Deathstalker Honor

by Simon R. Green

  "I didn't say that!"

  "If it's so important, I'm coming with you."

  "Evie, you can't. You're in no condition to go anywhere. And I think Julian and I need to be alone for this. You get some rest. I'll be back soon, I promise."

  "Finlay, if you leave me now, I won't be here when you get back. I mean it, Finlay."

  He left anyway, as both of them had known he would. Finlay Campbell never could turn down a call to action.

  Back in his old home once again, Julian Skye turned away from the deactivated viewscreen. He felt cold and empty and very tired. Only a few days ago his life had made sense. It had been ordered, secure, even routine. Now everything he'd ever cared for was gone. Everything but BB Chojiro. But there wasn't time to feel sad, or sorry. There were things he had to do, preparations that had to be made, before Finlay arrived.

  Julian moved over to the low wooden table by the fire, and picked up the small silver casket waiting there. Its lid held the Family crest. His father had used it as a snuffbox. Julian had used it for other purposes, back in his rebel days. He opened the casket and took out a single black capsule, almost as big as his fingernail. He hefted it in his hand for a moment, and then went looking for a glass of wine. Something that size was going to be hard to swallow, and he'd always had trouble with pills. But he managed it eventually, with the aid of a glass and a half of wine, and a certain amount of straining. It felt decidedly uncomfortable going down, but he was beyond caring about things like that.

  A single black capsule. Just a little something to hold him together while he talked with BB Chojiro. He hoped he wouldn't need it, but there was always the chance he would.

  He went and sat down in the parlor, and waited for Finlay to arrive. It took just under an hour, and when the doorbell rang, Julian was still sitting there. He hadn't moved. He went to answer the door himself. He'd given the servants the rest of the evening off. He didn't want any witnesses. He opened the front door to Finlay, and the two of them nodded awkwardly to each other. Julian led the way back to his parlor. They sat down on facing chairs before the banked fire and looked at each other.

  "I never meant for you to find out," said Finlay. "I knew it would hurt you."

  "You killed my brother, Auric."

  "Yes, I did. I killed a lot of people in the Arena."

  "He fought well. You could have just wounded him. The crowd would have turned up their thumbs for him."

  "He fought too well. He'd had armor implanted under his skin, servomechanisms in his muscles. I really thought he was going to kill me. So I stopped him with a sword thrust to the only part of him that wasn't armored: his eye."

  "You were the Masked Gladiator. Undefeated Champion of the Arena. You could have found a way to defeat him without killing him if you'd wanted to."

  "Maybe. I don't know. There isn't time to think about things like that in the Arena. It's kill or be killed. Your brother knew that."

  "Auric. His name was Auric."

  "What do you want me to say, Julian? That I'm sorry? All right, I'm sorry I killed your brother, Auric. But you and I killed a lot of people in the rebellion, some of them just guards or soldiers doing their job, their duty as they saw it. They were all someone's brother. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you, Julian. But there's nothing I can do about it."

  "I know," said Julian. "I'm sorry too. But sometimes sorry isn't enough."

  He reached out with his esp and shut down Finlay's mind. The Campbell toppled forward from his chair and lay still on the carpet. Julian stood up and looked down at his friend's body, and did his best to feel nothing at all. The door opened, and three operatives from Blue Block came in, from where they'd been waiting in the next room. The leader looked down at Finlay's still form.

  "Is he dead?"

  "No," said Julian. "Just sleeping. Pick him up and carry him out. And treat him courteously. He was a great man once."

  The three operatives from Blue Block dropped Finlay's unconscious body onto the floor at BB Chojiro's feet. He lay still, barely breathing, his sword belt and holster gone, one arm falling limply away from his body as though outstretched in supplication to BB. She studied his body for a moment, then looked up to smile at Julian Skye, standing a little to one side. He didn't smile back, but nodded to her.

  "Hello, BB. It's been a while, hasn't it? I like your suite. Very airy. I brought you a present. A little something."

