Deathstalker Honor d-4

by Simon R. Green

  "I work with Blue Block," said Kid Death. "They have access to all the best information. They know, for example, that Tarquil Vomak here has extensive gambling debts he couldn't possibly pay off on an MP's salary. So he sold his services to Golgotha security as a double agent. Isn't that right, Vomak?"

  "I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" said Vomak. "I don't owe anyone a penny! It must be someone else in my family." He rose to his feet, glaring at Donna Silvestri. "Tell your pet killer to back off! I'll prove my credentials to Blue Block just as soon as we get back to Golgotha! Tell him he's wrong!"

  "Blue Block intelligence is never wrong," said Donna Silvestri quite calmly. "We were only waiting for Valentine to arrive, so he could see how we deal with those who betray us."

  She nodded to Kid Death, and he drew his sword and cut off Vomak's head, all in one blindingly swift movement. The two Loki men cried out as blood sprayed across them. The headless body stood upright for a horribly long moment, its hands clutching at nothing, blood fountaining from the stump of the neck, and then it fell to the ground and lay there twitching. Vomak's wide-eyed head rolled slowly along the table, the mouth working silently, until it finally came to a halt before Donna Silvestri. She picked the head up by the hair and placed it on the ground by her chair, then smiled at Tallon and Jacks.

  "I always like to bring home a little souvenir when I go traveling."

  The two Loki men produced handkerchiefs and began cleaning sprayed blood from their faces. No emotion showed in their faces, but their hands weren't as steady as they might have been. Valentine bowed slightly to Donna Silvestri, in acknowledgment of the point made. Kid Death cleaned his blade with a rag and then sheathed the sword. His face was impassive save for a slight smile.

  "Time for another election in Graylake East," he said lightly.

  Donna Silvestri smiled at Valentine Wolfe. "I hope we understand each other."

  "Oh, we do," said Valentine. "I'm just glad I'm working with professionals for once."

  Julian Skye sat locked away in his bedroom again, staring at his reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite. He looked like shit. His body slumped in the oversized chair like a battered toy discarded by a child who played too rough. For once Julian wasn't thinking about his once love, BB Chojiro. He had more immediate concerns.

  He'd just been fired from his own holo show. Ever since the rebellion ended, and he discovered to his great surprise that he was still alive and on the winning side for once, he'd been making a good living starring as himself in a weekly holo series featuring his many exploits as a dashing, devil-may-care agent of the rebellion. Such shows were very popular right now, but his was the only one featuring the actual person concerned. His acting was frankly average, but the emphasis of the show had always been on stunts, explosions, and last-minute escapes, so he got by.

  Only now they'd fired him. Replaced him with a look-alike actor, because Julian didn't look like himself anymore. He'd been ill for some time, the continuing side effects of his incarceration in Lionstone's interrogation cells. They came and went, so he learned to live with them and got on with his life. But just recently he'd been getting worse. A lot worse. He thought he'd hidden it by not giving in to it, and working just as hard as always, but apparently you can't fool the camera.

  The show's executives had called him into their luxurious office, sat him down, made sure he had a large drink in his hand, and then showed him footage of himself as he used to be and as he was now. Julian was shocked by the difference. He'd become painfully thin, his face gaunt and hollowed, with dark shadows under the eyes. He looked twenty years older. The executives said they were very sorry to have to let him go, but makeup could only do so much. They assured him they'd be happy to take him back again once he was better, but everyone in the room knew that was a crock. He wasn't going to get any better.

  Those white-gowned bastards in the interrogation cells had killed him, after all. It just took a while for his death to catch up with him.

  So he'd gone home. Home was the old Sky Family house. Not a Tower. Not even in the same neighborhood. The Skyes had never been more than a very minor Family. And soon they wouldn't be a Family at all. Both of Julian's parents were dead, and all his grandparents. Wars and politics and duels. His uncles and aunts, knowing a sinking ship when they were on one, married into greater Families, and took those Families' names as their own. There were a few minor cousins, of various removes, but for all practical purposes, Auric and Julian had been the last generation of Skye. And they never had children.

