Deathstalker Honor (34 page)

“After the rebellion I tried to hold things together, but too much had been destroyed. And I never was any good at politics. So eventually I said to hell with them all and took off on my own. I’m back as a pirate again, running my own ship, the
Faust
. Lots of opportunities for a pirate in an Empire thrown into chaos. But I missed you so much, Owen. So when I heard the call, I jumped at the chance.”

“That’s very . . . sweet,” Owen said carefully. “But I’m not necessarily the Owen you knew. After all, you’re very different from my Hazel . . .”

“Yes,” said Midnight, looking at Hazel just a little disparagingly. “You really do need to work out more, dear.”

“How about you?” said Owen, turning quickly to Bonnie Bedlam. “Did I hear you right? We’re . . .”

“Married, yes.” The tall, slender woman smiled at him, showing pointed front teeth. “We’ve been together almost two years now. You look a lot like my Owen. Before the piercings. And the tattoos. Golgotha survived in our rebellion, but unfortunately, so did the politicians. We tried hard to make a difference, but in the end we just got tired of banging our heads against all the lies and the corruption, and we took off on our own. We run Mistworld now. Doing a pretty good job, if I say so myself. It’s a smaller stage, and we can make more of a difference there. The Empire’s going to hell in a handcart, but then, it always was. We were stupid to think we could ever change the system.

“Jack was killed in a bomb blast outside Parliament. Ruby killed a whole bunch of people she blamed for his death. She’s on the run, with a price on her head. Last I heard, she was happy enough, running Blood on Madraguda. How about you?”

Owen told their story, with Hazel interrupting. When Owen was finally finished, Bonnie shrugged a few times, her piercings clattering attractively, and then fixed Owen with her gaze.

“So much for the potted histories. Let’s get down to business. What are we doing here? Why did Hazel choose us?”

“I just put out a call,” said Hazel. “And you were the two that answered.”

“I came because I wanted to see Owen again,” said Midnight.

“And I . . . was looking for a little action,” said Bonnie, smiling her disturbing smile. “Mistworld’s got too damned civilized of late.”

“Wonderful,” said Owen. “So . . . what abilities did the Maze give you?”

“I’m a teleporter,” said Midnight. “If I’ve been somewhere, I can go there again in a moment. Otherwise, I’m limited to line of sight.”

“Very useful,” said Hazel. “What about you, Bonnie?”

“I regenerate,” said Bonnie. “Any injury, big or small, in a matter of seconds. Nothing can stop me. I just keep coming.” She lifted her left index finger to her mouth, and calmly bit off the end, down to the first knuckle. The other three made sharp involuntary noises of distress. Bonnie just smiled, chewing unhurriedly. After a moment she swallowed and spat out the bone. Owen felt his last meal starting to come back up. Midnight and Hazel were both hanging onto his arms painfully tight. Bonnie held up the finger she’d bitten. It had already stopped bleeding. As the others watched, a new fingertip pushed its way out of the stump, complete with a new fingernail. In a moment the finger was good as new, with nothing to show it had ever been damaged. “Ah, what a rush,” said Bonnie Bedlam. “I love it.” She looked at Owen. “And where I come from, so do you. Darling.”

“ I have seen some truly disgusting things in my time,” said Hazel. “And that was very definitely one of them. I don’t know whether to puke or applaud.”

“I think she’d probably take puking as a form of applause,” said Midnight.

“We haven’t time for either,” said Owen, in what he hoped was a firm, calm voice. “Very impressive, Bonnie. Please don’t do it again. Now, why don’t we all move on to the matter at hand, namely opening this bloody seal so we can get into the city proper and start looking for the Hadenmen’s captives?”

“You’ve got Hadenmen here?” said Midnight Blue, looking sharply at Owen. “Where I come from, they vanished right after you freed them from their Tomb. Ungrateful bastards.”

“What the hell’s a Hadenman?” said Bonnie Bedlam. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Cyborgs,” said Hazel shortly. “Powerful, treacherous, and very nasty. And there’s a whole city full of them right above us. They’ve got human hostages. Lots of them. If they’re still alive . . .”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” said Owen. “And, hopefully, to work out a practical plan for rescuing them.”

“Assuming we don’t get horribly killed in the process,” said Hazel.

