Deathstalker Coda

by Simon R. Green

  At the very center of the court, under the very apex of the great golden bowl, on the Steel Throne set high on a raised dais, sat Ethur, looking out over his packed court with cold, knowing eyes. Owen had been warned about the state of the Emperor, but the reality still came as a shock. Ethur was the oldest living human being, having occupied the Steel Throne for over four hundred years, but that privilege came at a price. His body was riddled with support mechanisms and gengineered organs, plugged into the machine that was the throne. He had the look of a man in his forties, apart from the many wires and tubes and cables that entered his body, connecting him to the throne he could never leave. He would never rise from the Steel Throne again, except in death.

  The Emperor's pale leathery skin was covered only by the crimson silk cloak that adorned his bony shoulders, fluttering occasionally in the gusting air currents of the court. He had no hair anywhere, no fingernails and no navel, and his complexion and body color changed constantly as chemical tides moved slowly within him. Now and again, strange sharp-edged mechanisms rose up through his flesh, like surfacing creatures, only to be pushed back down by an effort of will. The pale skin closed over them reluctantly, with not even a scar to show their passing. Ethur's face was lean and hawkish, with a beak of a nose over a tight pursed mouth, and his eyes were as old as the world.

  Dominic and Glory stood at the bottom of the dais, and presented themselves to the Emperor. They bowed deeply, but Ethur barely nodded in return. The Defender and the Investigator explained their business, and the whole court grew quiet to listen. They looked at Owen with angry, frightened eyes, and the whispered words Mad Mind moved through the courtiers like an icy breeze. Armed guards moved slowly through the courtiers to surround Owen, who politely pretended not to notice. Finally Dominic and Glory presented Owen to the Emperor, and Owen bowed courteously. Ethur,considered him thoughtfully for a long time, and when he finally spoke his voice was little more than a whisper, the words an effort, as though they had to be summoned up from deep inside him.

  "So, Owen, you are from the future, come to visit us. Something new, at last. How delicious. There is always novelty in our court, but rarely anything new. You have done well, Defender and Investigator; but where is the threat to our world that you spoke of? I see only an undeveloped man, dressed like a barbarian, and armed like one too." He paused to allow a ripple of laughter to run through the courtiers. "You may have come from the same future as the Mad Mind, Owen, but you don't seem nearly as dangerous."

  "I'm no threat," said Owen. "Really. I'm just visiting. A nice cup of tea, some answers to a few questions, and I'll be on my way again."

  "We will decide that," said Ethur.

  "Owen has… abilities, Your Majesty," said Dominic. "He has restored to us the city that was lost, and made the survivors human again! A miracle… but my partner and I felt unworthy to judge his abilities and potential, and so brought him here, to you."

  "You gave instructions, Your Majesty," said Glory, "that any other visitor from the future should be punished for the crimes of the Mad Mind. But… we could not decide whether Owen is a threat of that same magnitude. So we are here, awaiting your judgement."

  "Yes, yes," said Ethur, leaning as far forward as the tubes and cables would allow, to stare directly at Owen. "The wound in our world, healed at last by an effort of will. A miracle, indeed. Our scientists are currently having all kinds of hysterics over that. They do so hate to be outdone. And over two hundred survivors, apparently normal again. Truly impressive, Owen. Of course, we had them all killed immediately."

  "You did what?" said Owen. "Why, for God's sake?"

  Ethur actually smiled a little at the harshness in Owen's voice. "The risk was too great. They might have reverted, or proved contagious. They were inhuman once, and that is enough. You must not judge us, man from the future. This is our time, and we make the decisions here."

  "And the only miracles permitted are the ones you authorize?" said Owen. "Life and death, but only at your command? Well, well, I guess some things don't change at all, no matter what time it is."

  There were guards all around him now, with energy guns openly trained on him. Owen looked at them thoughtfully, and Dominic and Glory stirred uneasily. And that was when the Empress Hermione made her appearance, walking unhurriedly through the wide aisle that opened up in the courtiers for her. Owen had been told about the Empress, but her appearance still came as something of a shock. She drifted silently through the cordon of guards, passed by Owen without looking at him, and slowly ascended the steps of the dais to stand beside her husband and the Steel Throne.

