Deathstalker d-1

by Simon R. Green

  The man who used to be called Hood walked unhurriedly through Silo Nine's corridors, his cowl pushed well back to reveal himself as the Lord High Dram. Some of the underground prisoners spat at him, before the guards clubbed them down, but Dram just smiled. There were bodies everywhere, and he had to step over and around them. Parts of the prison were still burning. And Wormboy was dead. On the whole, he had to admit his operation to crush the underground had not been as successful as he'd hoped.

  But, a great many espers and clones were dead, and the guards had captured as many as had escaped. The underground's plan to break out all the prisoners had been foiled. The prison could be repaired, and they could always grow another Wormboy. Eventually. More importantly, Mater Mundi had been forced to reveal herself, and the extent of her powers. And that was worth a great many dead guards. She'd find it a lot harder to find a bushel to hide her light under now. The underground would be scattered again, thanks to his knowledge of their inner workings. His people were already raiding the appropriate locations. It would take the underground years to recover and regroup.

  As Hood, he could identify many names and faces, including Finlay Campbell, Evangeline Shreck and Valentine Wolfe. Finlay didn't matter anymore, but the other knowledge should give him great power over the Shrecks and the Wolfes. They would be only too willing to bow to him to prevent their names becoming a scandal. Power like that was worth a lot.

  The Empress would take steps to see that this operation was regarded by everyone as a great success, playing up the gains and turning a blind eye to the losses. It should be more than enough to justify her making him her official consort. And he even had some captured cyberats to give to Lionstone to help her with her problems in the Matrix. They'd cooperate rather than face conditioning. And finally, the captured clones and espers would make fine subjects for his experiments with the esper drug. As official consort, no one would be able to deny him access to the prisoners, or ask what became of them afterward.

  Dram smiled and smiled as he walked, and the guards gave him plenty of room, especially when he started to chuckle aloud.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Madness Maze

  It was black as the deepest pit of hell, and not a light anywhere. Once there had been stars, burning bright in the darkness, but they were gone. No suns shone in the Darkvoid, and its frozen planets sailed silently in a night without end. The Last Standing of the original Deathstalker dropped out of hyperspace without a murmur and drifted into orbit around the lifeless rock of the Wolfling World, also known as lost Haden. The castle hung above the planet in a halo of its own light, a huge stone structure with towers and battlements, looking down over an endless abyss. The light didn't travel far, as though the darkness resented it, but some of it touched the Wolfling World, gleaming gently on the frozen atmosphere. There was no sign of life on the planet; all its mysteries were deep underground, safely concealed in the hidden heart of lost Haden.

  Inside the Standing, the small group of rebels stood before a wide viewscreen that showed what it could of the planet below. Owen Deathstalker, outlawed Lord of Virimonde, who still thought himself a historian rather than a warrior. Hazel d'Ark, pirate, bon vivant and reluctant rebel. Jack Random the professional rebel and Ruby Journey the bounty hunter. Tobias Moon, the augmented man, come home at last. And Giles, the original Deathstalker, creator of the Darkvoid. They looked at the darkness he had brought about by the snuffing of a thousand suns and felt a little of the long night's chill seep into their bones. There were still stars on the far side of the Rim, outside the Darkvoid, but something in the void's essential nature prevented any light from entering. Owen found his hand had fallen instinctively to the sword at his hip. There was something dangerous, even threatening, about such absolute darkness.

  "Welcome to the Wolfling World," said Giles. He was still wrapped in his battered, greasy furs and was gnawing on his third protein cube. Apparently being kept in stasis for over nine centuries had given him something of an appetite. Owen had tried one of the protein cubes earlier, on learning it was the only kind of food the castle could currently produce, and had decided very definitely that he'd rather go hungry. Giles wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and studied the Darkvoid with enigmatic eyes.