“Sounds like fun,” said Bonnie. “Is it okay if I kill a few of these Hadenmen?”

“Kill lots,” said Hazel. “Feel free.”

“After we’ve got the information we need,” said Owen firmly. “Spying first, killing later.”

“Don’t worry, Owen,” said Midnight. “A warrior always understands the need for subtlety. Am I not a thing of mists and shadows?”

“Don’t you start that,” said Owen. “I get enough of that stuff from my AI. If we do encounter any Hadenmen, I want all of us to make an effort not to start anything. There’s always the chance this has all been a hideous misunderstanding. And even if it hasn’t, maybe I can talk them into doing the right thing. They do claim to respect me as their Redeemer. And they did fight on our side during the rebellion.”

“Does your Owen make long, boring speeches as well?” asked Hazel, and both alternates nodded solemnly.

“The Hadenmen made our rebel victory possible,” said Owen loudly, ignoring Hazel. “How did you two manage without them?”

Midnight shrugged. “Slow and hard and bloody. Lots of people died. Lionstone always said if she went down, she’d take the Empire with her, and she came bloody close to succeeding.”

“Right,” said Bonnie. “The Iron Bitch and her Fleet made us pay heavy for our victory.”

“You see, Owen,” said Hazel gently. “You did do the right thing, after all.”

“Only if we can put a stop to whatever they’re doing now,” said Owen. He wasn’t ready to forgive himself yet, but he did take some small comfort from the thought of how badly things might have gone without his Hadenmen allies. He pointed out the four manual controls on the metal seal, and the four of them slowly cranked the massive weight open. Once the heavy bolts had withdrawn, the seal swung open remarkably easily. They left it standing open, just in case they had to make a sudden retreat in a hurry, and then Owen led the way into the narrow brick tunnel beyond. Within a few minutes they came to a simple steel grill set into the tunnel ceiling, through which light from above shone down in rigid shafts, cutting cleanly through the green haze of the sewer. The four of them clustered beneath the grill, but could see nothing beyond.

“We must be right under the street,” said Hazel. “Somewhere on the outskirts of the city. Want to pop up and take a look?”

Owen thought about it. “How far are we from where you entered the system the last time?”

“Miles,” said Hazel. “Well within the city proper.”

“We go up,” said Owen. “Less chance of Hadenmen this far out. Stand back while I do the honors.”

The metal grill gave easily under Owen’s hand, and Hazel gave him a boost up through the opening. He pulled himself up and out into the street, and looked quickly about him, eyes squeezed up against the light. The street was empty, and utterly quiet. Owen gave the all-clear, and took a closer look around as the others clambered up into the street to join him. They made a lot of noise, but there was no one there to hear it. No one at all.

The green-tinted haze drifted up out of the opening, slowly dispersing. Hazel kicked the grill back into place. All four of them took deep, satisfying breaths of the clear, slightly chilly city air as they looked around them, getting the vile stench of the sewers out of their mouth and nose. Owen and Hazel hadn’t actually gotten around to telling Midnight and Bonnie that the green air was poisonous, and since they were still alive and well, there didn’t seem much point now. They stamped their boots on the ground, trying to shake off the worst of the thick black gunk they’d been treading through, but were only partially successful. And yet despite all the noise they’d made, still no one came to investigate. Owen gave up trying to hush the others, and went back to looking about him.

They’d emerged right on the edge of Brahmin City, in an area apparently as yet untouched by the Hadenmen modifications. The buildings were just buildings, and there was no trace anywhere of the shimmering Hadenmen tech. The street was deserted, empty, with not a sound anywhere, nothing to show that people had ever been there. And despite the gathering evening, none of the street lamps had come on.

“Damn, this is spooky,” said Hazel. “There ought to be someone about. Somebody working. I mean, cities don’t run themselves.”

“Human cities don’t,” said Owen. “There isn’t even anyone looking out the windows. Even the most oppressed and subservient captives ought to have enough gumption left to peek out their windows to see what’s going on.”

“Want me to kick in a few doors?” said Bonnie.

“Not for the moment, thank you,” said Owen. “We’re here to rescue people, not terrorize them.”

“It must be getting dark inside those houses,” said Midnight. “But no one’s put on any lights yet.”

