Even out-on-the-edge weirdos like Jenny Psycho. Owen worried about her. The espers would follow her blindly, just because she had once manifested the Mater Mundi, Our Mother of All Souls. They saw her as a saint now. A crazy saint, but none the less holy for that. And there was no denying she was powerful as hell. When Jenny really let loose, reality trembled. But with someone as maltreated and disturbed as Jenny Psycho, the balance of her mind was only a sometime thing now, and it was only a matter of time before she broke apart along the stress lines. Owen had already decided that when that happened, he wanted to be really far away.
Ruby Journey… looked as disturbing as ever. If she hadn't been Hazel's longtime friend, Owen thought he would probably have shot her on general principles by now. Having Ruby around was like sharing a very confined space with a paranoid attack dog that had slipped its leash. The best you could really hope for with Ruby Journey was to point her in the right direction and then follow the trail of bodies.
What Jack Random saw in her remained a mystery to Owen. Perhaps the man just liked living dangerously. There was no denying he'd been through some amazing changes. It was as though his body had turned back time, denying the passing years to become young and vital again. Owen wondered if aging was a thing of the past for all of them now, since they'd been altered by the Madness Maze. And if so, how long they might all live… Owen tried to visualize a future life stretching endlessly away before him, forever young, and then he smiled and shook his head. Much more likely they'd all be slaughtered down on Golgotha. Get through that first, and he'd worry about eternity later. He made himself concentrate on Random. The professional rebel looked sharp and deadly, eager to throw himself headlong into a battle he'd been looking forward to all his life. Despite himself, Owen worried about that, too. Such determination tended to be dangerously single-minded. Sometimes Owen thought Jack Random would walk right over the body of his best friend to reach the victory he craved.
Owen felt guilty thinking such things about his friends and comrades, but his discovery on Mistworld of how little he'd really understood about Hazel had started him thinking, and he couldn't seem to stop. It seemed they all had obsessions and private agendas, and the old togetherness that the Maze had gifted them with seemed to have vanished during their separation. He could still feel their presence around him, but he could no longer sense what they were thinking or feeling. The closeness that had them finishing each other's thoughts and sentences was gone. They were no longer linked, mind to mind, as though what they'd been through on their various missions had changed them so much they weren't the same people anymore.
He could still feel the Maze's power, burning brightly within them, and no more so than in his ancestor Giles.
Owen studied the man thoughtfully, his hand unconsciously dropping to the sword at his side. Giles was still scowling at the view on the screen, lost in his own thoughts, ignoring the others. Of them all, Giles had seemed the most reluctant to investigate or use the powers the Maze had bestowed on him. As though they were a necessary evil, only to be used when there was no other choice. On the one occasion Owen had raised the matter with him, Giles had said curtly it was enough to be a Deathstalker, and that was the end of that conversation. Owen and Giles had always found it difficult to talk. They came from very different times and backgrounds, for all their shared name, and it seemed the only thing they had in common was the rebellion. Giles had briefly tried to be a father figure to Owen, after he had to kill his own estranged son, the original Dram, but Owen had put a stop to that. He'd had enough of his real father trying to run his life. He was his own man, and if the life he'd made for himself wasn't quite what he'd expected or intended, it was still his, and he guarded it jealously.
And even beyond that, there were the quiet niggling suspicions that murmured at the back of Owen's mind and wouldn't be silenced. He couldn't help thinking that Giles often seemed to be remarkably well informed on the current situation, for a man who had supposedly spent the last 943 years in stasis… He pushed the thought aside, for the moment, and moved over to join his ancestor beside the viewscreen.
"How does it feel to be home again, after so long?" he said quietly. "Is it what you expected?"
