information.

Just when the abandoned house was in view, she swept down from the shadows, a long knife in her hand. She thrust it at him and he jumped back, drawing and extending his denn'bok. The longer reach would give him an advantage, but not enough.

Hopping backwards on to one foot, she hurled the dagger directly at his head. He only just parried it with his pike, and in that instant she moved forward, another knife in her hand. Frantically he kept her at bay, but at the cost of his balance. Stumbling backwards, he was forced into desperate defensive action.