Deathstalker (53 page)

“What about Finlay?” said Kit.

“What about him?”

“He escaped, alive and intact. He’s out there somewhere, the last surviving Campbell of note. He’ll make a dangerous loose end. There’s always the chance he might gather the lesser Campbell cousins around him and unite them against you.”

“Even assuming our people don’t catch up with him, he won’t start anything. He knows he’d lose. Dear Finlay will follow the better part of valor and go to ground. He’ll take a new face and a new identity, and that will be the end of Clan Campbell, bad cess to the name. Though it must be said the court will seem a far duller place without his delightful outfits to brighten it up. Fashion will never be the same again.”

“Good,” said Kid Death. He looked around at the devastation and the dead, and smiled. “I’m glad I got the chance to see Crawford brought down. He never liked me.”

“We were glad to have you with us,” said Valentine. “It was, after all, your links with the cyberat underground that enabled us to take the Campbells by surprise. The Wolfes owe you a debt; you will not find us ungrateful.”

“I’d better not,” said Kit, his voice calm and easy and not threatening at all. He turned away and clapped David on the shoulder. “I told you you’d see some real action if you stuck with me. Now, I don’t know about you, but somewhere a long cold drink is calling my name. Let’s go and find it.”

“Damn right,” said the young Deathstalker. “Nothing like honest work to give you a thirst.”

They walked out together, David laughing at some comment of Kit’s. Valentine watched them go, and Daniel moved in beside him.

“Shouldn’t we have said something about the knife in SummerIsle’s back?”

“Oh, I’m sure someone will mention it to him.”

Daniel sniffed. “Since when did those two become such good friends? I didn’t think Kid Death had any friends.”

“It’s a fairly recent phenomenon, from what I hear,” said Valentine. “Presumably they have similar interests. Blood and slaughter and the like.” He shrugged dismissively and moved over to the great wooden table, miraculously unscathed by the recent conflict. He looked down into one of the monitors, and a cyberat face grinned back at him. Valentine nodded courteously. “My thanks for your help in this. You have my word as Wolfe that as soon as the Campbells’ advanced technology is in our hands, it will be made available to you, so that we can both share in its uses.”

“That’s all we ever wanted,” said the cyberat. “We’d have been just as happy to make a deal with the Campbells, but they just turned up their noses and wouldn’t talk to the likes of us. Serves them right. No one does that to the cyberats and gets away with it. Nobody. Talk to you later, Wolfe.”

The monitor screen went blank. Valentine nodded thoughtfully. The cyberat’s threat hadn’t been particularly subtle, but then, cyberats weren’t particularly subtle people away from their machines. Valentine found that rather refreshing after the double meanings and hidden purposes of what passed for conversation at court. He looked up and gestured to Daniel, who moved over to join him.

“I’d really like to be alone now, Daniel. Just for a while. This has all been very sudden and unexpected, and I need some time to put my thoughts in order. Will you take the news back to Constance and Stephanie after all? I think they might take it better from you.”

“If that’s what you want. Will you be long?”

“I shouldn’t think so. Take the troops with you. They can start work later.”

Daniel nodded, and looked back at their father’s body. The troops had laid it out respectfully to one side, away from the carnage. “I often wished he was dead,” Daniel said quietly, “but I never really … I never really thought he would die. That he’d always be there, looking out for us and messing with our lives. He was always so alone. … I don’t know what I’m going to say to Constance.”

“You’ll think of something,” said Valentine. “You’re a Wolfe.”

Daniel realized after a pause that Valentine had said all he was going to say. He nodded quickly, gathered up the troops with his eyes and left the room without looking back. The troops followed him out, and Valentine waited patiently till
they were all gone. He strolled over to the chair at the head of the table and sat down. He stretched out his legs and smiled slowly. For the moment, Daniel was too shocked to do anything but go along with him. That wouldn’t last long, once he’d explained the situation to Stephanie. She’d put some backbone into him. And then they’d start jostling for position to see what they could get away with under the new Wolfe. Valentine’s scarlet smile widened. They were in for a few surprises.

Just like dear dead Dad, who never once imagined that his useless and despised son might be the instrument of his death. Valentine ran the memory through again, savoring it. The knife and the blood and the look on Jacob’s face as he crumpled to the ground. He’d only caught a glimpse of it, but a glimpse had been enough. It had all been so easy, in the end. A quick thrust of a dagger, noticed by no one, and he was the Wolfe, head of the Family. He should have done it years ago.

He’d made a good start, but there was still much to be done. He commanded the Clan by the right of inheritance, but he still had to consolidate his power base. There were any number of lesser cousins who’d be happy to support a claim by Daniel or Stephanie, if they thought they could profit by it. But he had a powerful ally in the cyberats, only too ready to support him in return for access to the Campbell technology. Carefully rationed, that should keep them on a string for some time to come. The remnants of the Campbells would be too scattered to present any real threat, and a quiet policy of assassination should help the situation along nicely. The contracts for the new stardrive would fall into his hands now that the main competition had been eliminated. And he had taken the first steps on a road that might yet lead to the Iron Throne itself. Particularly once he had the underground united behind him: an army of esper clones at his beck and call because he controlled the drug that made them espers. And not forgetting the AIs on Shub, who would no doubt be just as happy to deal with him as they had with the Campbells. He’d always known a good intelligence network would pay off.

Valentine smiled. Life was good.

