Deathstalker Honor (45 page)

Diana had been forced to abandon that particular line of inquiry for the moment, since all the Maze survivors had left Golgotha. But she had a strong feeling the Mater Mundi wasn’t directly linked to the Madness Maze, after all. Whatever else it was, Our Mother of All Souls was very definitely an esper phenomenon, and the Maze people . . . weren’t. And whatever they were becoming, Diana had a suspicion the end result wouldn’t necessarily be anything even remotely human.

She pushed the thought aside. Sufficient unto the day the evils thereof. Or something like that.

Just recently she’d been concentrating on the file histories of earlier manifests of the Mater Mundi. Their names were well known, but the hard facts concerning their . . . possession . . . had been well hidden. There were remarkably few of them, only eight in total in over two hundred years. As people they had nothing in common save one disturbing fact—none of them had survived the Mater Mundi’s touch. They’d all gone crazy, and after carrying out the uber-esper’s wishes, they’d burned up from within, consumed by the power that raged within them. There hadn’t even been enough left of them to bury. It was as though their merely human minds simply couldn’t handle the vast energies the Mater Mundi had let loose in them.

Diana went cold the first time she read that. She could have died. Everybody else had. The Mater Mundi must have had every reason to expect her to run mad and die, but had used her anyway. She had no way of knowing that Diana Vertue, then almost wholly Jenny Psycho, would be the first avatar to survive her amplifying touch. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Diana was already more than a little crazy when the Mater Mundi found and used her in Wormboy Hell. Which suggested something very disturbing about the state or nature of the Mater Mundi herself.

Could that be the answer? That the uber-esper’s actions made no obvious sense because she or it was quite mad? No, its actions during the rebellion had been straightforward enough. Just because Diana couldn’t see a pattern yet, it didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

The truth about the previous manifests had been carefully hushed up, right from the beginning. The underground might not understand what the Mater Mundi was, but they knew that they needed her. Only the hidden files told how her previous chosen ones had all gone out in spectacular form, taking hundreds of innocent bystanders with them.

Apparently the underground had never made any attempt to investigate the nature of this . . . force that was taking over and destroying its own people. In any war, knowing the true nature of your enemy is useful, but knowing the true nature of your allies is vital. And yet there was nothing in the files, nothing at all, to suggest that the underground had asked any of even the most obvious questions. It was as though the idea simply hadn’t occurred to them. Which raised the unnerving question of just how far the Mater Mundi’s influence extended.

Jenny Psycho had survived the Mater Mundi’s touch. So had Investigator Topaz. Two women both generally considered to be crazy. Perhaps being mentally walking wounded had left their minds adaptable enough to cope with being changed into something more, or at least other, than human. Certainly Diana’s powers had been . . . transformed by the Mater Mundi’s touch. She doubted there was a telepath on Golgotha who could match her if she put her mind to it. And she had other abilities too—psychokinesis and precognition, which was supposed to be impossible. The genetic engineers had proven through exhaustive and often tragic testing that the human brain could cope with only one power at a time. Anything else burned out the mind. Sometimes literally. That was why espers bred true, and children developed only the dominant trait.

And where was all her power coming from? Could the uber-esper have touched and awakened some unknown source of power inside Diana Vertue? Maybe something buried so deeply within the human psyche that only an inhuman touch could spark it into life. And if that was true, Diana thought just a little giddily, did that mean all espers could become like her, if they were only kicked awake hard enough? Or if they were crazy enough? Could she, Diana, or Jenny Psycho, touch others and make them like herself? Were all espers potentially superhuman, but were being deliberately limited by outside forces? Like the Mater Mundi?

Diana stopped the train of thought with an effort, and took a deep calming swallow of lukewarm tea from the cup on the table before her. After all the files she’d dug up and examined, she wasn’t much better off than when she’d started. In fact, she had far more questions than answers. Damned disturbing questions too. Hardly surprising. Even after almost three centuries of investigation into the subject, the best Empire scientists still had no real understanding of what made espers work. They had been pressed into service almost as soon as they’d been created because they were so massively useful. And afterward . . . questions had been discouraged. Espers worked and espers were property, and that was all anyone needed to know.

The Mater Mundi, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have been created by anyone. She or it had just appeared spontaneously, out of nowhere. One minute the universe made sense, and the next the Mater Mundi was right there in the middle of things. She didn’t seem tied to any one planet. Earlier manifests had taken place on worlds scattered across the Empire. Diana hadn’t been able to discover any link or common denominator between them. Wherever there were espers, there were opportunities for the Mater Mundi.

But her actions had changed in recent times. Whereas originally she had manifested only through single espers, now she bound them together into gestalts capable of far more than any individual. And none of them suffered any ill effects afterward. At least nothing obvious. So far. It was as though the Mater Mundi grew stronger, and more capable, the more it did. Learning by doing. Diana leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips thoughtfully. Maybe she could discover something useful by comparing the end results of the Mater Mundi’s actions. Work out what it was trying to achieve. Or work toward . . . Diana scowled. And maybe she could give herself an even bigger headache than she already had.

She’d been working in a vacuum too long. She needed to talk to someone. She turned away from her computer terminal and activated the viewscreen. There was usually a long waiting list for private interplanetary calls these days, but Diana had priority as a war hero and major pain in the ass, and she used her privilege mercilessly. Contact with Mistworld took less than a minute to arrange, and soon Investigator Topaz was staring out of the viewscreen at Diana, her face as always utterly cold and controlled.

“This had better be important, Vertue. I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy, Investigator. I need to talk to you, about the Mater Mundi.”

“You’re not the first. Lots of people are interested in her, and what she did to me.”

“What did she do to you?” said Diana, leaning forward.