  Now Julian Skye was the last of his line, and when he died the name would die with him. He couldn't really bring himself to care much. He'd never given a damn for being an aristocrat, not least because he was at the bottom of the pile, and looked down on by every other Clan. And he was an esper, which should have been impossible in the carefully controlled bloodlines and intermarriages of the Families. Espers weren't people. They were property.

  But somewhere along the line a Skye had gone to bed with someone they shouldn't have, and the esper gene had gone skinny-dipping in the Skye gene pool and emerged in Julian. If his parents had found out, they would have had him quietly killed. But as soon as Julian's powers started emerging, his older brother, Auric, was right there with him, calming his terror and helping him hide what he was from his Family and the world. No one ever knew. Till Auric died and Julian gave his life to the rebellion.

  And now here he was, back home again, living alone in an empty great house with most of the rooms shut up and only a few old Family retainers for company. They stayed out of loyalty, out of memory for the way things had been, rather than the money. Which was just as well. Julian had made a great deal of money as a holo star, but tended to spend it as fast as it came in. If the bank hadn't been so scared of him, they'd probably be sending him threatening letters by now. He would have worried how he was going to support himself in the future, if he'd thought he had a future.

  He hurt pretty much all the time now. There were painkillers, of course, but the only ones strong enough to deal with the pain left him sleeping all day or stumbling dimly around like a zombie. He preferred to spend whatever time he had left in his right mind. He was pretty sure he was going to die this time.

  He'd come close to dying on Haceldama, but Giles Deathstalker had used his powers to work a cure. Only like so many things with Giles, the appearance hadn't been reality. The cure hadn't lasted. And now Giles was dead, and the four remaining Maze survivors were all off-world somewhere on unknown missions. Even if he could have tracked them down, and brought himself to beg, he doubted very much they could get back to Golgotha in time to do him any good. And besides, he'd never been any good at begging. That was one of the things that had made him a rebel in the first place.

  Julian looked back over his early rebel days with a rueful smile. He'd been so young, so sure, ready to take on any mission, any risk, as long as it was for the cause. In retrospect, he had to admit he did it mostly for the thrills and the action. For the kicks. But he did a lot of good along the way, and saved as many lives as he took. The new government had wanted to give him all kinds of medals, but he'd politely turned them down. He never really felt he'd earned them, because it had all been such a good time.

  Until the Empire caught him, and put him in the interrogation cells, and gave him to the torturers. All because his one true love BB Chojiro betrayed him. She broke his heart, and they broke his spirit, and even though Finlay Campbell rescued him, he was never the same afterward.

  He sighed and did his best to push the old, bitter thoughts aside. If he was going to die, he was determined to make the most of what was left of his life. Have some fun while he still could. Do all the things he'd meant to do but never had because the rebellion intervened. He'd enjoyed his time as a rebel, had his fair share of adventures and more, but it had quickly taken over his life. There was never time to relax, let his guard down, have a good time with a few friends. The rebellion
had been his life.

  And then they took it away from him. By winning.

  He couldn't be an adventurer anymore. His fighting days were over. The new order had no use for him even before his frailty became clear. His brand of get the job done and to hell with the consequences fighting was out of fashion. It was all diplomacy now, with carefully worked-out deals and compromises put together in private smoke-filled rooms. Usually with someone from Blue Block adding quiet advice from the sidelines. It was all politics now, and Julian didn't understand any of it.

  He had considered going back to Haceldama and spending his final days in Summerland, but he couldn't do that. His death would have upset the toys too much.

  Most of his friends were dead. It had been a hard war, and the rebellion had chewed up young men and women as fast as it could take them. Julian had learned the hard way not to get too attached to anyone. The only real friend he had was Finlay Campbell, and these days the old assassin was in almost as bad shape as he was. Finlay had been coming apart at the seams for some time now, and the more Julian tried to help, the more Finlay pushed him away.

