"So glad we had this little chat," said Stevie Three. "Now, get out of here or I'll weld your legs together."
The Hadenman considered the matter for a moment. Black scorch marks were beginning to appear on his simple cloth robe. And then he took a step forward, so he could stare right into Stevie Three's face. The light from his eyes was almost blinding at close range. "We will discuss this again at a future time."
"Yeah, right," said Stevie Three, fighting down an impulse to step back a pace herself. "Later."
The Hadenman turned unhurriedly away and walked off into the gleaming metal and glass city. Owen and the two Stevie Blues watched him go, and no one said anything until they were sure he was out of earshot. Owen turned to Stevie Three and fanned at the hot air between them with his hand.
"Do you think you could turn that down a little now? It's getting rather close around here."
"Sorry," said Stevie Three, and the leaping flames surrounding her snapped off as quickly as they'd arisen. "I can't believe we're allies with the augmented men. They're really not human, after all."
"There are those who say the same thing about us," said Stevie One.
"Not around me they don't," said Stevie Three. "You can't compare us to them. For all our differences, we were born, not made."
"Let's get to the meeting," said Stevie One diplomatically. "We're running late as it is. Will you be joining us, Deathstalker?"
"Soon," said Owen. "Don't wait for me."
The two esper clones nodded in the same way, at the same moment, and then their faces went blank as they contacted the Last Standing through their comm implants. They disappeared between one moment and the next, and there were two quick claps of thunder as air rushed in to fill the space where they'd been. Owen blinked respectfully. Teleportation like that took one hell of a lot of power, which was one reason it wasn't more commonly used in the Empire. Espers were cheaper and more easily controlled. Besides, it wouldn't do for something so useful to fall into the hands of the common herd. Rank had to have its privileges, or what was the point? Owen scowled. The Last Standing was using up a lot of power recently, and even its vast resources weren't bottomless. Still, that wasn't his problem. His problem was still somewhere in the Hadenman city, taking her own sweet time about getting back. He looked out over the gleaming city, glanced again at the watch face in his wrist, and swore quietly. He couldn't wait any longer. He'd have to go in and find her.
There was always the chance something had happened to her, but it wasn't likely. He'd have known. All of those who'd passed through the enigmatic alien structure known as the Madness Maze had emerged changed, in body and mind. They were linked together on a deep and fundamental level, a bond that could not be broken by anything now, least of all distance. He concentrated deep within himself, sinking down into the back brain, the undermind, and there were the others, looking back at him. Jack Random and Ruby Journey and his ancestor Giles were up in the Last Standing. Hazel was in the city, not far away. He narrowed in on her and fixed her location in the city. Not far away at all. Walking distance. All he had to do to find her was walk into the most alien and disturbing city he'd ever seen. Damn, he thought dispassionately. He squared his shoulders, checked his weapons were where they should be, and set off into the gleaming city.
The strangely shaped buildings and structures loomed up around him, closing him in, all of them lit from within by an unwavering silver glow that was subtly unnerving. It bothered him till he realized that for all the light, there were no shadows anywhere. Just the endless, unforgiving light. It felt cold upon his skin, like the caress of passing ghosts, and the unrelenting glare started a headache right behind his eyes. Or perhaps his head hurt because of the shapes around him. The dimensions were all wrong, distorted and unsettling on some fundamental level, like a triangle whose angles added up to more than one hundred and eighty degrees. Just another proof that the Hadenmen weren't human. No human could survive for long in this city without going crazy. So what could be so important to Hazel that it drove her into this unnatural city and kept her here when every human instinct in her must be screaming for her to leave?
