Voices - Vornholt John (читать хорошую книгу .TXT) 📗

Talia Winters awoke in her own quarters, lying in her own bed. She was even wearing the thick flannel nightgown that she liked to wear when she was feeling cold or ill. With tremendous relief, she realized that the horrible explosion had been a dream. Conference room nine wasn’t really in flames, and people weren’t dying.

It had been a weird dream, she thought, having Kosh in it, hooded aliens, and a bunch of people she didn’t know. But how much was dream, and how much wasn’t? Was Babylon 5 crawling with telepaths, or was she the only one? What time was it? Where was she supposed to be? As Talia began looking around her tidy quarters, she began to get a sinking feeling, as if she were slipping back into her nightmare.

For one thing, hanging on the closet door was the dress she had worn to the reception the night before. And if that had been real, maybe the budget meeting on Green-12 was real. And if that had really happened … well, it couldn’t have, it was too terrible to contemplate! It was just the sort of thing that her fevered imagination would concoct before a stressful day. She was probably late to her own panels.

Talia started to get out of bed; but something else caught her eye, and she gasped!

Standing perfectly still by the door was Commander Ivanova.

“I can’t believe it,” whispered Ivanova. “I was just about to leave.” She lifted her link to her mouth.

“Wait!” demanded Talia. She sat up in bed and wiped errant strands of blond hair off her face. “What’s happening? Why are you in my room?”

Ivanova took several strides across the small room and sat on the bed beside her to whisper, “Keep your voice down. You’ve got two Psi Cops outside your door, and I think they would as soon kill you as look at you. But there are two of Garibaldi’s people to keep an eye on them. Of course, all four of them are out there to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

Talia rubbed her eyes and tried to figure out what was happening. She decided to repeat the question until she got an answer. “Ivanova,” she said through gritted teeth, “why are you in my room?”

Ivanova cocked her head. “I volunteered to watch you. I had to see the woman who reportedly killed four Psi Cops and a military liaison.”

Now Talia buried her face in her hands and cried. She tried desperately to wake up again, to leave this nightmare for anything, anywhere else! But she couldn’t conjure up any other visions or memories that would drag her away from this tawdry scene. She was stuck here, and she couldn’t change it.

The commander activated her link. “Ivanova to medlab. Ms. Winters is awake now.”

“Thank you,” said Dr. Franklin. “I’ll be right there.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” insisted Talia.

“Careful what you say,” warned the officer. “You might want to talk to a counsel before you talk to me. I’ll have to report anything you say to Garibaldi.”

“But I didn’t kill anyone!” Talia wailed.

There was immediate pounding on the door, followed by a booming voice, demanding, “We want to see the prisoner!”

Ivanova shook her head glumly. “You’re in a load of trouble, Talia.”

The telepath slammed her fist into the bed and muttered, “I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t.” She looked up bleary-eyed. “The people who died … was Malten one of them?”

Ivanova shook her head. “Malten came through scot-free. Bombs are weird like that. Everybody who was sitting to the right of Mr. Bester got it. You would’ve gotten it, too, if you hadn’t left the room.”

“That’s crazy!” moaned Talia. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room!” 

There was more irate pounding on the door, but Ivanova ignored it. “Actually, the evidence is clear that you did take the bomb into the room. It was hidden in that slim handbag of yours.”

“No!” screamed Talia.

The door banged open, and it was Dr. Franklin fighting his way past two black-suited Psi Cops. “Stay back!” he ordered them. “She’s under my care!”

But one of the black-suited cops burst into the room with the doctor before the door shut. He was a muscular lad, still young, with pimples on his face and a scowl of hatred. “Why did you kill them? Why?”

“Get out of here at once!” snapped the doctor.

The Psi Cop pointed a black-clad finger at Talia. “We’ll do a deep scan on you. We’ll find out why. You know what we do to rogues!”

“Now!” ordered Franklin, balling his hands into a fist.

The young Psi Cop banged the panel to open the door then he stepped out into a din of angry voices. Talia held her hands over her ears and tried to shut them out, but the voices wouldn’t go away until the door finally shut.

Dr. Franklin knelt in front of the frightened woman and looked into her eyes with a small beam of light. She twisted away, still disoriented and hysterical. Finally Talia took a deep breath and told herself that she had to stay calm and face this. She gripped the sleeve of the doctor’s smock, holding it steady so that he could complete his examination.

“I didn’t set off a bomb,” she told the doctor.

“Guess what?” he replied. “It’s not my job to figure what you did or didn’t do. It’s my job to get you well. You were in shock after the bombing, so we sedated you. But physically you appear to be fine. Tell me immediately if you feel any pains anywhere. Otherwise, just get lots of rest. Or as much as they let you.”