"No," said Giles, just as quietly, not looking away from the screen. "Almost a thousand years have passed since I last saw Golgotha, but it seems like only yesterday to me. Everyone I ever knew or cared for down there is long dead and gone to dust. Instead, the place is overrun with clones and espers, the Families have grown soft or corrupt or insane, and the Empire… the Empire I remember no longer exists. I feel like a ghost, fighting a ghost's old battles, not noticing that the world has moved on without me. The Empire was falling apart even in my day, but I never dreamed it would end up like this. I don't know whether to save it or put it out of its misery. It's like a sick distortion of everything I ever believed in. But I will put things right. I will wake the people from the nightmare of history and rebuild the Empire as it should be."
"With a little help from your friends," Owen said lightly.
Giles looked at him for the first time, his solid, lined face impassive. "Of course, kinsman. I couldn't have come this far alone. You and your friends have made all this possible. I'll never forget you. Now, time for a conference, I think, before the battle begins and we all go rushing off in different directions. It may be some time before we can talk again."
"What's there to talk about?" said Ruby, calmly manicuring her nails with the edge of an evil-looking dagger. "We go down, kill everything in a uniform, grab as much loot as we can carry, and then race to see who gets to kill Lionstone. My kind of party."
"There are things we need to discuss," Giles said stubbornly. "The Madness Maze changed us all, but apparently in different ways. According to the reports you filed since you returned, and Ruby, I'm still waiting for yours, it would seem our… abilities have been developing in different ways. I have learned to teleport. Owen has become a psychokinetic. Jack and Ruby have manifested pyrokinetic abilities. And Hazel can summon alternative versions of herself from different timelines. I don't even pretend to understand how that works. None of this is what I expected."
"Why shouldn't we have changed in different ways?" said Random. "We're different people. And what do we really know about the Maze? That it was probably an alien artifact, that no one knows how old it might have been, or what its original purpose was, and that the last people to go through it created the Hadenmen. Not much to go on, is it?"
"Unless you know more about it than you've been letting on," said Hazel. "How about it, Giles? You been holding out on us?"
"Of course not," said Giles. "I did study it briefly, before I was hounded away to Shandrakor, but I never did understand its purpose. I'm not sure if anything human could. Now that it's gone, I don't suppose we'll ever know. What matters is that we have all been bestowed marvelous gifts, and it's up to us to try and understand them. Contrary to Ruby's comments, the fighting down on Golgotha isn't going to be easy or straightforward. Lionstone's got a whole army of Security people down there, plus the various armed forces, plus whatever nasty surprises she has set in place for just such an occasion as this. Never underestimate a ruler's paranoia. Lionstone always knew a day like this might come, and you can bet she's got plans in place to frustrate us."
"Damn," said Hazel. "He makes even longer speeches than you do, Owen. Must run in the Family."
"Is there a point in all this?" said Random. "I would prefer to go down and get involved before it's all over."
"The point," said Giles, "is that we need to split up. Spread our talents as widely as possible, hit Lionstone on as many fronts as possible."
"Hold everything," said Owen. "We've always been strongest together. Remember the force shield we raised on the Wolfling World? That was strong enough to stand off massed disrupter cannon at point-blank range. And Hazel and I worked miracles together on Mistworld. Who knows what we might be capable of if we all stuck together?"
&
nbsp; "We don't have the time to experiment," Giles said flatly. "The rebellion needs us now. I've put a lot of thought into this."
"Without consulting us," said Ruby.
"Right," said Random. "When was all this planning going on? The rest of us have been working our asses off on our missions."
"I don't sleep much," said Giles. "Now pay attention, please. We need to split into the following groups…"
"I'm not happy about this," said Hazel. "The last time we let the underground split us up, David and the SummerIsle went off on their own. Now David's dead, and Kid Death's joined the opposition."
"I miss David," Owen said suddenly. "I never really got to know him, and now I never will, but I miss him now he's gone. I'm the last of the direct line. The last of the Deathstalkers."
"That's not what's upsetting you," said Hazel. "You're just angry because since Virimonde's been destroyed, you can't go home again. You can never have your old life back. That's all you ever really wanted out of this rebellion, isn't it?"
