Deathstalker Honor d-4

by Simon R. Green

  So the Sunstrider II held its position, and Owen worried as he waited for some reaction from the golden ships, some sign they'd been spotted. Like massed disrupter fire. But all was quiet and remained quiet, and Owen let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. He wouldn't really have run, whatever the Hadenmen response. He couldn't. He'd given Parliament his word that he'd do everything he could to save the colonists of Brahmin II from the occupying Hadenmen. Owen sighed quietly. Somedays a reputation as a hero could be a real pain in the ass.

  "The Hadenmen ships seem to be entirely at their ease, Owen," the AI Ozymandius murmured in his ear. "Weapon systems remain offline, and I'm detecting what appears to be only standard comm traffic. Though if pressed, I would have to admit that I cannot be one hundred percent sure of what they're actually talking about. Their machine language is unbelievably complex."

  "Hardly surprising," said Owen. "Hadenman tech always was cutting-edge. But I think if they were sounding any alarms, we'd have known about it by now. There'd be these large holes in our hull, fires everywhere, and this terrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just looking at that many golden ships in one place makes me feel like hiding under my chair. Run a full range of sensor scans on the planet below, Oz. But very carefully. Back off immediately if you even sniff any resistance to your scans."

  "I am not an amateur, Owen. Rest assured that at no time will they ever know we're here. I shall move among them like a ghost in the night, peering over their electronic shoulders like a thing of mists and shadows."

  "You've been watching those ninja holodramas again. For an Artificial Intelligence, your viewing tastes have always tended toward the irredeemably vulgar."

  "So I like a little trash and sleaze now and again. Who doesn't? It wouldn't do you any harm to relax your precious standards once in a while."

  "Shut up and get on with it."

  "Oh, right away, my mighty lord and master. Your trouble is, you don't appreciate me. I've a good mind to go sit in a corner and sulk."

  "Oz…"

  "All right, all right. Lift that barge, tote that bale. I'll get back to you when I've got something."

  Owen waited for some final cutting comment, but the AI seemed to have finished. Owen promised himself that one of these days he was going to find the programmer who'd given Oz his distinctive personality, and then rip out the man's spleen and tap-dance on it.

  Loud, heavy footsteps in the corridor outside announced Hazel's imminent arrival. And from the sound of it, not in a particularly good mood. So, thought Owen. No change there, then. He put on his most pleasant face as the bridge door hissed open just in time to avoid Hazel crashing through it. She came to a halt right in front of Owen, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him.

  "All right," said Owen patiently. "What's upset you this time? The food synthesizers still incapable of turning out a decent bottle of wine? Though I really don't know why you keep tinkering with them. You know perfectly well you have no palate."

  "Don't try to change the subject! You know very well why I'm upset. Why wasn't I alerted the moment we arrived at Brahmin II?"

  "Because you were fast asleep with a Do Not Disturb sign posted on the computer. I did try sending a wake-up call. Three times, in fact. The last time you smashed the comm unit, and I took that as a hint you weren't really interested. Besides, there was nothing you could have done."

  Hazel scowled and threw herself into a chair opposite him. "God, I hate it when you go all smug. I was entitled to get my head down for a bit after everything we've been through recently."

  "Quite right. Now that you are rested, composed, and hopefully wide awake at last, perhaps you'd care for me to brief you?"

  "Oh, go on. You live for moments like this, when you get to lecture people on things you know that they don't. But keep it short and succinct, or I'll throw things."

  "We are currently in the vicinity of the planet Brahmin II," said Owen calmly. "Maintaining a safe distance from the planet and the twelve golden ships lying in orbit around it. Yes, twelve. Our shields seem to be working nicely. Brahmin II is occupied by our one-time allies, the newly revived Hadenmen. They have claimed the planet in the name of their Second Crusade of the Genetic Church. They bring the gift of transformation, from men into Hadenmen. Whether the men want it or not. Brahmin II has been renamed New Haden, and is now the new home and base of the augmented men."

  "I got all that at Parliament," snapped Hazel. "Tell me something I don't know."