  "This is the first light that planet has seen in nine hundred and forty-three years. I suppose it's only fitting that I should be the one to bring back the light, since I was the one who took it away. Sometimes I wonder if there are things living in the dark places between the planets, dark creatures, thriving in the endless night I brought about in a moment of fury and weakness.

  "The last time I was here, this was a living world, brimming with life. There were oceans and continents, beasts of the earth and of the air, cities and people. There were beautiful birds with tails of fire, and tourists flew through the Sighing Mountains on chartered gravity sleds. All gone now, crushed under the weight of a frozen atmosphere. All that remains are the Madness Maze and the Hall of the Fallen, and the cities and laboratories of lost Haden, quarried deep in the heart of the planet. Undisturbed for so long, waiting for us to awaken them."

  "Tell us about the Wolflings," said Hazel. She kept her eyes on the viewscreen, her hands automatically polishing her sword blade with a dirty rag that also served as a handkerchief. "You said they were created here."

  "Yes. Born and died here, all but one. They were the Empire's first try at creating genetically engineered soldiers. A pinch of man, a pinch of wolf, and a few special ingredients. It took them a while to get the mix just right, but finally they ended up with a perfect hunting and killing machine, unparalled in human evolution. The Wolfling."

  "So what went wrong?" said Ruby. She was watching Giles with her usual impassive face, her pale features almost ghostly above her black leathers. Owen couldn't help noticing that she had her hand resting near her sword, too.

  "Nothing went wrong with the Wolflings," said Giles. "They were everything they were supposed to be, and more besides. It was the more that upset the scientists. The Wolflings were smart, far smarter than their human masters. Faster, stronger, more savage—and smarter too? The scientists saw the possible shape of things to come and panicked. They called in the Imperial forces, lured the Wolflings to an arranged meeting and shot them down from ambush. Of course, the Wolflings fought back. Killed a lot of men before they finally went down. Some got away and had to be hunted down. The Empire lost a lot more soldiers doing that, but eventually they got them all. Except for one. The best of the best, and the most cunning. He evaded capture and all the traps they set. He was still here when the Empire finally gave up, and the Imperial forces went home. Sightings grew less and less, until finally he became just another myth, a legend, a story to tell newcomers. Of course he wasn't really dead. He'd gone underground.

  "He was still here when the Darkvoid fell, and everyone but he died.

  "He was still here when the scientists of lost Haden ventured into the Darkvoid in search of a safe place to hide their laboratories. He watched as they experimented upon themselves, designing ever more intricate hybrids of man and machine. The Hadenmen. He was there when they went out to conquer the Empire, and when they came limping back, defeated, to hide themselves away in their tomb and wait for a better time. He's down there now, watching and waiting, impossibly old, incredibly powerful, standing guard over the Madness Maze and the Hall of the Fallen."

  "How do you know so much about it?" said Random. "You were in stasis on Shandrakor while most of this was going on."

  "The Wolfling has been talking to my computers," said Giles. "And they have been talking to me. He's waiting to talk to us. Let's all be very polite, and perhaps he won't kill us."

  "He could try," said Ruby.

  "What do we need him for?" said Moon.

  "I told you: he guards the Madness Maze."

  "And what's that when it's at home?" said Hazel. "Something the Haden scientists came up with?"

  "Oh, no, my dear. It's much ol
der than that. There's nothing human about the Madness Maze. It was here long before humanity ever came to this world. The Empire colonists discovered it, deep within the planet, but they never did discover what it was. The Haden scientists deduced its function, but they had more important matters on their minds, the fools."

  "All right," said Owen. "I'll bite. What is the purpose of the Madness Maze?"

  "Evolution," said Giles. "And I am the only one ever to make use of its secrets. Now let's go down and say hello to the Wolfling. By the way, a word to the wise. He is currently under the misapprehension that we have a whole army of rebels on board this ship. Let's not disillusion him. You never know when you might need to run a bluff."