The
Sunstrider
came howling out of hyperspace and plunged straight into the atmosphere of the planet Shandrakor. Smoke and fire billowed around the stricken craft as it plunged through the thickening air. The stem was a ragged wound, and fragments of outer hull tumbled away as the ship bucked and heaved in the turbulent atmosphere. The
Sunstrider
had taken a hell of a beating from the two Imperial starcruisers that ambushed it off Mistworld, and now it fell like a stone toward the unknown surface below. What was left of the outer hull blazed an angry crimson from the heat of reentry, and the inner skin was warped and twisted. The yacht had never been intended to make planetfall without its force screens operating. It had also never been intended to take the kind of punishment Imperial starcruisers could hand out, and it was something of a miracle that the ship had held together so long. The
Sunstrider
fell, its engines cutting in and out as one system after another failed.

Inside the crippled ship, Owen Deathstalker hung on to a handy stanchion for dear life, thrown this way and that by the shuddering descent. The lounge extractors were struggling to clear thick choking smoke out of the air, and the emergency lighting flashed on and off in sudden surges. Hazel d’Ark and Ruby Journey had wedged themselves between the drinks cabinet and the inner wall and were fighting to stay there. At least it offered some protection from the unsecured furniture and fittings flying about the lounge like bulky shrapnel. Jack Random had found a quiet area and was riding the sudden dips and rises with practiced
ease, suggesting the professional rebel had traveled on his share of crashing ships in his time.
Probably has
, thought Owen as he glanced about him through the drifting smoke for the Hadenmen. Tobias Moon had wedged a chair into one corner of the lounge and was sitting there at his ease. He looked entirely calm and relaxed, and Owen felt very much like hitting him on general principles. It was all he could do to remain vaguely upright and keep his last meal down where it belonged.

“Oz, talk to me. What’s happening?”

“We’re crashing, Owen. You must have noticed.”

The crackling of a nearby fire suddenly sounded a lot closer than it had been, and the air grew uncomfortably warm. Something large and jagged thrust suddenly down through the ceiling, plunging into the lounge floor like a massive metal javelin. The floor seemed to drop out from under Owen’s feet for a second, and he hung on to the stanchion with both hands.

“I meant, what are you doing about it? Give me a status report!”

“All right, but you’re not going to like it. At the moment, the vast majority of systems are doing everything they can just to hold the ship together. We’ve taken extensive damage inside and out, and it is continuing. Multiple breaches of the outer and inner hulls, and the stem is gone. There are fires in three compartments, but I’m on top of it. We’re losing air and pressure badly, but at the rate we’re falling we’ll crash into something hard and unyielding long before air loss becomes a problem.”

Owen winced. “What are our chances of walking away from a landing?”

“Not good. The force shields are down, and we don’t have the power to raise them again. The
Sunstrider
was never intended to take punishment like this. It’s a pleasure yacht, not a gunship. Most of the automatics are down, and the backup systems are sitting in a corner crying their eyes out. I’m having to run everything directly and juggle power back and forth between the systems according to what’s working. There is some good news. The basic structure of the ship is still pretty much intact, which is just as well, as I have absolutely no information on how to repair it.”

“Have we got any life pods, or anti-grav chutes?” yelled Hazel. “Could we bail out if we had to?”

“You do have to, and no you can’t.” The AI sounded positively disgusted. “With all the power and safety systems built into this ship, no one ever thought emergency evacuation systems would be needed. We’ve got a waterbed in the main stateroom. You could chuck that out and hope you landed on it.”

Jack Random looked across at Owen. “Interesting sense of humor your AI has.”

“Yeah,” said Owen. “And if I ever find out who programmed it into him, I’ll have his balls in a vise.”

The ship convulsed, and everyone was thrown from one side of the lounge to the other. The drinks cabinet overturned, and there was broken glass everywhere. There was a high-pitched screech from somewhere aft, and then the ship righted itself again. The extractors had sucked most of the smoke out of the air, but the fire next door sounded closer than ever. The wall Owen was leaning against was growing uncomfortably hot.

“All right,” he said loudly. “What the hell just happened?”

“We just lost the stern assembly,” said Ozymandius. “I’m jettisoning everything that isn’t absolutely essential. It won’t make a lot of difference in the long run, but I’ve run out of anything else to do.”

“Wait just a minute,” said Owen. “What do you mean, jettisoning? As in, dropping extremely expensive items overboard? Do you know how much I paid for this yacht?”

“Yes, and they saw you coming. If we survive this, you could always ask for your money back. Or claim it on the insurance.”

“It isn’t bloody insured!”

Jack Random looked at the Hadenman. “Didn’t you just know he was going to say that?”

“Owen,” said Hazel, “shut the hell up and let the AI get on with it. He’s in the best position to know what’s necessary.”

“All right,” said Owen, sulkily. “Assuming by some miracle we survive the landing, what’s waiting for us down there? Will the planet support human life?”

“Air and gravity are within acceptable limits,” said the AI briskly. “Nothing you can’t cope with. It’s pretty damn hot down there, though.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Random. “It’s not as if we had
any choice in the matter. Description of land masses, please.”

“Did you hear that?” said Ozymandius. “He said please! I’m glad there’s someone on this ship with a few manners. Land masses: just the one, stretching from pole to pole, with a handful of inland seas. Unusual. The land mass is covered with varying degrees of jungle. Life signs all over the place, big and small, but no indications of intelligent life. No starport, no cities, no gatherings of artificial structures. In fact, no structures at all that I can see. However, I do have a location for one structure in my memory files, courtesy of your father, Owen. Exact coordinates for the Last Standing of the original Deathstalker. However, I have to say I see nothing at all where it’s supposed to be. I can only assume it’s shielded in some way.”

“The Last Standing,” said Owen softly. “This is where he came and made his stand against the Shadow Men. It’s been a legend in my Family for generations.”