Гэрет Уильямс - Темное, кривое зеркало. Том 5 : Средь звезд, подобно гигантам Страница 22

And they would find her.

Breathing out slowly, she reached out with her mind, mentally prepared for the onslaught that would follow. The screams that came rushing at her when she lowered her blocks threw her back. Her head struck the wall behind her and she felt a dampness in her hair.

A voice…. who are you help me you must help me where am I who am I you must help me are you trapped here who are you are you real where do you come from why can I hear you there are so many here help us help us all you must help us you must get a message out someone will help us it hurts here it hurts so much I don't know who I am I don't know who are you who am I….

The thoughts did not stop. They rushed out in a torrent of fear and anger and desperation. Talia ignored the throbbing pain at the back of her skull and concentrated, fighting to winnow down the terror, to find the core personality within.

My name is Talia Winters, she said. Who are you?

I don't know I don't know are you alive are you real are you free please talk to me please are you there

I am here. Yes, I am real. I am free.

Oh thank God thank God thank God you are real help me get me out of here help me please

I am trying to. I will free all of you. Every last one.

Please help us out of here please I can hear them all screaming all they ever do is scream until the light comes and then there's nothing until the screams come back help us

There is someone who can help us. I need to get to him. If your crew board this ship they will find me.

Crew who are they I know of no crew…. oh, the ants, are they ants I think I can feel things moving around inside me some of them speak sometimes are they speaking to me who am I

If you let them board this ship they will find me. Please, stop them.

I can't I'm scared I do what the light tells me to I just do what the light tells me to

Where is the light now?

I don't know not here it passes through us all I hear them screaming as it reaches them and then they stop oh they stop and silence is terrible

Then do not let the crew on board, if you can. Please.

I don't know how I just do as the light says

The light is your enemy.

The light is…. What is the light?

The light is your enemy. Fight it.

How?

Remember your name.

I don't know it. Who am I?

Remember something. Anything. Your childhood, your first love, your first kiss, your parents, siblings, anything. Remember something.

Blue. A colour. Blue is a colour.

Yes, it is.

There was a…. a blanket. It was blue. I was safe there, beneath it. There were…. things outside there. Things in the darkness waiting for me, but the blue…. it kept them away. I couldn't hear them under the blue.

Yes. Remember that. The blue kept you safe.

It did. It kept me safe.

Then there is blue all around you. The light cannot get through the blue. Nothing can.

But…. the light….

You are safe when the blue is there.

Yes. I was safe.

Then create the blue. Place it around you, and you will be safe.

Yes. Yes! The blue is here. I can see it. They can't…. they can't get me here.

Then you're safe. Please, stop your crew boarding us.

I can do that. There. We cannot move any more. I'm safe.

Talia did not need to confirm what he had said. Here, especially here, she could scan the thoughts of those around her. The smugglers were puzzled, but with a surge of optimism. The captain was ordering the tech to re-check the instruments. The results were the same.

Thank you, she said.

I am safe. The blue is here.

Yes, you are safe. Do you know your name?

I…. No. No…. who am I?

You will remember in time. Keep the blue there.

Yes. The blue is here. It keeps me safe.

Do you know my name?

You…. you are an angel. Talia! That is your name. You are Talia. You have a name. You are Talia.

Yes, I am Talia.

Where are you?

Everywhere. Don't worry. You can talk to me whenever you want. Tell me when you remember your name.

Yes, I will. I will tell you when I remember. I am safe here.

The ship was moving away quickly, as quickly as they could muster. The smugglers, it seemed, were not about to turn their backs on this unexpected good fortune. The crew of the Dark Star was frantically trying to correct their ship, which had seemingly failed on them.

I am safe.

As they left, Talia listened for over an hour to the telepath's wonder at his newfound freedom. She did not have the heart to contemplate the consequences when the Vorlons learned what had happened.

For a moment, however short, he had felt safe. That was as much as anyone could ask for.

And once she got to Proxima, she hoped she would be able to make all of them safe. Every last one of them.

You've come back to me then, brother.

Dexter looked at the thing before him again, trying to hold back the wave of revulsion that swept through him. Its…. otherness seemed more apparent now, as if it were losing any grasp of what made it seem even slightly human.

"Don't call me that," he hissed.

It is what we are. Brothers. We are both blessed or cursed with this talent, but more than that. We have the ambition, the drive, the determination to do what must be done. All you have to do is open your eyes and you will see that. We are very much alike.

"We're nothing alike."

I can hear you like this, you realise.

"I know. I'm talking to you like this."

You do not like me, do you brother? Whyever not?

"Who did you used to be? Before this was done to you?"

Does it matter?

"Humour me."

I do not remember. It is not important. I would have been a nobody, a nothing, lost and alone and unimportant. Why do you ask?

"You don't understand, do you? That's why I can't stand you. You look like us, but that's it. You're dead inside. You're something animating a human, something that moves like a human and looks like a human and even talks a little like a human, but you aren't. You're nothing like a human."

No, brother. I am better than that.

"You're nothing at all."

Then why come back to me, brother? Why not remain in your apartment, drinking and staring at the ceiling? Why not remain there dreaming of her? If you hate me so much, why come back to me? It still bothers you, doesn't it? What you did to her.

"Stop that! It's nothing to do with you."