“Maybe it’s forbidden,” said Hazel.

“Maybe there’s no one home,” said Owen. “Maybe they’ve all been . . . taken somewhere.”

“I’ll tell you something else,” said Midnight, after they’d all thought about that one for a while. “There’s no transport running anywhere near here. We’d hear it if there was. Wherever we’re going, we’ll have to get there on foot.”

“We can do that,” said Hazel. “It’s not that big a city.”

“Hold everything,” said Owen. “When I first suggested a spy run into Brahmin City, I had in mind something a little more surreptitious than just strolling around in broad daylight.”

“Owen,” said Hazel, “there’s no one here to see us. And I for one have no intention of going back into that sewer for anything short of incoming fire. And pretty damn heavy fire at that. As long as we keep our ears and eyes open, no one’s going to be able to sneak up on us in this quiet.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” said Owen. “Okay, let’s take a little walk, see if we can find someone to answer a few pointed questions. Weapons at the ready, people, but don’t open fire unless you have to. We’re good, but I’m not sure even we could take out a whole army of Hadenmen. Personally, I’d still like to get in and out of this city without being spotted, but if we have to make contact with the Hadenmen, I still favor trying some kind of negotiation. Maybe we can make them see that even they can’t take on the whole Empire, even if it is weakened at present.”

“Good luck,” said Hazel. “You’re going to need it.”

Owen sniffed, and set off down the street. Midnight moved quickly after him, and slipped her arm chummily through his so they could walk together. Owen looked a little embarrassed, but didn’t try to pull away. Partly because he didn’t want to be rude and upset her, and partly because he wasn’t entirely sure Midnight would let him. She had a particularly muscular arm. Hazel and Bonnie strolled after them, both smiling at Owen’s discomfiture.

“Is your Owen as much a stuffed shirt?” said Hazel.

“Some,” said Bonnie. “But I’ve been working on him. He’s loosened up a lot since we got married. What’s your Owen like between the sheets?”

“We . . . haven’t made that kind of commitment yet,” said Hazel.

“What’s commitment got to do with it?” said Bonnie. “I’m talking about sex, not love. Hell, I bedded my Owen less than twenty-four hours after I first met him. He was so cute . . . I couldn’t keep my hands off his aristocratic ass. And men are always so much more reasonable when they’re getting their ashes hauled regularly. Try it.”

“I’ll bear it in mind,” said Hazel.

“So,” said Owen to Midnight. “What was your Owen like?”

“A hero, though he never wanted to be,” said Midnight. “ Impulsive, hardheaded, and too damn brave for his own good. He never cared about the odds; as long as it was for the cause, he’d jump right in with both feet and cut down anything that moved. A warrior, like all his Family.”

“Doesn’t sound a lot like me,” said Owen. “I only fought when I had to, when there was no other way.”

“My Owen . . . faced a harder fight than you. Our war was long and hard, and brought out the beast in all who fought in it. My Owen was a man of blood and destiny, who stormed through the battlefield in search of slaughter, grinning like a wolf. He lived for combat, never happier than when snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. He liked the long odds. He said they helped to even out the advantages the Maze had given him. The Deathstalker was always an honorable man, in his way. We had whole planets to avenge, and we knew nothing of mercy anymore. War was hell, and so we made ourselves into demons. We were warriors then, and life was so simple. If only the rebellion had never ended. We could have been happy forever.”

They walked on in silence for a while. Midnight had said all she had to say, and Owen was damned if he knew what to say in reply. He knew what she meant, about the beast. He’d felt it stir within him, the blood-drenched rage that cared nothing for causes or honor, that lived only for the knife-edge adrenaline rush of the battlefield. But he’d always fought it down, because he was a scholar, not a warrior; a man, not a beast. He wondered if Midnight’s Owen had been very different from him, if he wore the mark of the beast openly, with pride. Or if they could have looked upon each other and seen only their own face looking back. Owen shivered suddenly. He often wondered how much the rebellion had changed him, whether it had turned him despite his wishes into the vicious warrior his Family had always wanted. But now it seemed he could have gone much further down that road than he had. Just as Midnight Blue was the perfect fighting machine Hazel might have become if things had been different.