  Hermione was fifteen years old, a tall willowy blonde in flowing white silks, and heavily pregnant. Ethur chose her to be the latest of his many brides when she was just thirteen, and no one questioned him because he was the Emperor, and knew best. Her quiet, passionless face looked drained and tired, as though the pregnancy was taking a lot out of her. It wasn't her first. The moment she became Ethur's bride, both natural and unnatural methods began, to make her pregnant with the Emperor's ancient seed. He desperately needed an heir. The first two pregnancies hadn't lasted till term, but everyone had great hopes for the third. Everyone except Hermione, but then, no one cared what she thought. The process had clearly taken its toll. Her pretty doll-like face held no emotion at all, and her eyes were empty. Ethur stroked her cheek with his long pale fingers, and she didn't respond at all. Ethur smiled down at Owen.

  "The older we get, the younger we like them. People grow the same so quickly… only the young have any real individuality, and it soon fades. All our wives have been such delicate flowers…"

  "How many have you had?" said Owen.

  "Who can say? Some were more memorable than others. Some of them gave us children, but we ended up killing all our heirs, sooner or later. Because they were bad, or unsuitable. They were all such disappointments… Still, we remain optimistic. We always hope that the next one will turn out better."

  "Bad blood will out," said Owen. "And monsters have a tendency to breed true."

  The courtiers gasped, and the Emperor looked at him sharply before settling back in his Steel Throne. The tubes and cables murmured around him, as though resentful at being disturbed.

  "You are not our first visitor from the future, Owen. Twelve years ago, the Mad Mind came upon us, without warning. It tore this world apart, searching for knowledge we didn't have. We have come a long way in our knowledge of the body, but even we can't raise the dead. The Mad Mind refused to believe us. It raged through our cities, blasting open universities and laboratories, killing hundreds of thousands in the process. All our armed forces were helpless against this… creature. It abducted our greatest scientists and thinkers, and tore their knowledge from their brains. What she left behind, the discarded husks, would have been better off dead. And finally, with half of Heartworld in rubble or in flames, with the dead piled up everywhere, the Mad Mind disappeared, as suddenly as it had appeared. Our people are still mourning and rebuilding.

  "We know all about monsters, Owen.

  "And now here you are, from that same future, claiming the Mad Mind as a friend. We've waited a long time for another of your kind to appear. We set our traps everywhere, specifically tasked to catch and cage your kind. You will pay for the crimes of your friend. Whatever mad hell of a future you come from that can produce such monstrosities—we want nothing to do with it. And hopefully the horrific nature of your corpse, when it finally returns to the future, will be sufficient to dissuade any others who feel like visiting us."

  "So the cup of tea's out of the question, then?" said Owen. "Pity." He looked at Hermione. "I can get you out of here. Take you somewhere else. Just say the word."

  "I am happy here," said the Empress Hermione, in a high childish voice. "I belong here."

  Yes, Owen thought reluctantly. You do. And one day, you will meet a man named Giles Deathstalker, and the child you make together will do such wondrous things …

 
He sighed loudly, and looked at Ethur again. "There won't be any more visitors from the future."

  "Can you guarantee that?" said the Emperor. "Not that it matters. In your position, you'd say anything. You don't seem nearly as dangerous as your predecessor, but we don't feel like taking any chances. Not after what you did with the lost city." He paused suddenly, struck by a thought. "Tell us about your future, monster. What will happen between now and then, to produce such as you?"

  "In my time," Owen said, "all of Humanity is faced with the threat of extinction. An enemy is coming that we cannot stop or turn aside. It is my hope that by tracking down the Mad Mind, and stopping it, I can learn how to save Humanity in my time. You must not stop me, Your Majesty. The future of our species may depend upon what I can learn."

