Deathstalker Rebellion (40 page)

It stretched away before him, a gleaming expanse of shimmering metal and glass, spread out across the floor of a giant cavern. There were towers and suspended walkways, and squat sharp-edged buildings, all shining brightly from within, pushing back the gloom of the cavern. The city had been built by the first Hadenmen, many years ago, and in its inhuman cradle they grew many and powerful. They abandoned it to launch their war on humanity and never returned. Those few who did come back, beaten and dismayed, chose to sleep in the Tomb of the Hadenmen, until such time as they might rise to glory once again. And while they slept, the city maintained itself, until it was recently shattered by the roaring energy cannon of Captain Silence’s task force. Only wreckage and ruin remained, sadly gleaming shards of past majesty.

Now the revived Hadenmen were busy restoring and rebuilding it, and the city slowly stirred itself and came alive again, gleaming and brilliant. One of the Hadenmen had taken Owen and Hazel on a brief tour of the city, and just the sight of the enigmatic misshapen structures up close had been enough to make Owen’s skin crawl. The buildings had not been designed with human comforts or logic in mind, and their purposes remained hidden and mysterious. The quiet was eerie and disturbing, unbroken by any sound of conversation or working machinery. No one building or structure was quite like any other, and everywhere there were strange shapes and unnerving angles, like the menacing cities we glimpse in nightmares in the hours when the night is darkest. Just the tour of the city had given Hazel and
Owen maddening headaches, and they’d made their excuses and left as soon as they politely could. Owen had never ventured in again; but Hazel had.

Owen shuddered suddenly as he looked out over the city, convinced on some deep level that it knew he was there and was watching him with a thousand unseen eyes. Hadenmen were everywhere, performing unguessable tasks, hurrying back and forth on unknown missions, like so many ants in a nest, but silent, always silent. Working together, communing on a level no human could reach, the Hadenmen became a gestalt, a single mind greater than the sum of its thoughts, working toward an end incomprehensible to human thought. Giles Deathstalker, Owen’s revered ancestor, thought the city might be a physical expression of the Hadenman group mind, and when it was complete, they would be, too.

Owen had known only one Hadenman before, and that was Tobias Moon, who’d lived among humans so long he had become all but human himself, much to his disgust. He died trying to free his people from their Tomb and never saw their great awakening. In the end Owen had revived them, and not a day went past without his wondering if he’d done the right thing. The Hadenmen had repaired Moon afterward, but though his body now worked as efficiently as ever, the mind and memories of Tobias Moon had not returned. They were gone, lost, and Owen couldn’t find it in himself to be unhappy. The dead should stay dead.

“If Hazel’s in there much longer, we’ll have to send in a search party,” said the AI Ozymandius, murmuring in Owen’s ear.

“I thought I told you,” said Owen, “I’m not talking to you. I don’t know who or what you are, but you aren’t my Oz. I destroyed him.”

“You came bloody close,” said Oz calmly. “But no cigar. I’m still here. I do wish you’d listen to me. I have only your best interests at heart.”

“You don’t have a heart.”

“Oh, picky picky. Don’t put on airs with me, Owen. You may be a hero now and the great new hope of the rebellion, but I knew you when all you cared about was sleeping in late and which kind of wine to have with your dinner. I have no intention of letting your present success go to your head.”

“If you are Oz,” said Owen reluctantly, “then how is it
I’m the only one who can hear you? If you’re on my comm channel, other people should be able to pick you up, too.”

“Don’t ask me,” said Oz. “I’m just a computer. Something strange happened to me, certainly, but I’m back now. Feel free to applaud.”

“You were an Empire spy,” said Owen. “I have trusted and relied on you since I was a child, and you betrayed me. You put control words in my head and made me try to kill my friends.”

“It was programmed into me; I had no choice. But that’s all gone now, and if I had any control words, I don’t remember them. Maybe that was all just an overlay the Empire installed, and that was what you destroyed with your new mental abilities. Personally, I’m very pleased that you’ve become a rebel. You were never very successful as an aristocrat. Besides, I want you to kick the Empire’s ass. They used me to hurt you. I won’t allow that again.”

Owen said nothing. Part of him wanted to believe it was really Oz, his friend come back again, but he’d felt Oz die in his mind, disappearing into a darkness without end. But if the voice in his head wasn’t Oz, who was it? Some other AI, somehow patching in through Oz’s old connection? Some unknown presence he acquired when he passed through the Madness Maze? Or was he simply going insane, cracking up under the pressure of being a leader of the new rebellion? And if he was going crazy, did he have a duty to tell the others?