  "Patience. I'm getting there. During the rebellion the Hadenmen took over a hundred and twenty thousand prisoners. These have since been transferred to New Haden to join the one and a half million colonists as captives. We have no idea of their current… condition. Parliament is demanding their release, but the Hadenmen didn't even bother to reply after their initial statement. And since the Imperial Fleet currently consists of maybe a dozen starcruisers held together with baling wire and prayer, the Empire is helpless to do anything to save the colonists and prisoners from their fate."

  "So they sent us instead. Because we're expendable."

  "Because we're heroes. And because we have a better chance than most of actually achieving something. Besides, it's my duty. I'm responsible for everything that's happened here. I woke the augmented men from their Tomb. Brought them back into the worlds of men, to walk in all their nightmares once again."

  "We needed them," said Hazel almost gently, the anger gone from her voice. "We couldn't have won the rebellion without them."

  "Maybe. And maybe all we've done is exchange one evil for another. Before the rogue AIs escaped and built Shub, the Hadenmen were the official Enemies of Humanity, and with good reason. Hadenmen. The Slaughterers of Madraguda. The Butchers of Brahmin II. Defeated, thrown back, safely bottled up in their Tomb. Until I let them out."

  "You trusted them," said Hazel. "They gave you their word. They called you Redeemer and swore an oath of allegiance to you. They betrayed you."

  "Of course they did. They know nothing of honor." Owen's head and shoulders bowed, as though weighed down by some great burden. "I never trusted them. But I needed them. So I let them out anyway."

  Hazel leaned forward, one hand lifting as though she might reach out to him. "Owen…"

  He lifted his head sharply, and Hazel pulled back her hand. He didn't notice. His face was calm and composed, and when he spoke his voice was all business. "You worked on Brahmin II once, before I met you, before the rebellion. What can you tell me about the place?"

  "Not a lot," said Hazel, taking her cue from Owen. If he wanted to change the subject, that was fine by her. "Dismal bloody place, all hard work and discipline and damn few comforts. Not really surprising after what the Hadenmen did to it the last time they were here. I thought you might ask, so I took the time to pull up the computer records of the first invasion. They're pretty scrappy, mostly on-the-spot news coverage broadcast live, but it should give you some idea of how bad things were. You need to see this, Owen. I don't want you going down there with thoughts of negotiating or making deals. Force is all these bastards have ever understood."

  She called up the records on the main viewscreen, and she and Owen sat side by side and watched history unfold before them. Golden ships filled the skies, shining brighter than the sun. Disrupter beams stabbed down, blowing apart buildings, starting fires that quickly raged out of control. The colonists had only a handful of attack ships for defense, and not one of them made it off the pads. The streets were choked with people, running and screaming, driven from what they'd thought were safe harbors by the unrelenting assault. Humanity routed, panicked, on the run.

  And then came the ground troops. An army of Hadenmen hitting the streets, augmented, merciless warriors of the Genetic Church. They were tall and perfect, moving with inhuman grace, stalking the city streets unaffected by the heat and smoke, killing everything that moved that was not them. Steel angels flecked with blood, bearing the wrath of their cybernetic god. T
here was no pity in them and no hesitation, and they stepped calmly over the dead and the dying to get at those still running before them. They killed with guns and swords and their own augmented strength, ripping people apart, tearing their limbs away and smashing their heads against unyielding walls. The streets were full of screams, and blood ran thickly in the gutters, but none of that meant anything to the silent Hadenmen. They knew only logic and efficiency and the grim, unyielding destiny they brought to Brahmin II. The survivors would be transformed, and the dead harvested for raw material. Nothing would be wasted once they controlled the world. Men would become Hadenmen. Nothing else mattered.

  The record tapes were often short and jerky, recorded by news cameramen on the run, trying to stay alive long enough to get their pictures out to the Empire. They were all dead now, but their testaments survived. And the scenes they had broadcast live had inspired a rage and a determination throughout the Empire to stop the Hadenmen and drive them back, whatever the cost. Brahmin II had been avenged. Eventually.