  "Hello, Julian. It's good to see you again. You always were very generous to me. I hope you had no trouble getting to see me."

  "I could have lived without the strip search and the probing fingers, but I can understand your need for security. You have a lot of enemies these days, BB."

  "Successful people always do. You're looking very pale, Julian. Have you been looking after yourself properly?"

  "I've not been well. The rebellion took a lot out of me. It'll pass."

  "Good. I've seen all your holo shows. Very dramatic. I understand you're quite the heartthrob these days."

  "Oh, sure. I even have an official fan club. I can get you an autographed photo if you like."

  "So," said BB. "Is there anyone… special in your life at present?"

  "No," said Julian. "You know there isn't. There's only ever been you, BB. You ruined me for anyone else. That's why I'm here. Why I brought you Finlay. To show the depths of my feelings for you."

  "Dear Julian. There's never been anyone but you in my life either. I never wanted anyone else. We belong together."

  "Get rid of the shadows," said Julian, indicating the three Blue Block operatives hovering silently in the background. "We don't need an audience."

  BB gestured at them, and the three faceless men nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind them. BB and Julian stood looking at each other over Finlay's unconscious body, and there was a yearning look in both of their faces that might or might not have been real.

  "You're so beautiful," said Julian. "You're all I ever wanted. I would have laid down my life for you."

  "Why are you here, Julian?" said BB, her voice very small and very quiet. "After all the terrible things I did to you."

  "I don't know. I'm still not sure whether I ought to kiss you or kill you. You hurt me, BB. I trusted you, and you ripped the heart right out of me."

  "I know. I had no choice. I've belonged to Blue Block since I was a small child. They were my life, my everything. I could no more reject their programming than I could choose to stop breathing. I loved you, but they made me give you up. I cried for days."

  "Did you, BB? Did you really? I cried in the interrogation cells, but no one came to wipe away my tears. I haven't cried since. I don't think I have it in me anymore."

  "Why are you here, Julian? What do you want from me?"

  "I had to come. And you know what I want. I want things to be the way they used to be. When we were in love, and so happy, and we thought we'd spend the rest of our lives together."

  "I want that too, Julian. Whoever and whatever I've been, there's always been someone in me who loved you. We can be together again now you've proved your love. Blue Block won't stand between us this time. They want us to be together. They've planned a great future for us. We can marry, and you'll become part of Clan Chojiro. We'll forget the past, and the pain, and nothing will ever part us. I'll be yours forever, and you'll be mine. It's not so bad being in Blue Block. We can be happy together. All it will take is one last proof of your feelings. All you have to do for Blue Block, for me, is kill our enemy, Finlay Campbell."

  Julian looked at her and then looked down at the unconscious body on the floor between them. "I always thought it might come down to that. Choose between my love for you and my love for my friend. And I wondered what I was going to do when we finally got to this point. I never stopped loving you, BB. You were my first love and my first woman, and nothing can change that. But I've been through a lot. I see things more clearly now. And I know you'd say whatever it took to get me to do what you want. Truth and lies a
re all the same to you, because the only thing in your life that really matters to you is Blue Block. They own you, body and soul. It's not your fault. Not really. But you don't love me. You never did. I don't think you have it in you."

  "You're wrong, Julian. You're so wrong. There's more to me than just my programming." There were tears glistening in her eyes now. "Blue Block shaped my mind, but my heart is still my own. We can be happy together. We can."

  "No. If you really loved me, you wouldn't ask me to kill my friend."

  "Then don't," said BB. "Let him live. You're more important to me than the death of an enemy."

  She held out her arms to him, and he stumbled forward into them. Julian hugged her to him, his head resting on top of hers. He breathed in the subtle scent of her hair, and she was so soft and wonderful in his arms. And then BB drew the long, thin dagger hidden in her sleeve and thrust it expertly between his ribs. He cried out in shock and pain, his arms closing around her like a vice. BB relaxed in his dying embrace and smiled into his face, so close to hers.