  "How do we get down there?" said Moon. His harsh, buzzing voice sounded as calm as it ever did, but his blazing golden eyes never once looked away from the planet on the viewscreen. "Do you have any pinnaces or shuttlecraft on this floating anachronism?"

  "As it happens, yes, but we can't use them. There's no way to reach the Maze or the Tomb of the Hadenmen from the surface anymore. What remains of the atmosphere has frozen solid. We'll teleport down. I left a portal close to the Maze the last time I was here. According to the Standing's instruments, it's still functioning. We built things to last in my day. When we weren't busy destroying them. If you'd all care to prepare yourselves as you see fit, we can go as soon as you're ready. Feel free to help yourselves to anything that catches your interest in the armory, but don't take too long about it. The Standing's power sources were nearly depleted when I came to Shandrakor, all those centuries ago, and most of what was left was used up maintaining the Standing. Until I have the opportunity to recharge the power cells, this ship isn't going anywhere. We're in no immediate danger, but unless you like the idea of being stranded on a world whose only points of interest are an alien Maze and a large Tomb, I suggest we all hurry."

  Owen and Hazel made their way down to the armory, where an empty suit of armor with a missing helm politely opened the door for them. Owen regarded it suspiciously. He didn't remember it being there the last time he'd visited. Hazel ignored the armor and made straight for the more impressive-looking projectile weapons. Owen watched amusedly as she loaded herself down with guns and bandoliers of ammunition. He settled for a nasty-looking handgun that used big, bulky bullets and a few grenades to fill his pockets. No doubt they'd come in handy, but on the whole he still thought he'd stick with the weapons he was used to. Guns were all very well, but in his experience, in the end it always came down to cold steel, and the man wielding it. Besides, at the rate Hazel was accumulating guns, they'd have to move her around on a trolley. She continued rooting through the rifle racks, unaware of his growing amusement, and finally came up with a gun so long and heavy it took all her strength just to lift and aim it.

  "Good choice," said Owen solemnly. "When you run out of ammunition, you can use it to club the enemy to death."

  Hazel sniffed and reluctantly put the rifle back. She looked at her collection of guns and grinned suddenly at Owen.

  "Come a long way, haven't we, aristo? From a not particularly successful pirate and an outlawed Lord running for his life to the leaders of a new rebellion. Who'd have thought it?"

  "We're only potentially a rebellion," said Owen. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than the six of us to drag Lionstone off the Iron Throne. Jack Random's been fighting the Empire all his life, and you saw what it's done to him. All right, if we can awaken the Hadenmen, and if we can persuade them to fight on our side, then we might be in with a chance. All kinds of people might rally to our banner if they thought we already had an army. But I'm not at all happy about placing any trust in Hadenmen. Who's to say they wouldn't be following their own, hidden, agenda? They killed a lot of innocent people in their last attempt at a rebellion. The only reason they're not still officially designated the Enemies of Humanity is because the AIs on Shub are even nastier than the Hadenmen were. And that took some doing."

  "You worry too much," said Hazel. "The Hadenmen will behave themselves as long as we've got control of the Darkvoid Device. You know, these are really great guns.

  I've been studying their specifics in the computers. They aren't worth spit against force shields, but they'll chew up anything else you aim them at. Apparently there's something called a recoil we'll have to get used to, but no doubt we'll soon get the hang of it."

  "Until we run out of ammunition," said Owen. "We can't just run back to the castle for more in the middle of a firefight. With a disrupter, you can recharge the energy crystals at any handy power source, and you're ready to go again."

  "You always have to see the bad side of things, don't you? The point is, the Empire won't be expecting guns like these, and by the time they've worked out an effective response, we'll have kicked six different colors of shit out of them."

  Owen frowned. "You really think the Empire is going to follow us here? Into the Darkvoid?"

  "Of course. Don't you?"

  "Yes," said Owen unhappily. "They've been right behind us all the way. There's only one answer that makes any sense. We have a traitor in our group."