  Owen frowned as the last of the tapes ran out and the viewscreen cleared. "I'd seen most of that before. When I was researching a paper, back in my historian days. But to see it all, added together… What happened to Brahmin II in the end?"

  "When the Hadenmen knew they were losing the war, and they had no choice but to abandon Brahmin II, they paused just long enough to kill everyone they hadn't transformed. Everyone they could find. When Imperial troops finally touched down, all they found were bodies piled in the streets and a handful of survivors: women and children, hiding, overlooked. From a colony of millions, only eighty-three survivors. Most of them quite mad from all they'd witnessed. And that's what happened when the Hadenmen first came to Brahmin II."

  "Dear God, Hazel," said Owen. "What have I done? What have I unleashed on the Empire?"

  "We knew the dangers," said Hazel. "There was always the chance they'd changed. That they'd learned something from their defeat. Everyone deserves a chance at atonement, even Hadenmen. Right?"

  "We might have won the battle only to lose the war," said Owen. "If we can't stop the new Hadenmen Crusade right here."

  "Hold everything. We're going to stop the new Crusade of the Genetic Church and a whole damn army of augmented men? Just you and me?"

  "Sure," said Owen. "We're invincible heroes, remember? You saw the movie."

  "I have seen more realism in commercials by moneylenders," said Hazel flatly, then sighed heavily. "All right, tell me your plan. Tell me you have a plan, at least."

  "I've been trying to come up with one all the way here," Owen admitted. "So far without much success. I think our best bet may be a frontal approach. Just walk into the main city and demand to speak to whoever's in charge. They claim to respect me as their Redeemer, since I opened their Tomb and brought them back to life. Maybe I can trade that against their need for this planet. Offer myself in place of the colonists. Or at least as many colonists as a Redeemer is worth."

  "Weren't you listening to me at all, Owen? You can't make deals with Hadenmen. You deliver yourself into their hands, and at best they'll kill you. At worst they'll make you into a Hadenman. No, Owen, we're going to have to be a little more subtle than usual this time. We tried fighting an army on Mistworld and nearly died, for all our powers. We need a strategy, and that means more information about what's currently going on dirtside. Like how many Hadenmen there are, where they're situated, that kind of thing."

  "I've got Oz scanning. Any luck, Oz?"

  "Not a damned thing. There are shields everywhere. I can't even pick up something as basic as life signs. Whatever's going on down there, they don't want anyone to know about it."

  "He says no," said Owen. "Which means we have to go down there in person if we're to get any new information."

  "All right," said Hazel, scowling. "But we go in undercover, stick to the shadows, and keep our heads well down."

  "I've been trying to explain that principle to you for what seems like years," said Owen. "I'm delighted to see some of my teachings have finally taken root."

  "Don't get smug again," said Hazel. "I do have a few brain cells of my own. Look, we have one advantage that the Hadenmen don't. I learned a few things about Brahmin II's main city while I was working there. Unless these things have changed drastically in the years I've been gone, I should be able to sneak us into the main city unnoticed, so we can do a little clandestine spying. Sound good to you?"

  "Sounds like a plan to me," said Owen. "I'm impressed. Really. Oz, put us into low orbit around Brahmin II, maintaining full power for all our shields."

  "Damn right I will," said the AI. "Get comfortable. This could take a while. I'm going to have to very cautiously ease us through the Hadenmen ships surrounding the planet, and hope like hell our shields will hold up at close range. If they don't, I doubt very much that we'll get a chance to ask for our money back. Feel free to pray to any gods who might owe you a few favors."

  The golden ships filled the viewscreen as the Sunstrider II edged slowly forward, slipping through the cordon like a minnow swimming among whales. The golden ships were vast and forbidding, bigger than cities and more dangerous, with enough firepower to back down an Imperial starcruiser, but one by one they slid slowly past, silent and unconcerned, knowing nothing of the slender silver needle slowly threading through the defenses. Finally the last Hadenmen ship fell behind them, and the Sunstrider II moved into a secure low orbit over Brahmin II. Hazel let out a triumphant whoop, and Owen stopped crushing the armrests of his chair with his hands.

