Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.
Шрифт:
"We have been contacted by two merchant ships within the last three hours. The main jump gate into the Narn system appears to be inoperable. There are no communications with Narn itself, or with any of the satellites or stations within the system. Either all the satellites have been damaged in some way, or the entire system is being jammed."
"The Shadows?" she whispered.
"I have sent a Dark Starto investigate. They have not been able to open a jump point into the system. The captain reported back that it was as if there was some force shield blocking the exit from hyperspace."
"Have you heard anything from Commander Ta'Lon?"
"No. The last I was aware he was active within the Narn system, but he does move around a great deal. It is likely he is in a position where he must maintain radio silence."
"And G'Kar?"
"Likewise."
"Is there no communication with the entire system?"
"None at all."
Fear gripped her, but she sought to calm it. The beating in her ears grew louder and louder. "Send a squadron of Dark Stars to each jump gate adjacent to the Narn system. Keep trying to open a jump point into the system itself. Take at least one science vessel in each group. See if you can contact the Vorlon Ambassador. They know a great deal more about hyperspace and jump gates than we do. And put every Alliance base in the sector on full alert."
"All done," he said carefully. Delenn looked at him. He was holding something back. Kulomani was a very accomplished liar when he wanted to be, and she was only just beginning to realise. "I was wondering if we should try to contact General Sheridan."
"No," she said firmly.
"But...."
"No," she interrupted, just as firmly. "He is.... resting. I will contact him when I am convinced we need him."
"As you command. I will contact you when we learn something new."
The comm screen went blank and Delenn sat back, her mind racing. It was several moments before it occurred to her that she had not asked him what the Vorlon Ambassador had said.
Sinoval the Accursed, Chaos Bringer and Legacy of the Dark Masters, looked down at the Tuchanq kneeling before him and resisted the urge to shout at them.
Moreil's fanaticism had irritated him, but not excessively. Moreil would provide him with a mini-army of his own. Sinoval trusted the Z'shailyl. Devotion such as that could not be a deception. He remembered the last message the Shadows had left him, a plea for hatred and revenge. He disliked being used in that way, but he would take whatever resources he was given. As for some of Moreil's.... intentions for the future, they could wait.
No, he had a nagging feeling the Tuchanq would prove to be the more serious problem. Although in an entirely different way.
"Who is your leader?" he asked.
One of them rose. He thought it was female, although as thin as they were it was sometimes hard to tell. Her soul was a mass of conflicting colours and images. He could see the fading signs of long-standing madness, now replaced by a slowly-growing serenity.
He was thankful for the two Tuchanq within the Well of Souls. They had known a song that had undone the madness.
"This one was once called nuViel Roon, and once led, before the songlessness and the long dark fell upon us." Her voice had a remarkable rhythmic quality, a lilt and rise to the words. Each syllable seemed to be sung with its own unique voice, a cry of joy to the galaxy. "This one may still be the leader, saviour, until such time as another may be chosen."
Sinoval nodded. "You know who I am?"
"You are our saviour, our singer, our blessed restorer of what once was. What else do we need to know?"
"I am a warrior, and a leader of warriors. I am going to war with an ancient and powerful race. You may think of them as Gods. I need allies and I need an army."
"You have restored to us the Song. Command us, Saviour, and we shall obey."
And that would be useful, he thought acidly, if he needed a massed horde of cannon fodder. "There are things I must know first. Why were you allied with these reivers?"
"It was the long dark, Saviour," nuViel Roon said, after a long pause. "Some years ago, one of our number, noMir Ru, fell under the long dark. She was driven out into the wilderness. We tried to hunt her, but she had grown wise and stealthy during the war, and she hid, taking more of us with each passing day. The long dark claimed more and more of us until there was anarchy. Our skies, already filled with the smoke and ash of our war with the Narn, began to be filled with the d?bris of our war with each other. The Song died everywhere across our world. When the last of us fell to the long dark, the Song died."
Some of the Tuchanq, still kneeling behind her, began to croon mournfully.
"noMir Ru ruled us throughout the long dark. The Narn came to us and spoke with her at length. She was convinced that the Centauri were to blame for our situation. noMir Ru gathered our army, using ships and weapons we could cannibalise or steal, and we went to the stars to seek our revenge. We allied ourselves to the Brotherhood for that purpose."
"And where is this noMir Ru now?"
A mournful hymn ran as an undercurrent in nuViel Roon's voice, a melody taken up and supported by the others. "Dead. She fell during the battle. She died lost and insane and consumed by the long dark."
"Ah," Sinoval said. A pity. This noMir Ru might have been a useful subordinate, if her madness could have been controlled. What he had seen of her strategy for the attack on Centauri Prime demonstrated a ruthlessness he could have used. "Is this all of your people?"
"No, Saviour. Many others remain on our world. Some were too touched by the long dark to follow any commands, and they remain lost. Others could not fight, and remained to build more ships and weapons. They are still Songless, as we were before your touch. The Land is still Songless."
"Where is your world? You will take me there. I wish to see your dead world for myself."
"And then, Saviour? Do you desire that we go to war alongside you?"
"We shall see," Sinoval mused. "We shall see."
They moved quickly, as quickly as they could, carrying boxes and bundles of their valuables. Many did not want to believe, but the words of their Prophet had convinced them. The death of their world was at hand.
Every ship available had been press-ganged to this service. Cargo was emptied from merchant ships. Weapon storage was stripped from military vessels. Short-range flyers were commandeered. Everything was cannibalised.