"I don't know," said Owen. "Maybe. I never wanted to be a warrior. I was happy, being a scholar and an historian, with no pressures and no responsibilities. But I wouldn't go back, even if I could. I've seen too much. And David… he was a pain in the ass, but he had potential. There was so much I could have taught him… and now he's gone. Murdered by Kit SummerIsle. The same smiling bastard who killed my father. Whatever happens down below, the SummerIsle is mine."
"Good," said Giles approvingly. "You're starting to sound like a Deathstalker. You've come a long way, historian."
"And if I don't always like what I've made of myself, whom do I blame?" said Owen. "Sometimes I think I've become everything I ever hated. A man of violence, driven by revenge. Just another pawn in my father's plots and schemes to bring down the Empress. Just another barbarian at the gates of Empire."
There was an awkward silence, broken by an urgent chiming from the viewscreen. Giles switched to the new incoming signal, and Golgotha disappeared, replaced by Finlay Campbell, Evangeline Shreck, and Julian Skye, their faces filling the screen. They looked harried.
"What's holding you people up?" said Finlay, not bothering with any amenities. "We need you down here now. Everything's gone to hell in a handcart in the Parade of the Endless, the one city above all we have to hold. We can't tell who's winning anymore, if anyone is. Our people are all out on the streets, doing what they can, but we need you to bring things together. Just your presence will help to inspire the fighters. You've become heroes, legends, not least through Toby Shreck's coverage, and people will follow you where they won't follow us."
"Tell me more about the situation," said Giles, refusing to be pressured. "Who's on top at the moment?"
"Depends on who you talk to," said Evangeline. "Things are falling apart in the governing bodies incredibly quickly, and we're doing all we can to take advantage of that, but then, it's all been precariously balanced for a long time. It only needed a spark to set the people off. If we'd known they were this close to the edge, we'd have provided a spark ourselves, even if we had to make one up. But there are still a hell of a lot of troops and Security people out in the streets, and they're a damned sight better armed than most of our people. So we need you. Your powers could be the turning point. God knows we need one. We're fighting on so many fronts it's hard to make any real breakthrough."
"What about the Hadenmen?" said Owen, cutting in. "I've been worried about them. I woke them from their Tomb because we needed them, but after all, they were the official Enemies of Humanity before Shub came along. Are they behaving themselves?"
"Surprisingly enough, yes," said Julian Skye. "Their ships are only taking out the targets we gave them, and their ground fighting has proved a blessing. They make great shock troops. Half the time, the army forces run away rather than face them. Not that I blame them in the slightest. But all in all, the augmented men have been behaving impeccably. We've even had reports they've been taking prisoners, rather than just killing everything that moves, which surprised everyone. Not least the prisoners. Maybe they found God, in their Tomb. So, one of your better ideas, Deathstalker."
"Right," said Evangeline. "Now if you're quite happy, perhaps we could return to more pressing matters, namely the unholy mess in the Parade of the Endless…"
"Get your collective asses down here," said Finlay sharply. "Right now. We have to hold this city."
"Understood," said Owen. "We'll be there. We haven't come this far to miss out on the ending."
Finlay nodded, and cut off the signal. The image of their serious faces barely had time to clear from the viewscreen before another signal came in. Everyone in the great Hall straightened up a little as a new face filled the screen, and a great many hands dropped instinctively to weapons. The broad, shaggy wolf's-head looking down on them was dominated by the long muzzle full of sharp teeth, and the darkly gleaming eyes above, large and intelligent and almost overpoweringly ferocious. It was the Wolfling, the last of his kind, only survivor of the Empire's first attempt to build a superior fighting man. Last of a race butchered and slaughtered by a fearful humankind. Once guardian of the Madness Maze, and now protector of the sleeping Darkvoid Device. Giles smiled broadly at him.
"Wulf! I've been waiting for you to contact me! When will you be here?"
"I won't," said the Wolfling. His deep, dark voice was as much a growl as anything else, but an underlying sadness and tiredness took most of the threat out of it. "I told you, Giles. I've had enough of fighting. I've seen too much death and destruction to take pleasure in any more. Lionstone has to fall. I know that. But she'll go whether I'm there or not. You don't need me anymore, Giles. You've moved beyond me."