It got colder the farther he pressed into the city, and the air grew thin, as though he was climbing a mountain into a more rarefied atmosphere. The air smelt of ozone and other chemicals he didn't recognize. There was a constant deep thudding, a sound so low and so quiet he felt it in his bones as much as heard it, a constant slow pulsing like the beat of a giant heart. There were Hadenmen everywhere he looked, working or operating unfamiliar machinery or walking unhurriedly down the wide streets. Some were just standing quietly, looking at nothing, as though waiting for instructions. None of them spoke; they were linked on a level beyond speech. No one turned to look at Owen as he passed, but he knew he was being watched. As long as he didn't touch anything or try and interfere with their work, he should be safe enough. Mostly, they were very respectful to the man who'd awakened them from their Tomb. They called him Redeemer and bowed to him, but Owen knew better than to try and take advantage of that. They were probably doing it only to mess with his head. He was human and they weren't, and if he got in the way or saw something he wasn't supposed to, Owen had no doubt the augmented men would strike him down as casually as a man might swat a bothersome fly. So he walked casually down the middle of the street, looking straight ahead, his back prickling from the pressure of countless watching eyes, and let his hand rest on his belt right next to his disrupter. And Hazel had better have a bloody good reason for being here…
Her found her down a side street, not hiding but not in plain sight, either. She was talking with a Hadenman and didn't look around as Owen approached. The augmented man handed her a small metal flask, which Hazel immediately made disappear about her person, and only then looked around to scowl at Owen. The Hadenman walked off in the opposite direction, not looking once in Owen's direction.
"What the hell are you doing here, aristo?" said Hazel in the coldest voice Owen had ever heard from her.
"I could ask you the same question," said Owen easily. "We're supposed to be attending a council meeting up on the Last Standing, remember? It'll look rather bad if we're not there; we are two of the guests of honor, after all."
Hazel shrugged. "You go. They don't need me. Planning's not what I do best."
"I had noticed. But they definitely want both of us. For PR as much as anything, to show our faces to potential supporters and backers. What were you and the Hadenman talking about?"
"Didn't you recognize him? That was Moon."
Owen looked quickly after the departing figure, but he was already gone, disappeared back into the anonymous host of Hadenmen. Owen looked back at Hazel. "No, I didn't recognize him. How did you find him; he looks the same as all the others now."
"He found me."
"Did… did he remember you?"
"Not really. He recognized me. You and I are part of all Hadenman programming. But Tobias Moon is gone. There's nothing left of the man we once knew." She shrugged briefly. "No big deal. We were never close."
Owen just nodded. It would only embarrass Hazel if he pushed her to admit she'd cared enough to seek Moon out in a city most people wouldn't have entered without a gun at their back. Hazel liked to think she was above such weaknesses as caring. "What was that flask he gave you?" he said finally, changing the subject.
"Don't question me, aristo. My business is my business. Now, let's go. We have a meeting to attend, remember?"
Women, thought Owen, though he had the sense not to say it aloud. All this, over a little expressed emotion. Heaven forbid that Hazel d'Ark should be seen to be anything but the strong, unyielding pirate with a heart of solid stone. He gestured for her to lead the way, and they set off back through the Hadenman city. None of the augmented men they passed looked up from what they were doing.
"They're going to have to work to make this a tourist spot," said Hazel. "No bars, no sights, and the atmosphere's terrible."
"Ri
ght," said Owen. "Maybe a petting zoo would help."
"I doubt it. They'd probably put people in it." Hazel paused and glanced sideways at Owen. "Does it bother you that they're all being so nice and reasonable? I mean, these people, and I use the term loosely, used to be the official Enemies of Humanity. It used to be that if a human saw a Hadenman, it was the last thing he ever saw. Why are they helping us with the rebellion? What's in it for them?"
"Dead humans, I expect. The old divide-and-conquer bit. They get to see the Empire fall and refine their fighting abilities at the same time. We'll just have to keep a close watch on our backs and make sure Haden doesn't get too powerful again. We can't do without them, Hazel. They're all we've got to throw against the Empire's armies."
"And what if they're just going along with us to discover all our weak spots, so they can take us out once we've knocked over the Empire?"
"Then, you and I will have to step in and save the day," said Owen calmly. "That's our job, remember? We're the heroes here."
"Yeah," said Hazel. "Heroes."