  "A future full of monsters doesn't deserve to be saved," said Ethur. "Perhaps by dissecting your living body and probing your mind, we will find the knowledge to create a different future. Your slow and hideous death will serve many purposes, Owen. Try and remember that, while you're screaming. We will have justice, for what was done to us. We will have vengeance."

  "And after everything I've done for you," said Owen.

  "We will learn how you remade that city and its people, from the agonies of your body and your mind. Nothing will be wasted."

  "Think of all the good I could do."

  "We will allow no greater power than us in this Empire," said Ethur. "We alone know what is best for Humanity."

  "Nothing changes," said Owen Deathstalker.

  He blew the energy gyves off his wrists with a careless shrug, and the surrounding guards cried out in shock. Energy guns trained on him from every direction, and even Dominic Cairo and Glory Chojiro had weapons in their hands. The courtiers screamed and shouted, and did their best to scrabble back out of the line of fire. All around Owen, people were changing into more dangerous battle forms. Owen ignored them all, his gaze fixed on the stupefied Emperor.

  "It doesn't matter what time it is; Emperors are always a bad idea. I think the whole idea's intrinsically corrupting. People just aren't supposed to wield that much power. It isn't good for them. So, sorry, but I decline to be vivisected. I have work to do."

  He looked casually around him. The guards were now great metallic forms, or creature hybrids. There were looming insectoid forms, with wild energies coruscating around their branching horns. And even a few shapes that made no sense to him at all. And there were more guns pointed at him than he'd seen in the whole Rebellion. Owen looked back at Ethur.

  "Boo!"

  All the guns opened up at once, tremendous energies leaping out to destroy him. Owen stopped them all in midair with a thought. They hung helplessly on the air, caught between one moment and the next. Owen considered the matter for a moment, and then absorbed all the energy into himself. He didn't want any of it running loose when he left and injuring innocent bystanders. Assuming there were any… The guards tried to fire again, but their guns didn't work, because Owen had decided they didn't. He could have killed them all with a thought, but he didn't. They were just doing their jobs. He could have killed the Emperor… but history had to take its course. And he didn't want to abuse his power. That way led to Emperors, and Mad Minds.

  He strode up the steps to the top of the dais, to look right into Ethur's face. "I ought to rip you right out of that throne and strangle you with your own life-support systems. But I can't, because history has its imperatives. What you will do, in years to come, will eventually lead to a better Empire. My best revenge… is knowing that you'd really hate the Empire that's coming."

  "This isn't over yet," said Ethur.

  He gestured at his guards, and they closed in around Glory and Dominic, and turned their guns on them. Owen looked at the guards, and then back at the Emperor.

  "You are fond of these two," said Ethur. "You care about them. We have had reports. So, surrender or they die. Right here and now. Or will you sacrifice your newfound friends to necessity, and prove yourself as inhuman as the Mad Mind?"

  "There's only one monster in this court, Ethur," said Owen.

  He gathered up Glory and Dominic with his mind, and in a moment they were back at the starport. The Investigator and the Defender looked dazedly about them, shocked by the sudden transition. Great silver ships loomed over them, and people came and went, intent on their own business. Glory recovered first, and gave Owen a hard look.

  "I didn't know you could do that."

  "Neither did I," said Owen. "I'm learning new things all the time now. It seems I've destroyed your lives, just by meeting you. I'm afraid you can't go back to court—ever. You can bet Ethur will be looking for someone to take out his anger on, now that he doesn't have me."

  "He would have had us killed," Dominic said numbly.

  "We spent our lives in duty and service to his name, and at the end it meant nothing to him."

  "Yes, well," said Owen. "Emperors are like that, mostly."

  "He betrayed us," said Glory. Something had changed in her face, in her eyes. "Something must be done, to block the power of Emperors."

  "Even Heartworld won't be safe for us now," said Dominic. "We'll have to try and lose ourselves on one of the border worlds. Have to say good-bye to our families, to our friends… All I ever wanted was to be a Defender of Humanity, and I'll have to give that up too. Damn you, Owen. Why did you have to choose us?"