Topaz frowned. “She supercharged me. I can do things now. Powerful things. I’m not just a Siren anymore. Not just a projective telepath. I’m more than I was. A lot of people are scared of me now. Of course, on Mistworld that’s usually an advantage. But this is . . . different. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was religious awe. A couple of days back, people started bringing their sick children to me, asking me to cure them by a laying on of hands.”

“And?” said Diana, intrigued.

Topaz sniffed, almost embarrassed. “ Well . . . I was curious. So I ran a few objective tests. Did the whole bit. No one picked up their bed and walked. Hasn’t stopped them coming, though. I have security people screen my callers these days. I can guard against my enemies, but God save me from wannabe disciples. One group actually built a church to me.”

“What happened?”

“I burned it down. They got the message. Why are you asking me these questions, Vertue?”

“I wanted to see if you were going through the same changes as me. The Mater Mundi brought together a lot of people on Mistworld. Have any of them demonstrated any notable changes?”

“Vertue, everyone here has been busy rebuilding Mistport. We work sixteen-hour days, and none of us are getting enough sleep. We’ve all been acting pretty cranky. But I can’t say I’ve noticed anything . . . unusual. I have to go. Don’t bother me again without a damned good reason.”

The viewscreen went blank as Investigator Topaz broke the connection from her end. Diana turned back to her computer terminal, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Topaz appeared to have survived her time as a manifest pretty much unscathed. Probably because she’d never been a picture of mental health. Was that the connection? Did it mean something? Did it mean anything apart from the fact that she’d been sitting in a room on her own for far too long, and she was ready to grab at anything that even looked as though it might make sense? Was it in fact time that she gave up, went home, had several large meals, and then slept for a week?

Diana sighed and pushed the tempting thought aside. There was an answer here somewhere. There had to be. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that the Mater Mundi wasn’t what most people thought it was. It had its own direction and agenda, and didn’t hesitate to use whatever innocent tools it felt necessary to get the job done. Irrespective of the harm it did to its victims along the way. The Mater Mundi treated people exactly the way the Iron Bitch had.

Diana sat in her chair in her little room, and felt very small and very alone. This was too big for just one person, even her. But there was no one else she could take her questions and fears to. She couldn’t go to the leaders of the esper underground. The Mater Mundi had founded the underground. She might still be involved in running things, on some deep, very secret level. Which meant Diana couldn’t trust anyone. The Mater Mundi could manifest through anyone, strike at her through any friend or enemy or stranger. If it knew what she was doing . . .

Diana sat up sharply. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She looked quickly around her, suddenly convinced that someone had just come into the room, but the door was shut and she was alone. She shuddered suddenly. The room was icy cold. Her breath was steaming on the air before her. Hoarfrost was forming on the computer equipment. There was a feeling of pressure on the air, as though something impossibly large was coming, forcing its way through dimensional barriers and rattling the windows of reality. It was close now, looking for a way in. Diana surged to her feet, kicking the chair away to give herself room to move in. She pulled her power around her like a cloak. It didn’t stop her teeth from chattering or her hands shaking. She didn’t bother trying to call for help. She knew no one would be allowed to hear her. She knew what was coming.

Every piece of computer equipment in the room rose up and took new shape. Metal and plastic humped and cracked, splitting and reforming around the new thing that was creating itself through the transforming tech. It made a sort of human shape, towering over Diana, with a wide, blocky body and two arms of different length, ending in sharp metal claws. The head on top of the body had viewscreen glass for eyes and a jagged metal tear for a smile. Static sparked around the head like a splintered halo.

The Mater Mundi had found a new way to manifest.

“Hi,” said Diana, fighting to control her chattering teeth. “Good of you to drop by.”

You’ve been asking questions,
said a voice in her mind like grating teeth, like hissing pipes, like children crying.
You must stop.

“Then stop me,” said Diana. “If you can.”

“Bullshit. If you could have done anything, you’d have done it by now. But you can’t. You made me so much more than I was, and you can’t take it back. The best you could manage was this sending, this metal golem to intimidate me. I’ve seen scarier mobiles in children’s nurseries.”

And Diana was back in Wormboy Hell, naked, in the dark, crawling in her own piss and shit and vomit, while Wormboy played awful, sadistic mind games, torturing her again and again until she destroyed her own voice through constant screaming.

No,
said Diana.
Get out of my mind, you bitch.

And she was back in the records room again, shivering and shaking, the taste of imminent vomit in her mouth. She glared at the metal construct, her mouth stretched in something that was as much a snarl as a smile. Her rage warmed her, driving out the cold. And when she spoke, she was Jenny Psycho again.

“That shit won’t work with me. That was the past. I’m stronger now, stronger than I ever dreamed of. Maybe stronger than you ever dreamed of. You can’t stop me. No one can stop me. I’m going to find out who and what and where you are, and then I’ll make you pay for all the poor bastards whose lives you destroyed.”

“For your own reasons. Now get the hell out of here. Before I decide to test just how strong you made me.”

The presence was suddenly gone, and the cold went with it. The metal golem was empty, just an abandoned shell. Diana all but collapsed back into her chair. One of them had been bluffing, but she wasn’t sure which. Apparently the Mater Mundi hadn’t been sure either. Still, Diana thought, she must be getting closer to the truth if the Mater Mundi was prepared to go to such lengths to try to warn her off. With anyone else it would probably have worked. Diana looked at the metal and plastic shape still towering over her and shivered again. Now that she had time to think about it, it really had been pretty scary. She couldn’t help wondering if that was how other people felt in the presence of Jenny Psycho.

“Damn,” she said finally, in a perfectly steady voice. “How the hell am I going to explain this mess to the head of the House?”