They teleported up into the great Hall of the Last Standing to find everyone else had got there before them. The Hall itself was huge, bigger even than the Hall in Owen's own Standing back on Virimonde, but it was still crowded from wall to wall with holos of politely chatting people. Everyone with an interest in rebellion had sent hologram representatives, if only to make sure they weren't left out of anything important. Owen and Hazel were stuck out on the fringe, for which Owen at least was grateful. He wanted to get some idea of what kind of bear pit he was stepping into before he opened his mouth. He looked around him unobtrusively, but the sea of faces were mostly unfamiliar. Quite a few seemed awed by the sheer size of the Hall, though they were all doing their best not to show it. Owen smiled slightly. They should be grateful they were in the Hall. The Hadenmen had wanted the meeting to take place in their city, but the humans turned that down very quickly, on the grounds that the city was just too bloody disturbing. There wasn't much the five humans agreed on, but the city was quite definitely one of them. Giles in particular had been very firm. He was convinced the Hadenmen were doing a great deal more than just rebuilding their city; that they were up to things no human could hope to understand. Either way, they all agreed it would be in everyone's best interests to maintain a safe distance between potential backers and the augmented men. The Hadenmen had insisted on sending a representative, in person, and people were keeping a safe distance from him, too. It didn't seem to bother him. He held a glass of wine in his hand but didn't drink from it, and smiled politely at anyone who passed. It wasn't a particularly successful smile, but not bad for a Hadenman. Maybe he'd been practicing with a mirror.
There were hundreds of holos from every corner of the Empire, their signals bounced through a confusing series of relays, courtesy of the cyberats on Golgotha. Anyone trying to listen in would go crazy following the signals from relay to relay without ever catching up. Many of the representatives had been drawn by Jack Random's name. The legendary professional rebel was still a powerful symbol, even though his defeats far outweighed his successes. The man himself was holding court in the center of the Hall, smiling broadly, with a word for everyone. Ruby Journey stood at his side, ready to snarl at anyone who got too close.
And yet it had to be said a great many people were shocked at seeing Jack's present condition. The years and the defeats had not been kind to him, and his time in the hands of the Empire mind techs and torturers had left their mark on him, too. The legend of Jack Random had spread throughout the Empire, but that was mostly based on propaganda holos he'd circulated during his earlier, more successful days. That was then, this was now, and Jack didn't look like a hero anymore.
He was a short, slight man in his late forties, who looked twenty years older. He had a thin lined face topped by ragged gray hair that looked like he cut it himself. He'd been muscular once, but the best you could call him now was wiry. His hands had liver spots on the back, and they trembled constantly. He didn't look like a legendary fighter and warrior anymore. He looked more like an old man up well past his bedtime.
Ruby Journey, on the other hand, looked like sudden death on two legs, with a glare to match. She'd been the best bounty hunter on Mistworld, which took some doing, and most people were giving her even more room than the Hadenman. They were perfectly safe, as holos, but somehow they only had to look at Ruby to find pressing reasons to be somewhere else. She was medium height, lithely muscled, wearing shiny black leathers under grubby white furs. She wore sword and gun on her hips, and no one had any doubts she knew how to use them. Her face was pale and pointed, with dark unwavering eyes and a fierce smile, under a helmet of short dark hair. She wasn't pretty, but she was attractive in a dark and very dangerous way. Jack Random was winning bonus points for just being so relaxed in her company.
Owen and Hazel moved unhurriedly through the crowd, smiling and bowing and saying hello, glad you could make it, while trying to sound like they meant it. They also tried their best not to walk through people, but it was very crowded. Owen had more experience in diplomacy and lying with a straight face, so he made a rather better impression than Hazel, but he gave her credit for at least trying. She wasn't the most sociable of people at the best of times, and of late she'd been more reserved and generally snappy than ever. Owen had tried to ask her tentatively if anything was wrong, but her cold glare kept him at a distance, along with everyone else. Presumably she was still mad about being trapped on a bleak and empty world light-years from anywhere civilized. Hazel liked her comforts and wasn't particularly interested in politics. If you couldn't drink it, eat it, or pick a fight with it, Hazel usually couldn't care less. They finally finished their rounds and returned to the small self-service bar Giles had thoughtfully set up in a corner. Owen leaned an elbow on the bar and sighed. His cheeks ached. He hadn't done so much smiling in years. Hazel allowed him to pour her a large one and scowled out at the crowd.