“Whoever you are, keep quiet,” Owen said finally. “I have enough to worry about as it is.”

“Your choice,” said Oz easily. “Call me if you change your mind. I’ll just twiddle my thumbs and count electrons.”

Owen waited a moment, but all was quiet inside his head. The only noise came from behind him, where more of the Hadenmen were busily repairing minor damage to the golden ship he’d brought back from the Golgotha mission. Apparently, this mostly involved beating the hell out of the rear fin with large hammers and a lot of enthusiasm. Personally, Owen was damned if he could see anything wrong with the starship, but that was the augmented men for you: always busy working, repairing and improving, in pursuit of perfection. He looked back at the ship in time to see two women with the same face emerging from the open loading bay in the ship’s belly. He nodded politely as they strode to
ward him; the Stevie Blues, esper clones, and representatives of the Golgotha underground. Every time he looked at them, Owen remembered the third Stevie Blue, who’d died during the escape from the Tax Headquarters, despite everything he could do to save her. All his new powers and abilities, and he still couldn’t save one life when it mattered. The Blues were wives, sisters, clones; a relationship stronger and closer than anything Owen could imagine. What must it feel like, when a third of you dies? They came to a halt before him and nodded respectfully.

“Hi,” said the one on the left. “I’m Stevie One, this is Stevie Three. Don’t get us confused or we’ll get cranky.”

“I’m sorry about … Stevie Two,” said Owen. “I would have saved her, if I could.”

“You risked your life trying to save her,” said Stevie One. “An esper and a clone you barely knew. That’s a lot more than most would have done.”

“She will be avenged,” said Owen. “If that’s any comfort.”

“Cold comfort is better than none,” said Stevie One, and Stevie Three nodded. Stevie One glanced back at the busily working Hadenmen. “Horrid things, aren’t they? I’ve known vending machines that were more human than this bunch and talking elevators that had more personality. They give me the creeps.”

“Right,” said Stevie Three. “It doesn’t help that they’re fascinated with us. I’ve never seen anyone so interested in me who wasn’t trying to get into my pants. Apparently, there were no esper clones around during their last lifetime. They keep asking us, very politely, if we’d like to visit their laboratories, but I have a strong suspicion they’d like to take us apart to see what makes us tick. Literally.”

“You’re probably right,” said Owen. “They took away a number of Wampyr from the Empire force that came here, and we never saw any of them again.”

“Oh, hell,” said Stevie One. “Here comes another one.”

A single Hadenman came striding purposefully toward them from the golden ship. He could have been one Owen had met before, or he might not. They all looked the same to him. Tall and perfectly muscled, the Hadenman’s every movement was the epitome of grace, and his eyes glowed like the sun. Half man, half machine, more than both. And, like all his kind, extremely single-minded. The two Stevie
Blues looked at each other. Stevie One produced a coin and tossed it.

“Heads,” said Stevie Three while it was still in midair. Stevie One caught it and slapped it on the back of her hand. Stevie Three looked and scowled. “Damn.”

“Your turn,” said Stevie One, and they both turned to face the Hadenman with the same cold expression.

The augmented man came to a halt before them, poised and perfect, and when he spoke his buzzing voice was calm and very reasonable. “You must submit to examination. It is necessary that we understand the changes that have taken place in humanity during our absence.”

“We don’t do tests,” said Stevie One.

“Right,” said Stevie Three. Blue flames burst out all around her, licking along the lines of her body without harming her. Owen and Stevie One fell back a step, hands raised to protect their faces from the heat that shimmered in the air before them. The Hadenman stood his ground, apparently unaffected by the heat. Stevie Three smiled unpleasantly and turned up the heat another notch. Beads of sweat appeared on the Hadenman’s expressionless face.

“So glad we had this little chat,” said Stevie Three. “Now, get out of here or I’ll weld your legs together.”

The Hadenman considered the matter for a moment. Black scorch marks were beginning to appear on his simple cloth robe. And then he took a step forward, so he could stare right into Stevie Three’s face. The light from his eyes was almost blinding at close range. “We will discuss this again at a future time.”

“Yeah, right,” said Stevie Three, fighting down an impulse to step back a pace herself. “Later.”