  "Sorry, my darling. But you were always too dangerous to be allowed to run free. If you had only bound yourself to me, allowed me to rein you to Blue Block, we could have been so happy together. But I always suspected you were too honorable a man for that. Poor Julian, didn't you know there's no honor left in the world you helped to make?"

  Julian smiled at her, and his teeth were red with blood. He was breathing harshly, and a mist of fine red droplets sprayed with his every breath, speckling BB's face with horrid freckles. She didn't flinch. Julian still held her tightly, but she knew the strength would go out of his arms soon. Julian lowered his face to hers. He wanted to be sure she heard what she had to say.

  "I knew… there was no honor in you, BB. Wake up, Finlay."

  He reached out to Finlay with his esp, and the body on the floor was suddenly wide awake again. Finlay surged to his feet, reaching for a sword at his side that wasn't there anymore. He glared about him, saw Julian holding BB, and then saw the knife in his side.

  "Julian, what—"

  "You're in Tower Chojiro," Julian said painfully. "Get out of here, Finlay. I'm holding the doors shut with my esp to keep the guards out. You'll have to use the window."

  He flexed his mind, and the steelglass window exploded outward, leaving a wide opening through which a wind blew, cold as death. Finlay started toward Julian.

  "I'm not leaving you here! You're hurt!"

  "I'm dying, Finlay! I forgive you everything. You were always my friend. Now get the hell out of here. I've got a bomb in my belly."

  BB gasped, and tried to pull free of him, but his arms held her like bars of iron. Finlay saw the truth in the dying man's face and threw himself out the shattered window. BB kicked and struggled, screaming for help. Julian held her to him, laughing and crying as he sent the esp signal to the black capsule he'd swallowed earlier.

  When the bomb went off it killed them both instantly, and blew out the whole top floor of Tower Chojiro.

  Finlay Campbell didn't know he was on the top floor of Tower Chojiro, thirty stories up, until after he'd jumped. He fell the first few stories in a state of shock, and then the top floor exploded, snapping him out of it. All the windows blew out at once, and thick black smoke billowed from where the windows had been. Sharp-edged steelglass shrapnel flew past him, cutting him here and there, as he reached down and struggled to pull back the heel of his right boot. Inside was the coil of climbing wire he'd used in his old assassin days, during the rebellion. He'd always believed in being prepared. Guards might take your sword and gun, but they rarely took your boots till after you were dead. Julian knew about the boot heel. Finlay had told him enough stories about it. Julian. Julian was dead. Finlay squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then pushed the thought aside. He'd mourn later, when he had time. Assuming there was a later.

  He threw the grapnel on the end of the wire at the side of the Tower, and it snagged on an ornamental outcropping. He wrapped the other end of the line around both his fists and braced himself. The line snapped taut, straining his arms and biting deep enough into his hands to draw blood. Finlay gritted his teeth and used his remaining momentum to swing him into the side of the Tower. A moment later he was clinging to the wall like an old friend, flexing his aching hands one at a time, trying to get his breath back. He couldn't break his way in, so he'd have to climb the rest of the way down. He looked cautiously down and counted twenty-one stories. He shook his head slowly. He was getting too old for this shit.

  It took him over an hour to reach the ground, descending carefully foot by foot, avoiding the notice of the Tower guards. Luckily the explosion had taken out the Tower's exterior sensors, and the guards were all inside, trying to put out the fire on what was left of the top floor. Finlay dropped the last few feet, hitting the ground hard. The solid support felt good under his feet. He looked back up the way he'd come. The top of Tower Chojiro was lost in smoke and flames. Julian's funeral pyre. Finlay still wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but he could guess. He'd always known BB Chojiro would be the death of Julian.

  Finlay sighed and decided the time had come to kill Gregor Shreck. He might as well. Everything he cared about had been taken from him. He'd lost his closest friend, Julian. He'd lost all hope of contact with Adrienne and the children. And he'd lost Evangeline too, by walking out on her when she needed him the most. No, he was alone now, and free to do what he should have done a long time ago. The law wouldn't understand. Nor would his former friends and comrades in the rebellion. They'd call him a killer, a renegade, and band together to hunt him down. But none of that mattered. All that mattered now was punishing Gregor Shreck for all the pain and horror he was responsible for. Finlay nodded, once, and then strode away from the burning Tower.

