Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам.
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They were stronger together than they were apart, but that was still not enough.
Lethke moved forward, deliberately placing himself between the Vorlon and Taan Churok. The Drazi swore at him, but Lethke did not seem to notice. G'Kar doubted that his friend could hear anything, standing bathed in that light.
"Please," Lethke said. "Please...." The word was pitiful, a sob, an admission of utter powerlessness. Lethke, a diplomat, a nobleman, a Merchant–Prince of Brakir, was discovering what G'Kar had first learned that one day so many decades ago.
Just what it meant to be helpless.
"Let us try for peace," Lethke sobbed. "It's what I've always worked for...."
The Vorlon's terrible voice spoke, chill and final, although there was now not even the flashing of the eye stalk to give it some semblance of emotion.
<There is no mercy for traitors.>
The light filled the room, and Lethke's body was thrown backwards. G'Kar knew he was dead even before he left the floor. What struck the far wall was a charred, smoking corpse, a twitching heap of ash and blasted bones.
One of Lethke's dead eyes was looking directly at him, but G'Kar could not tell if it expressed pity or blame.
Kulomani reacted next, grabbing his PPG to join Taan. Both of them fired, neither afraid. Their blasts were merely absorbed by the flashing mass of light that the Vorlon had become. It was massive, truly huge, too big by far for the room. One tentacle struck a wall, which shattered with a crack and the smell of burning metal.
G'Kar shifted his gaze to G'Kael, who had also reacted quickly, dropping down under the table and rolling behind a makeshift barrier of chairs. He looked up at G'Kar and then at the hole in the wall. Above them lights danced and whirled as the Vorlon swam sinuously in the air.
G'Kar could see the muscles tense in G'Kael's body, and then, with careful timing, he sprang for the hole, scrabbling through it in one smooth motion schooled by years of careful preparation. G'Kar knew about life amongst the Kha'Ri, especially what it took to be their spymaster. G'Kael had always taken pains to be ready for just such a situation. He was as physically fit as it was possible to be.
A tentacle curled around his waist in mid–air and jerked him backwards. His head struck the ceiling with impossible speed and with the sick sound of bones crunching and veins exploding, his body dropped to the floor at G'Kar's feet, limp and all but decapitated.
Taan Churok had tried to run for the door as this was happening, continuing to fire as he ran. One part of the Vorlon's vast, serpentine bulk lowered itself on to him, and as it touched him bolts of lightning crackled through it, and through him. His PPG exploded, there was a burst of light and energy, and he fell to the floor, a blackened, smoking hole in his chest.
The table flew backwards into Kulomani, smashing him into the far wall. G'Kar heard the sound of fifty bones breaking in unison, and Kulomani slumped, his mouth filled with blood.
Durano remained, standing quietly a few paces back from where he had been sitting, his hands folded behind his back. With a complete absence of terror G'Kar did not know whether to admire or fear, he said calmly:
"May I remind you, sir, that I am a lawfully appointed Ambassador of my Government and am as such subject to all the rules regarding fair trial and due process."
The Vorlon's body continued to swirl and swim. The voice that came from it was almost screaming.
<Your laws are nothing. Our laws are all that matter.>
Two tentacles curled around Durano.
The Centauri blinked once, and then died.
G'Kar could feel the Vorlon looking at him.
<We have many laws, but the first is the simplest.>
One tentacle waved menacingly in front of his face. G'Kar could feel the heat of the energy radiating from it, the sparks of electricity shooting through the room.
<We are your Masters, and you shall have none other before us.
<You will obey us.>
obey
That is the nature of power.... to wield it necessitates abominable actions. You cannot think of the one, or even of the few. You have to think of the many, and if that means sending good people to die, then so be it. If that means letting bad people live, then so be it.
I am a leader, and that means I do what must be done.
I can see you there. Babylon Five, shining beacon in space. The hopes and dreams of so many billions of people....
A dream built on futility, on weakness, on death.
A dream built of paper and glue and hope.
And I am the torch.
And these are the tools I am to use.
Marrain. A warrior who betrayed his lord and his love. A warrior who let his enemies live for his own revenge and killed his greatest friend. A man driven by madness and a lust for war.
Marrago. A leader who betrayed his people for the sake of his people. A patriot who sold his world into slavery with the best of intentions. A man driven by the need to die.
Moreil. A monster and a murderer who venerates me as the saviour of his Dark Masters. He will obey me without thought and he will send millions to their deaths in my name.
I do not think we are so different after all, Valen. I know your mistakes just as surely as I know mine, and like you, I am forced to walk a dark road for the good of the many.
But you had Derannimer.... Even she betrayed you in the end, although I doubt if you ever knew it. Or maybe you did.