  "I'm sorry," said Owen. "Believe me, I know how you feel." He looked around the starport, and at the city in the distance. "This Empire is a legend in my time; the greatest flowering of human civilization. I hadn't expected… this. So much more, and so much less. But if anyone should have known you can't trust in legends, it's me."

  Glory frowned. "If you're from the future, this should be history to you. Didn't you study the period before you left?"

  "There are no records," said Owen. "Just… stories."

  Dominic looked at Owen searchingly. "Something's going to happen—something… bad? What aren't you telling us, Owen?"

  "Is the Mad Mind coming back?" said Glory.

  "No." Owen looked at them both compassionately. He would have liked to lie, but he owed them the truth. "Your Empire will decline and fall. We don't know exactly when, or why. Perhaps you would be safer on a border world, after all."

  Dominic and Glory moved closer together, as though for comfort and protection. A directionless fear moved in their eyes, of bad times coming they now knew they wouldn't be able to stop.

  "Who are you, Owen?" said Glory. "Who are you, really?"

  "Just a man, trying to do the right thing," said Owen. "In the end, that's all there ever is."

  "Where… when will you go next?" said Dominic.

  "My friend—your Mad Mind—leaves a trail when she travels back through time. I'll pick up the trail again and follow where it leads. Hope to catch up to her before she can do any more damage. I only missed her by twelve years here, and that's not bad after a trip of nearly a thousand years. Good-bye, my friends. Make new lives for yourselves. And remember: look forward, never back."

  He let go his hold on time, and the planet dropped away from under him, leaving him suspended in open space again. He reached out for Hazel's trail, and was surprised to find she hadn't immediately dived back into the past again. She'd made what looked to be a side trip, to one of the border worlds, on what would one day be called the Rim. Curious, Owen followed her trail, treading the stars under his feet as he headed for the edge of civilization.

  It was a green world, young and full of life, and the human presence there was still a new thing. Owen hung in orbit above the planet, studying it with his extended senses. He didn't need to see or hear things directly anymore; he just knew. There were barely a hundred cities on this world, most of them little more than stone and timber. A single starport served only visiting ships. It was a low-tech civilization, sliding slowly but inevitably back into barbarism. Armies warred constantly on each other, though it wasn't clear what they had to fi
ght over, except perhaps territory. It was a purely human world, with no extreme body shapes or adaptations. Some guns, but steel was the weapon of choice. Owen was amused to find he felt more comfortable here than he had on Heartworld.

  He materialized in the midst of a great forest. Massive trees with blue-black bark, and heavy fleshy leaves of a green so brilliant they were almost luminous. They towered all around him, packed so closely together they blocked out most of the light from the brilliant silver-blue sun. The air was cool and crisp, full of the scents of living things, and a curling ground mist moved this way and that, though no breeze blew. Owen looked slowly around him. There were dark shadows in between the trees, and dust motes curled slowly in the silver shafts of light, but there was no sign of any human intrusion.

  Once again Hazel had been and gone. He'd missed her again. And yet there'd been no trace of any damage on this world, nothing like the devastation she'd visited on Heartworld. What had brought her here, to a place so far away from everywhere? Owen looked round sharply. Someone was coming. After a while, he heard footsteps approaching, and a young boy calling excitedly after baying hounds. And finally a dark-haired boy of about ten came running down the narrow trail, following two loping hound dogs. He called out sharply to the dogs as he spotted Owen waiting, and the hounds immediately crashed to a halt. They studied Owen suspiciously, panting heavily, as the boy came slowly forward to stand beside them. He had a sword on his hip. Owen gave the boy his best reassuring smile.

  "Hi. I'm Owen. I'm just visiting."

  "Offworlder," said the boy, taking in Owen's clothes. He was dressed in roughly stitched furs over a plain tunic. "We don't see many tourists these days. And mostly we like it that way. You've come a fair way from the starport. Are you lost?"

  "No," said Owen. "Just… seeing the sights. Can you tell me your name?"

  The boy grinned briefly. "Ma always says I have no manners. I'm Giles VomAcht, of Hadrian City. My father is war master there. And these overeager boys here are called Hunter and Tracker. Because that's what they do."