  Gregor should have known. The most dangerous man of all is the man with nothing left to lose.

  He'd never given up his weapons when the rebellion ended. He'd always thought he might need them again someday. Just in case the new order didn't work out. He had stashed them in a secure lockup in a part of the city where no one asked questions, and kept their existence a secret. Even Evangeline didn't know about them. She would never have approved. A taxi took Finlay to them in under a half hour. He stopped the driver well short of the destination, tipped him enough not to remember who his fare had been, and walked the rest of the way.

  He stopped before the plain steel door and carefully checked all his hidden telltales were still secure. None of them had been triggered. His secret was still safe. He opened the locking system with his thumb print and voice code, and nodded, satisfied, to see all his old friends just where he'd left them. Blades, axes, energy guns, projectile weapons, grenades, and all the other useful little items he'd acquired during his time as an assassin. There was enough firepower here to take out a small army, and that was just what he intended to do.

  He put on full body armor first. Next came a force-shield bracelet around his left wrist and a sword belt around his waist. The weight of the sword on his hip was reassuring, like coming home. On his other hip, a holster carrying a fully charged disrupter. He slipped a projectile pistol into the back of his belt. He had something special in mind for that. Finally two bandoliers of assorted grenades, shrapnel and concussion and incendiary, crossing his chest and back. Finlay stamped back and forth about the lockup for a while, getting used to the new weight. His plan was very simple. He was going to walk in the front door of Tower Shreck and kill everyone he saw until he got to Gregor Shreck.

  And that was what he did. As a plan, it worked surprisingly well. The security in Tower Shreck, as in most of the pastel towers, was mainly concerned with warding off attacks from the air, by gravity sleds, or on the ground, by massive armed forces. They weren't prepared for a single, cold-eyed, cold-hearted killer who no longer cared whether he lived or died. Finlay walked up to the guards by the main door, shot the first one in the face, and cut the throat of the other. A shaped charge from his bandol
ier blew the main door in. He tossed a shrapnel grenade into the lobby, waited till it had gone off and the screams began, and then stalked into the smoke-filled chamber and cut down the few people the grenade hadn't finished off. Finlay dropped an incendiary to start a distracting fire and made his way up the stairs to the next floor. He wasn't dumb enough to use the elevator.

  Guards came running down the stairs, and he killed them all, making his way steadily up the stairwell, stopping at each floor to toss around grenades and incendiaries. Those who didn't die in the blasts were soon preoccupied with trying to escape the building fires and smoke. Sprinkler systems did their best, but had never been designed to cope with anything like this. There were always more guards, and Finlay killed them all, except for those with sense enough to turn and run when they saw death coming.

  Finlay's sword arm began to ache, and the blood that dripped from his armor was sometimes his own now, but he didn't care. He was doing what he was born to do, and doing it well. His force shield deflected energy weapons, and in the narrow stairwell the guards could come at him only a few at a time, and that wasn't enough to stop him, not nearly enough. He stepped over the bodies and kept going.

  He'd set fires in half the floors of the Tower by now. Thick black smoke was drifting up the stairwell after him. He could hear screaming and panicking and the screeching of alarm sirens, and it was all music to his ears. Let Tower Shreck burn. He wasn't planning on going back down again.

  And finally Gregor ran out of guards. Their impressive-looking armor wasn't much use in close-quarter fighting, and with the Tower burning up all around them, most decided they weren't being paid enough to deal with this madman and took to their heels. Finlay carried on up the stairwell, sometimes coughing from the smoke, but not slowing down. He came to the top floor of the Tower and made his way down the deserted corridor, kicking open doors till he came to the reinforced door that led into Gregor's private chambers. Finlay blew in the door with a shaped charge, and strode through the smoke into Gregor's bloodred womb of a room.