  "Not necessarily," said Hazel. "Someone could have planted a homing device on us."

  "No. One or another of our security systems would have found it by now. It's too obvious."

  "But… none of us have any reason to betray the group! We've all got good reasons for being here, and none of us have any reason to love the Empire."

  "How about fear? Or blackmail? Or money? There's a hell of a lot of credits on our heads these days. People will break under all kinds of pressure."

  Hazel glared at him. "Anyone you feel like pointing the finger at?"

  "No," said Owen steadily. "Not at the moment. Perhaps I'm wrong. We've all been through a lot. Sometimes I feel guilty at dragging you all into my problems."

  "Don't. I'm having a great time. And you didn't drag me into anything. I chose to save your sorry ass on Virimonde. And you saved my life on Mistworld, so we're even."

  "I couldn't let you die."

  "Why not?"

  "You matter to me," said Owen slowly. "I've never met anyone like you, Hazel."

  Hazel looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Don't start getting ideas, stud. This is strictly a marriage of convenience."

  "Relax. Deathstalkers only marry for status. You're entirely safe."

  Hazel decided to change the subject. "How many men do you think the Iron Bitch will send after us?"

  "At least one starcruiser, possibly two. We've made her people look bad so far, and she won't like that. We can expect full contingents of attack troops, maybe even Wampyr and battle espers. And whether she knows the Device is here or not, this has got to be a matter of pride for her now. If she doesn't stamp on us hard, and soon, her own people will start thinking she's losing control of things. And some of them might try a little quiet insurrection of their own to test the waters. No, Lionstone will send as many troops as it takes to bring us down."

  "Good," said Hazel, hefting a rifle and smiling at the weight of it. "Let them all come."

  "You worry me sometimes," said Owen.

  Jack Random and Ruby Journey had already outfitted themselves at the armory with a good selection of weapons and were currently in the kitchen trying to persuade the food machines to dispense anything other than protein cubes. They'd tried every combination of codes, including shouting at the machine and giving it a swift kick or two, but all they got for their troubles were more protein cubes. There were stories of marooned starfarers who'd eaten each other rather than live off those cubes, and Jack could understand why. But be was hungry, and at his age his body needed all the fuel it could get, so he made himself eat all of one cube and part of another. People had been awarded medals for less.

  Ruby had refused point-blank to touch the things, but brightened up considerably on discovering the machine could dispense a quite drinkable wine. She got through half a bottle while Jack was struggling with his cubes an
d got quite chatty, for her. Normally, getting conversation out of the bounty hunter was like pulling teeth. To be fair, she was an action person, and most of the time really didn't have anything to say. But Jack persevered on the grounds that anything that might take his mind off what he was eating had to be a good thing, and they talked on and off for a while, mostly swapping anecdotes on particular fights and battles and the best ways to kill people.

  "Why did you become a bounty hunter in the first place?" said Random eventually. "It's not an occupation that appeals to everybody."

  "I was good at it," said Ruby. "And the alternatives were worse. Can you see me sitting at a desk in sensible clothes shuffling files, or married to some dirt farmer with a dozen kids hanging from my apron strings?"

  "Not really, no."

  "Damn right They married me off at fourteen to the local collector of the water rates. It was either that or one of my cousins. He was big and heavy, with clammy hands. He thought it was fun to knock me about. He did other things, too. I waited till he was asleep one night, and then stabbed him in the throat with a carving knife. I watched him die. It took quite a long time. That was when I first realized I had a taste for excitement. I gathered up everything valuable that wasn't nailed down, torched the place and ran for the starport. I've been on my own ever since, and I like it that way. Less complicated."

  "Have you done much work for the Empire?"

  "Sure. They're the ones paying the bounties, mostly. But I'm not prejudiced. I'll work for anyone with money."

  "So what are you doing with us?"

  "I never could resist a challenge. Besides, I was promised all the loot I could handle. Not that I've seen any of it yet."