"But… we spent so long arguing and scheming over how we'd pull the Iron Bitch down! Don't do this to me, Wulf. Don't leave me here alone. You're my oldest friend, all I have left to remind me of the old days."
"That was always the difference between us, Giles. You want to remember the past, and I just want to forget it. Let your hatred go, Giles. I know all about hatred. Give it too much hold over you, and it'll eat you alive till there's nothing left in you but it. And that's no way to live. Do what you have to because it's the right thing to do, not because you enjoy it. I'm tired, Giles. I've lived too long, seen the Empire change beyond recognition, watched my race fall out of history and into legend. I think it's time for me to let go and follow them."
"Isn't there anything I can do for you?" said Giles, almost plaintively.
"Yes," said the Wolfling. "You can kill Lionstone for me. Whatever happens, she mustn't be allowed to escape. Kill her, Giles."
"Yes," said Giles. "I can do that for you."
The Wolfling nodded his great shaggy head, and the viewscreen went blank. Giles stared at it for a long moment, and then nodded slowly, as though listening to some private, inner voice. He turned back to the others, and his face was entirely calm and composed, as though daring the others to comment on the emotions they'd seen him display. When he spoke, his voice was brisk and formal.
"Aliens. We haven't discussed them yet. So far, there's been no sightings of any alien craft anywhere in the Empire since the attack on Golgotha, but we can't afford to forget them. They're out there somewhere, no doubt watching and planning. It's vital we get the rebellion over with as quickly as possible, and order restored. We can't afford to be caught helpless and divided by an invading alien force."
"And let's not forget Shub," said Owen. "There's always a chance the rogue AIs might try and take advantage of our divisions by launching an attack of their own."
"God, you're a cheerful lot," said Ruby. "Look, let's just get out of here and get this show on the road. We'll worry about aliens and AIs and plagues of frogs as and when they make an appearance."
"Right," said Hazel. "We're wasting time here."
"Good planning is never a waste," said Giles coldly. "Now pay attention. This is how we're going to do it. Owen's been doing some research on old records of the I
mperial Palace, back when it was first being constructed. I suppose his being an historian had to come in useful someday. The only way into the Palace today is by the underground train system, run and monitored by the Palace's security systems. The train stations are well guarded, and the train compartments themselves are fitted with lethal gas jets, just in case. However, Owen has discovered records of a number of old maintenance tunnels, long abandoned and apparently forgotten. We can use those to bypass the Security guards entirely, and gain access to the trains safely. Owen, Hazel, and I will undertake this mission."
"Hold everything," said the AI Ozymandius in Owen's ear. "Sorry to interrupt, boss, but your ancestor's words have tripped a file hidden deep within my memory by your father. He knew about these trains and tunnels, and has given me all the necessary security codes to get you onto the trains and into the Palace."
"Are you sure about this?" said Owen, subvocalizing. "If you get just one of those codes wrong, we're all dead."
"Trust me," said the AI. "This is the real thing, Owen. Your father believed in planning ahead."
Owen passed on the AI's words, and there was an awkward pause. Owen had always maintained he'd used his Maze powers to completely destroy the treacherous AI Ozymandius when it turned out to be working for the Empire, and tried to use control words it had implanted in Owen and Hazel to make them kill the others. Only sometime later Oz, or something claiming to be Oz, turned up in Owen's head again. No one but Owen could hear its voice, but the information it occasionally volunteered was always reliable. For the rest of the time, Owen tried hard to ignore it.
"Your father would naturally have tried to gain access to those codes," Giles said slowly. "I suppose it's possible he could have hidden them in your AI for safekeeping. There's no way of testing them here. I suppose we'll find out whether they're the real thing when we get there. It would certainly simplify things a lot. Even with our powers, breaking out of the Palace station was always going to be a major undertaking. So, it would appear we'll just have to trust Oz. Whoever or whatever he really is."
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