  The only other man Julian had really admired had been the legendary Young Jack Random. Julian never really got over finding out he'd been following a Fury, a Shub war machine in the shape of a man. He'd destroyed the Fury with his esp, but it hadn't helped. It seemed like every time Julian ended up trusting someone, they always betrayed him in the end.

  He'd killed the man who killed his brother, Auric, the Masked Gladiator himself, and that at least had been something he could be proud of. He could have killed the bastard a dozen times and never tired of it.

  And yet for all his successes in the rebellion, he hadn't been there at the end. Hadn't made it down to the hell Lionstone had made of her Court, hadn't got there in time to see the Iron Bitch dragged from her Throne and humbled before everyone. He'd seen the recording on the holo later, but it hadn't been the same. He should have been there. He'd wanted her to see his face, to know he'd helped bring her down. He'd paid for that right in blood and suffering and the loss of friends.

  So much bitterness in one short life. The more Julian thought about it, the more it seemed to him that there had only been two times in his life when he'd been really happy. The years he shared with his beloved older brother, Auric, and the months he spent with the woman they both loved, BB Chojiro.

  Auric went away and left him. He challenged the Masked Gladiator to a duel in the Arena, hoping to impress Clan Chojiro enough that he'd be allowed to marry the lovely BB. He hadn't expected to win the duel, but he thought if he put up a good enough show, the Arena crowds would turn up their thumbs for him. The crowds always like a plucky underdog. But the Masked Gladiator killed him anyway.

  Julian had gone to comfort BB, and she cried in his arms, and he cried too. Not long after, they fell in love, and he was so happy for a time.

  Out of all his life, the only piece of unfinished business he had left was BB Chojiro. He still wasn't sure how he felt about her. Part of him wanted to kill her so badly he could taste it. To make her suffer as he'd suffered. In the openness of young love, he'd told her all about his role in the rebellion, and she handed him over to the torturers without a second thought, because she was Blue Block.

  He thought about going to see her one last time. To put an end to their unfinished business one way or another. It wouldn't be easy getting an audience with such a popular and busy person, but he was pretty sure he could do it. She was important these days, but he was a person of no small importance himself. His holoshow had put him in the public eye as one of the better-known rebel heroes. His audience loved him, or at least the version of him they saw on his show every week. He even had his own fan club. So many letters came in, and requests for photos, that he'd had to hire a secretary just to deal with them. He'd let her go a few weeks back. The demand for photos had gone down as his physical condition worsened and the letters trailed away.

  But no one knew how ill he really was. He was still getting invitations to all kinds of social and political gatherings. A lot of Clans had found it in themselves to overlook how minor a House his Family was in their keenness to have him marry one of their unattached daughters. A rebel hero like Julian Skye would make an excellent spokesman for any Clan determined to be taken seriously in the new politics. Many had gone on a charm offensive, and all but pushed pretty faces at him every time he appeared in public. Julian had gone along with it. He did so love to dance, and it pleased his ego to be seen on all the news and gossip shows with a pretty girl always hanging on his arm. A small childish part of him hoped BB might be watching.

  Clan Chojiro had never pursued him. BB had never believed in begging. She was probably still waiting for him to come to her.

  Julian sat up straight in his chair and put in a call to Clan Chojiro. The viewscreen on the wall quickly cleared to show a severe, cold face that Julian recognized as the current head of Chojiro security. Presumably his name had been flagged. Julian gave the man his best intimidating smile, formally introduced himself, and asked to speak to BB. The security chief smiled back and said he'd see what he could do. His face disappeared from the screen, replaced by a soothing image of a brook running through a forest, accompanied by gentle tinkling music. Julian scowled. He hated being put on hold. The last time someone had left him waiting too long he'd taken all his clothes off and flashed them on their return. The Church wouldn't make that mistake again. The screen cleared to reveal a familiar face.

  Julian raised an eyebrow. "Cardinal Brendan. I didn't think you were admitting you had any connection with Blue Block these days."

  "Officially I'm not, but you're a special case. Good to see you again, Julian. You're looking very well."