The Hadenman turned unhurriedly away and walked off into the gleaming metal and glass city. Owen and the two Stevie Blues watched him go, and no one said anything until they were sure he was out of earshot. Owen turned to Stevie Three and fanned at the hot air between them with his hand.

“Do you think you could turn that down a little now? It’s getting rather close around here.”

“Sorry,” said Stevie Three, and the leaping flames surrounding her snapped off as quickly as they’d arisen. “I can’t believe we’re allies with the augmented men. They’re really not human, after all.”

“There are those who say the same thing about us,” said Stevie One.

“Not around me they don’t,” said Stevie Three. “You can’t compare us to them. For all our differences, we were born, not made.”

“Let’s get to the meeting,” said Stevie One diplomatically. “We’re running late as it is. Will you be joining us, Deathstalker?”

“Soon,” said Owen. “Don’t wait for me.”

The two esper clones nodded in the same way, at the same moment, and then their faces went blank as they contacted the Last Standing through their comm implants. They disappeared between one moment and the next, and there were two quick claps of thunder as air rushed in to fill the space where they’d been. Owen blinked respectfully. Teleportation like that took one hell of a lot of power, which was one reason it wasn’t more commonly used in the Empire. Espers were cheaper and more easily controlled. Besides, it wouldn’t do for something so useful to fall into the hands of the common herd. Rank had to have its privileges, or what was the point? Owen scowled. The Last Standing was using up a lot of power recently, and even its vast resources weren’t bottomless. Still, that wasn’t his problem. His problem was still somewhere in the Hadenman city, taking her own sweet time about getting back. He looked out over the gleaming city, glanced again at the watch face in his wrist, and swore quietly. He couldn’t wait any longer. He’d have to go in and find her.

There was always the chance something had happened to her, but it wasn’t likely. He’d have known. All of those who’d passed through the enigmatic alien structure known as the Madness Maze had emerged changed, in body and mind. They were linked together on a deep and fundamental level, a bond that could not be broken by anything now, least of all distance. He concentrated deep within himself, sinking down into the back brain, the undermind, and there were the others, looking back at him. Jack Random and Ruby Journey and his ancestor Giles were up in the Last Standing. Hazel was in the city, not far away. He narrowed in on her and fixed her location in the city. Not far away at all. Walking distance. All he had to do to find her was walk into the most alien and disturbing city he’d ever seen.
Damn
, he thought dispassionately. He squared his shoulders, checked his weap
ons were where they should be, and set off into the gleaming city.

The strangely shaped buildings and structures loomed up around him, closing him in, all of them lit from within by an unwavering silver glow that was subtly unnerving. It bothered him till he realized that for all the light, there were no shadows anywhere. Just the endless, unforgiving light. It felt cold upon his skin, like the caress of passing ghosts, and the unrelenting glare started a headache right behind his eyes. Or perhaps his head hurt because of the shapes around him. The dimensions were all wrong, distorted and unsettling on some fundamental level, like a triangle whose angles added up to more than one hundred and eighty degrees. Just another proof that the Hadenmen weren’t human. No human could survive for long in this city without going crazy. So what could be so important to Hazel that it drove her into this unnatural city and kept her here when every human instinct in her must be screaming for her to leave?

It got colder the farther he pressed into the city, and the air grew thin, as though he was climbing a mountain into a more rarefied atmosphere. The air smelt of ozone and other chemicals he didn’t recognize. There was a constant deep thudding, a sound so low and so quiet he felt it in his bones as much as heard it, a constant slow pulsing like the beat of a giant heart. There were Hadenmen everywhere he looked, working or operating unfamiliar machinery or walking unhurriedly down the wide streets. Some were just standing quietly, looking at nothing, as though waiting for instructions. None of them spoke; they were linked on a level beyond speech. No one turned to look at Owen as he passed, but he knew he was being watched. As long as he didn’t touch anything or try and interfere with their work, he should be safe enough. Mostly, they were very respectful to the man who’d awakened them from their Tomb. They called him Redeemer and bowed to him, but Owen knew better than to try and take advantage of that. They were probably doing it only to mess with his head. He was human and they weren’t, and if he got in the way or saw something he wasn’t supposed to, Owen had no doubt the augmented men would strike him down as casually as a man might swat a bothersome fly. So he walked casually down the middle of the street, looking straight ahead, his back prickling from the pressure of countless watching eyes, and let his hand rest on
his belt right next to his disrupter. And Hazel had better have a bloody good reason for being here …