"Do you recognize any of these people?" she said quietly. "I'd hate to think I was putting on this show for a bunch of nobodies."
"I know some of them," said Owen, and then paused to raise an appreciative eyebrow at the excellent vintage in his glass. The Standing must have a superb wine cellar somewhere. Hazel gulped at hers like it was a cheap claret. Owen hid a wince and continued. "There's a handful of lesser Lords, representatives of several Clans and business interests, and a few minor heroes. No one in Jack Random's class, but it's good they came. It means we're being taken seriously. Hello, look over there. You know who that is, don't you?"
"Damn right I do," said Hazel. "That's Investigator Topaz, from Mistworld. The only major-league esper ever to become an Investigator. The most powerful Siren the Empire ever knew. When she went rogue and made a run for Mistworld, they sent a whole company of marines after her, and she killed them all with a single song. She practically saved Mistworld single-handed when Imperial agents smuggled Typhoid Mary past the planet's defenses. Never met her personally, and I can't say I'm sorry. She's supposed to be cold as ice and twice as deadly. I feel rather outclassed."
"Don't," said Owen. "She came to us, remember?"
"Good point," said Hazel. "But we'd better keep Ruby away from her. Just in case."
They both looked around sharply as someone called Owen's name, and a holo figure approached them, smiling widely. Dressed in brilliant silks color-matched to within an inch of their lives, he looked fat and prosperous and very pleased with himself. He bounced to a halt in front of them, bowed to Owen, and smiled and nodded to Hazel. "Owen, dear boy; so good to see you again."
"I might have known you'd be here," said Owen. "Never were one to miss an opportunity, were you, Elias? Hazel d'Ark, allow me to present to you Elias Gutman, adventurer and profiteer, a rotten branch from a distinguished tree. His Family sends him money regularly as long as he promises not to come home. He worked with my father on some of his dirtier deals, to raise money for his intrigues."
; "Very dirty but very profitable deals," said Gutman still smiling. "Glad to see you're finally following in your father's footsteps. My colleagues and I expect great things from you."
"My father has nothing to do with why I'm here," said Owen, and Hazel flicked him a glance as she heard the ice in his voice. "I'm fighting for my own reasons, and I'll choose my own friends and allies. Let me tell you about Elias Gutman, Hazel. He has a hand in every crooked and corrupt business deal on half the planets in the Empire. No trade's too dirty for him to take a cut, and the only laws he hasn't broken are the ones he hasn't got around to yet. He makes his money from the suffering of others, and he probably has as much blood on his hands as Lionstone herself."
Gutman laughed richly. "You flatter me, dear boy, you do. I'm just a businessman with an eye for a profit. Your father never objected."
"I'm not my father," said Owen.
"I'm glad to hear it. The dear fellow was always too idealistic for his own good—bless me he was. He never could remember the first rule of business: never let a principle get in the way of profit. There's always a good deal of money to be made in times of war, and I intend to have my fair share and more. Do try not to get caught underfoot, Owen; you might find that I and my kind are more of an asset to the rebellion than you are. Financial backing is hard to come by, but there's never a shortage of people foolish enough to be heroes."
He smiled, bowed, and walked away while Owen was still trying to come up with an answer that would crush him. Owen stood fuming for a moment, and then let out his breath in a long sigh. He'd never been any good at repartee. He only ever thought of the perfect answer hours later, when it was too late. But there was no point in getting angry this early in the proceedings. He had no doubt there'd be much more important things for him to get angry about once the council was brought to order, and the real wheeling and dealing began.
Deathstalker Rebellion Page 31