Franklin stood up and shrugged helplessly. “Medlab is sort of crazy at the moment, so I had them bring you here. You could go to medlab if you wanted, but you might be more comfortable staying here.”

Talia wrung her hands and looked from Ivanova to the doctor. “Am I under arrest?”

Franklin looked back at the door and frowned. “I wouldn’t expect to be going anywhere real soon.”

He turned back to Talia and said sympathetically, “You rest, get something to eat, and we’ll give you a thorough exam later. I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t disturbed too much. I might be able to keep the newspeople out, but I don’t know about the rest of them.”

Franklin grabbed his bag. “I’ve got to get back to my prize patient.”

“Who is that?” asked Talia.

“Mr. Bester. It’s definite—he will live. Whether any of us in medlab will, with him as a patient, I don’t know.”

Franklin started to the door and turned. “Good luck to you, Ms. Winters. It’s been hell for all of us, but that will be over in a few days. Your hell is just starting, I’m afraid.”

The angry voices rose a pitch as he opened the door and ducked out, and Talia fought back the temptation to answer them all with a primal scream.

“Wrong,” she muttered. “They’re wrong.”

Ivanova sat on the bed beside her and shook her head in amazement. “I don’t know you all that well, Talia, but I never figured you to be a Martian terrorist.”

Talia half-laughed and half-cried at the absurdity of it. “Is that what they’re saying? I’ve never even liked Mars—a dusty old place with rabbit warrens for cities. All blue-collar, no decent restaurants.”

The telepath suddenly grew very somber. “Listen, I need to talk to the captain or Garibaldi and tell them I’m innocent. I need to clear this up.”

“You need to talk to legal counsel,” said Ivanova somberly. “You need someone to argue for you, and advise you. You’re looking at charges of mass murder, terrorism, and treason. On top of that, the Psi Cops might decide you’re a rogue. If they get custody of you …” She shuddered and couldn’t finish her thought.

Talia started to reach for Ivanova’s hands, but she stopped when she realized that neither one of them were wearing gloves. “Help me,” she begged. “You be my counsel. Command officers can, in an emergency.”

Ivanova leaped to her feet. “I don’t think I can. I wish you well, but I don’t think I can spend weeks on end talking to them. Besides, with charges this serious, defending you could become a career.”

“Please,” begged Talia. “Just until we see what’s going to happen.”

“Why me?” asked Ivanova.

“I need somebody who won’t be afraid of them.”

A firm knock sounded on the door, and the women looked up with a start. “It’s Captain Sheridan,” called a familiar voice. “And Mr. Garibaldi.”

Talia rubbed her eyes and pointed to her closet. “I’ve got a robe in there. And my gloves.”

Before she fetched the robe and the gloves, Ivanova hung up Talia’s evening gown from the night before. It seemed like another lifetime ago, thought the telepath, just those few hours. It was amazing how quickly your life could turn to junk.

Ivanova gave Talia her things with a brave smile. “Just stick to the truth.”

“That’s all I’ve got,” answered Talia, pulling on her gloves. She stood up and pulled off the nightgown, momentarily nude. Ivanova didn’t turn away. Talia slipped on the robe, and knotted it. Then she looked at Ivanova and waited for her to open the door.

Captain Sheridan and Mr. Garibaldi entered, both looking as if they had gone through their own set of traumas. Talia could see and hear the commotion outside the door, and a man in a black uniform was shaking his fist.

Garibaldi growled at them, “You’ll get your chance!”

“Garibaldi!” snapped Sheridan.

Mercifully, the door closed, ending the angry shouts, for the moment. Sheridan and Garibaldi took deep breaths to try to calm themselves, but their anxiety was more unnerving to Talia than the ridiculous charges against her.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, for no particular reason. It was doubtful they had come to rescue her, she told herself.

Sheridan tried to keep his voice even. “Ms. Winters, do you understand what’s happened?”

“I didn’t do it,” she claimed. “I didn’t take a bomb into that room.”

“Well, then,” said Garibaldi, “somebody slipped the bomb into your portfolio. My own forensic people will swear to that. We’ve got the residue of your handbag all over everything.”

“Plus,” said Sheridan, “you ran out just before the bomb detonated.”

Ivanova stepped between them. “Excuse me, Captain, is this an interrogation, or a trial? You have to let her tell her side of it.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” shouted Talia. “I was as surprised as anyone when that bomb went off!”

“Why did you get up and leave the room?” asked Sheridan.

“I didn’t feel well.” Talia frowned, knowing how lame that answer sounded. “It’s the truth.”