  "Maybe I should give you the address of my optician. Don't flatter me, Cardinal. I know what I look like. Now, why am I talking to you and not BB?"

  "I'm afraid she doesn't want to talk to you just now, Julian. You must understand; you and BB parted under very unhappy circumstances, and she quite rightly has some fears that you might still wish her harm."

  "Now, why should she think that?" said Julian pleasantly. "Just because she betrayed me into the gentle hands of the Imperial tormentors?"

  "It was a different time then," said Brendan. "I'm sure we all did things then that we have come to regret now. The new order is a new beginning for all of us, a chance to put the past behind us and remake ourselves as we would wish to be."

  "Save the pretty speeches," said Julian. "You were a slimy creep then and you're a slimy creep now, and when you die they won't have to bury you; they can just pour you down the nearest drain, so you can join all the other turds. BB gave you a message for me. Stop pretending to be someone important and pass it on."

  "As you wish," said Cardinal Brendan, entirely unmoved. "BB has asked me to say that she still has warm feelings for you, but that if you ever wish to see her again, you will have to prove your feelings are genuine."

  "And just how do you suppose I do that? Bunch of flowers, nice box of chocolates, the dead body of an enemy? Try me, Cardinal. I'm in a generous mood."

  "You must prove your good intentions by presenting to her the bound and helpless figure of the Chojiros' greatest enemy."

  "I always thought that was me, but women can be so fickle. Which poor bastard does she have in mind?"

  "Finlay Campbell."

  Julian stared at the viewscreen for a long moment. "You want the Campbell?"

  "Your friend, yes. Your staunchest ally in the rebellion. How better to show your devotion to BB?"

  "If I ever find out this was your idea…"

  "I'm just the messenger, Julian. But even a failed ham actor like yourself must know that nothing of true value ever comes without a price tag. How much is BB's love worth to you? And it's not as if the Campbell's been much of a friend to you lately. How long before he turns on you, as he already has with so many old allies? He's not a happy man. Help put him out of his misery, and ours. A
nd prove your worth at the same time."

  "Betrayal," said Julian Skye. "Is that all you Chojiros understand?"

  "Such a harsh word. Say rather that Clan Chojiro admires a man strong enough to live by his own rules. And know who his true friends are. So, may I inform BB that she can expect a package soon?"

  "I'll think about it," said Julian, and broke the connection.

  Flynn entered Toby Shreck's office at Imperial News Headquarters and looked disparagingly about him as he pushed the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot. He was wearing standard work clothes, but hadn't been able to resist just a touch of mascara and blusher. He sniffed loudly and fixed Toby with a withering gaze. "You've had the place redecorated again, I see. I still don't like it. Really, Toby, all this high tech and polished surfaces really isn't you. What this place needs is the feminine touch. Before the style police turn up and firebomb it on mental health grounds. What this office needs are pleasant pastel colors and big bunches of flowers everywhere. Flowers help to make a room."

  "Oh, good," said Toby, sitting hunched over the papers on his desk. "I'm behind with my work, the unions are making trouble again, and now you've turned up to irritate me. And don't you dare bring in any flowers. I'm no good with plants, Flynn. You know that. I only have to walk past a flower, and it dies of neglect just to spite me. I like my office fine just the way it is, thank you. Anyway, you're hardly in a position to throw stones. If I let you loose in here, you'd cover the walls with holos of big-eyed children and rush around putting doilies under everything."

  "And what's wrong with doilies?" said Flynn frostily. "A little delicate lace can do wonders to cheer a room up."

  "What are you doing here, Flynn?" said Toby patiently. "The day's over. Work is done. Go home and annoy someone else."

  "I will if you will. It's late, Toby. I thought you might like a lift."

  "Thanks for the thought, but I still have half a ton of paperwork to wade through. You wouldn't believe what ends up on this desk. I swear there are people in this building who couldn't take a dump after a vindaloo curry without the correct form signed by me. In triplicate. Ah, hell… would you like some tea, Flynn? It's one of the few things they do right around here."