  "Well done, Oz," he said aloud. "Theoretically, I was pretty sure the shields would hold, but obviously I had no way of testing it in advance."

  "Wait a minute," said Hazel. "What exactly made you so sure? Do you know something about this ship that I don't?"

  Owen smiled just a little condescendingly. "You seem to have forgotten this ship was rebuilt by the Hadenmen. Since we know they incorporated their advanced tech into other parts of the ship, it seemed only logical that they would also have rebuilt the ship's shields to their own exacting standards. Seems I was right."

  "Well, yes and no," said Oz in his ear. "The shields were powerful enough to hide us from the golden vessels, but the Hadenmen have much more powerful devices dirtside. Their sensors punched right through our shields the moment we emerged inside the protective blockade. Luckily, I was able to back up our shields with a little creative thinking. When you had me take over control of this ship from the original—and I might add, highly inferior—AI that the Hadenmen installed to run things, I was able to access all kinds of interesting information in its memory banks. Using the old Al personality as a mask, I was able to slip unobtrusively into the computer nets down on the planet, and instruct them not to register our presence. The program I've set running won't last forever, but it should last more than long enough for you and Miss Death-on-two-legs to make your investigation below. Feel free to applaud and throw roses."

  "Well done, Oz," said Owen. "I didn't know you could do things like that."

  "There's lots you don't know about me," said Oz airily. "I am large. I am magnificent. I can work miracles."

  "Don't you start getting cocky too," said Owen. "Keep monitoring our shields and your program, and let me know the instant there's any sign they've been detected. Now, what's the situation on our sensors? Can you use your computer link to sneak us some information on the planet's surface?"

  "Don't see why not," said Oz. "Of course, it does increase the probability that someone's going to notice my program sooner rather than later."

  "Tough. I need information. Show me what's going on down there."

  "You've gone all quiet again," said Hazel. "And your face has gone through all kinds of changes. Are you talking to that ghost AI again?"

  "Ah," said Owen. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was subvocalizing. Oz has found a way to run sensor scans on the planet's surface. And he's not a ghost."

  "Then how come you're the only one who
can hear him?"

  "She's got a point," said Oz.

  "Shut up, Oz," said Owen. "Look, maybe it's something to do with the Madness Maze. He was there in my head when we all went through. Maybe the experience… changed him."

  Hazel sniffed. "I still say it's damned spooky."

  "I couldn't agree more," said Oz. "I try not to think about it too much. Otherwise I start worrying about awkward questions like where the hell my hardware is these days."

  "We can argue about the nature of existence later," said Owen firmly. "Sometime when we're not surrounded on all sides by a whole army of cybernetic killers. Now, put the sensor scans on the main viewscreen, dammit."

  "All right, all right," said Oz. "Sensor displays coming right up."

  "Colonization never really got started again here after the first colony was wiped out," said Hazel as they waited for the first pictures of the planet's surface to come in. "Population never really rose much above a million. Local ecosphere is pretty bleak, making farming difficult, and the mines are hard work, without much in the way of payoff. And after the Hadenmen attack nobody would volunteer to come here. Eventually the powers that be had to promise extra land, higher bonuses, on-site troops, and permanent Fleet protection. They really wanted those mines working again. In the end, enough of the truly desperate allowed themselves to be persuaded by the new package to make a new start on Brahmin II, and the colony was up and running again. Only the Fleet had to be called away during the rebellion and never went back. And while we were all preoccupied with other things, the Hadenmen just walked right in and took control all over again. The colonists were sitting ducks. Poor bastards. It must have been their worst nightmare come true."

  "Another price we paid for victory," said Owen. "Another mess for us to clear up. And something else for me to feel guilty over. Sometimes I wonder why I started out on this road."

  "Because otherwise you'd have been killed. Don't beat yourself up, Owen. There's any number of people back on Golgotha who'd be only too happy to do it for you. We overthrew the Iron Bitch and put an end to a system based on oppression and brutality. In the end, that justifies everything we had to do."