Your thoughts are quite plain, brother. There are two women in your mind, each one fighting for your heart. The first is…. human. Pretty, isn't she? I remember liking blonde women once, when such things actually mattered to me. As for the other, we both know who she is, and what you did to her. Every night, brother. Every night you dream about her dying, and about your hand on the trigger.

"Stop that!"

Come with us. Join us. There's no guilt here. You won't even remember her. And as for the other, she'll be a part of us too. Once we capture her — and we will, brother. Believe us in that. Once we have her she will be a part of us as well, and you will be with her always.

"Stop it!"

You will be with all of us always.

"Stop it! Listen to me, you monster. I've been to see someone. I think you know who."

So, when will I be free of this cell then, brother? There are things for me to do.

"You won't be. Ever. He wanted you released, but that isn't going to happen. You're going to be put on trial for assault, and you and all those like you are going to be dragged out into the light."

Ah. You will not reconsider, brother? Not at all?

"No."

A shame. Well, then. We will meet again, brother, I trust. I hope you understand a little better then.

"What do you…? No!" But it was too late.

The thing started to collapse around him, the edges of its image blurring and then fading, the features of its face melting, running into one and then leaving nothing but a smooth, hairless, featureless orb. Even that began to crumble inwards.

The disintegration could not have taken more than fifteen seconds, but it seemed far longer to Dexter as he watched it helplessly, staring in utter silence as the figure collapsed, until finally nothing remained.

Save for a voice in his mind.

We will meet again, brother. For now…. goodbye.

He stumbled to the corner of the room, and then fled. The voice was still speaking to him, echoing from the corners of his mind. It was still there when he left the building, still there when, for the second time that night, he tried to fall asleep into blissful oblivion.

There were a million voices, speaking as one, but on a million different subjects. There were a million sets of eyes, seeing the same things, but with different understanding. There were a million different races, each with dreams and goals and hopes and memories of its own.

There were a million souls, all fused into one essence, the amalgamation of an elder race's folly and arrogance and hubris.

They were the Well of Souls, and as their very essence infused Sinoval, he felt ready to confront the Vorlon essence that spoke through Sheridan.

This had been the reason for this meeting. He had always planned to talk with Sheridan, but he had not truly expected his words to be heard. No, he had wanted to speak with the Vorlons, to speak with those who now truly ruled the galaxy.

He had known the Vorlons would take an interest in the movements of the First Ones. They had been watching the elder races for millennia, a careful and wary eye on those whose power and age and wisdom matched their own. They would know when the First Ones began to move, and soon enough they would know who was calling them.

After all, why else would Sinoval choose to meet with emissaries of the First Races here? Golgotha was hidden, yes, abandoned in the depths of hyperspace where few could come, but a place that the elder races could navigate with ease.

But more than that, this place carried history, carried mythology, carried a legacy.

And it carried countless ghosts and spirits. A reminder of what it was they faced.

Sinoval wanted them all to remember.

And he wanted the Vorlons to know he was not afraid of them.

<This place is forbidden,> spoke the voices through Sheridan's mouth. Sinoval smiled wryly, certain he was addressing the Vorlon Lights Cardinal themselves.

Which is why it was chosen, replied Sinoval, channelling the power of the Well of Souls through himself. He was the Primarch Majestus et Conclavus after all, the focus of the power of the Well of Souls. He was their voice, their will, their personification made flesh. Some things will no longer be forbidden. Some secrets will no longer be hidden.

<We will find you. You cannot hide from us forever.>

We do not intend to. And you are welcome to try to find us. We will return when we are ready.

<We have won. The galaxy is ours now. Order is everywhere. Within a century, there will be no memory that anything else ever existed.>

You have not won yet, not while there is opposition to you, not while it yet grows and prospers. With every day that passes, another will take up arms against you, and then another.

<We will destroy them all. All who defy us will die.>

Then in the end you will rule a galaxy only of the dead, and the dead are ours.

<No, for we will destroy you as well.>

We are eternal. We are what lives on beyond the prison of flesh. We are what endures. We are everything you are trying to take from them, and we will not permit that.

<You are forbidden to interfere. Have you not already done enough here, in this plane?>

Some things will no longer be forbidden. We have remained silent and hidden for too long. We chose to emerge now, when our prophet arose. You could not destroy him, the Lords of Chaos could not shape him. He belongs to us, now and for eternity. He would always have been ours. Even had you succeeded, he would have been reborn in a thousand centuries and he would be ours once more.

<The future will be as we shape it. We are everything. We are order. We are stability.>

You are nothing. You will destroy what you set out to preserve. The Lords of Chaos saw this. Why do you not see it?

<We are the salvation. We are the glory and the light.>

We leave this place to you. Think on what you have found here, then and now. We will gather the Others in another place.

<They will not follow you.>

They will not follow you. Think of this place, Lords of the Cold and the Ice and the Death of Spirit. Think on this place, and remember why you are doomed to defeat.

The folds of time and space opened. The Vorlons, who could see this as well as anyone, could only howl in fury as Sinoval faded from the place of the dead. Bound by this prison of useless flesh, they could not follow, not in this form, and to bring themselves forth fully would destroy it.

For one instant they thought of doing precisely that, of tearing apart this sack of flesh and bones and manifesting completely, of opening a gateway and allowing their true forms to follow through to the Well of Souls.