Deathstalker Rebellion (42 page)

Hazel d’Ark watched Owen make his way through the crowd and clenched her teeth so her mouth wouldn’t tremble. She crossed her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, her hands squeezed into fists. The need was greater than ever now, and it was beginning to gnaw at her self-control. She was glad Owen was gone. She didn’t know how much longer she’d have been able to hide it from him. She looked around her as casually as she could, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She made herself uncross her arms and concentrated on keeping her hands steady while she poured herself a fresh glass of wine. And then it was very easy to take out the metal flask the Hadenman had given her, unscrew the cap, and pour just a drop of Blood into the wine.

She screwed the cap tight on the flask and put it away again. No one had noticed. And if they had, they wouldn’t have understood what they were seeing. She was safe. For the moment. She looked down at the wine in her glass. It looked innocent enough, the drop of Blood already diffusing
into the alcohol. She swirled the wine in the glass to encourage the process, and then she couldn’t wait any longer. She took a large gulp and then smiled widely as the warmth of it flooded down into her chest. Blood was potent stuff, and even so small a trace was enough to ease the aching need within her. She made herself drink the rest of the wine slowly, and a warm glow of well-being spread through her. Her grin widened. She felt strong and confident and ready to take on the whole damn Empire. More important, she felt human again. Or as human as anyone could be when she were addicted to Wampyr Blood.

The Wampyr, the adjusted men, were supposed to be the Empire’s new shock troops to replace the rebellious Hadenmen. To make a Wampyr you took an ordinary man, killed him by pumping the blood right out of him, and then refilled him with artificial Blood, which revived him. The result was much stronger and faster than an ordinary man, and a hell of a lot harder to kill. They were also difficult to control and more trouble than they were worth. So the project was reluctantly discontinued. But by then some people had discovered another use for the Blood. It gave you a better high, a more orgasmic glow, then any other drug known to man. It made you superhuman, like the Wampyr, for short periods. And after it wore off, you’d do anything to feel that way again. Blood was addictive.

Hazel had first encountered it on the rebel planet Mistworld. She ended up in a relationship she preferred not to remember, with a rogue Wampyr called Abbott, and he introduced her to the dark joys of Blood. She broke off the relationship, but breaking free from the Blood addiction took longer. It almost killed her. She succeeded, eventually, perhaps because she wouldn’t be anyone’s slave; not even her own. But now she was back in its grip again, and it was all Owen’s fault. He’d made her a part of the rebellion and never even noticed as she began to break under the pressure of constant flight and danger, and the high expectations of others. Finally, it all got too much, and she just broke under the weight of it. She’d never been strong. She’d always needed a little something to support her, whether it was booze or drugs or shitty relationships.

She’d thought she’d go crazy on the Wolfling World, with nothing to ease her mind, until she remembered that the Hadenmen had taken control of the handful of Wampyr pris
oners the Empire force left behind. The Hadenmen had been fascinated by their intended replacements and took them deep into their city for examination. They were never seen again.

So Hazel went into the city to see the Hadenmen and bluntly raised the subject of Blood. The augmented men were very understanding. They let her have all the Blood she wanted, a little at a time, and never once mentioned a price. Hazel had no doubt they eventually would, but for the moment she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn or even question where the Blood came from. The Blood made the pressure go away, and that was all that mattered. For a while she thought the boost she obtained from Owen might work as a substitute, but it didn’t last long enough and had its own dangers. Typical of Owen. Always let you down when you really needed him. She knew that wasn’t true even as she thought it, but didn’t care. She needed someone to blame apart from herself. For the moment no one knew about her problem but the Hadenmen, who had promised to keep it to themselves. Eventually, the truth would come out, but that was the future, and these days it took everything Hazel had just to deal with the present.

The meeting finally lurched to a start under the chairmanship of Jack Random. He stood on a small raised stage so everyone could see him and just started talking loudly and clearly. He might not look very impressive, but his voice cracked like a whip, and he still had the gift of words combined with a natural authority. Voices in the crowd died away to an expectant hush as Random thanked them all for coming, introduced himself and some of the more prominent faces, and then threw open the floor for discussion. And not very surprisingly, the first to raise his voice was Elias Gutman.

“Before we begin, my dear friends, might I take this occasion to point out that the rebellion’s raid on the Tax and Tithe Headquarters turned out to be an unmitigated disaster? Because of us, Golgotha’s shields were down when the alien ship arrived, and now everyone blames us for the damage and loss of life it caused! It’s going to be even harder now than it was before to gain popular support for our cause.”

“That’s not fair!” Hazel said quickly. “We had no way of knowing the alien ship was coming. We did everything we were asked to, at great risk to ourselves, I might add, and
achieved everything that was required of us. If you don’t think that’s good enough, feel free to lead the next attack yourself!”

“Right,” said Owen. “Look on the bright side. The Tax and Tithe systems are now a complete mess, and likely to stay that way for years. And we now have billions of new credits in our secret accounts. That money will fund the forthcoming rebellion. Whatever happens next, we made it possible, and don’t you forget it, you ungrateful little toad.”

“Let’s keep the name-calling to a minimum, shall we?” Random said quickly. “Otherwise this meeting will never get started, never mind finished. I think we can all agree that the Golgotha mission was a qualified success, in that we achieved the aims we set ourselves. We’ll just have to plan things a little more carefully in the future, to allow for … unexpected complications. For now, the credits that raid contained are already being used to establish rebel bases and undergrounds on planets throughout the Empire. Those credits will also buy us ships, weapons, and if need be, mercenary armies. I’m sure that must stick in the craw of some of you, but the fact remains that we’re going to need an army of trained soldiers to face off against Lionstone’s forces. The Hadenmen have very kindly promised us their full support in the field, but I think we’d all feel happier not being reliant on their goodwill. Don’t forget it takes time and expertise to turn fighters into trained soldiers. I know, I’ve done it before, many times.

“The aliens … are an unknown factor. We’ll deal with them as and when the situation arises. We have to concentrate on the enemy we know. We’re not exactly without weapons of our own; two esper clones have come to us as representatives of the Golgotha underground. They speak for an army of battle-trained espers and clones, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Investigator Topaz is here to speak for Mistworld. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who she is or remind you of the rebel planet’s strength. They’re an army in themselves. If we can just get them all pointed in the same direction.”

There were quite a few muffled chuckles at that. Mistworld’s population were well-known to spend as much time fighting each other as they did the Empire. But what else would you expect from a planet populated almost exclusively by crooks, rebels, and political subversives? The
chuckles died quickly away as Topaz looked icily about her. Random cleared his throat, and Owen noted approvingly that the packed crowd was hanging on Random’s every word. His old confidence was returning as he warmed to his task, and he was looking and sounding more like the legendary professional rebel he was supposed to be. His old friend Alexander Storm was standing at his side, nodding agreement with everything Random said. There had been much happiness and back-slapping when the two old comrades in arms got together again, and Storm had stuck close to Random ever since, showing everyone that Random had the tacit support of the Golgotha underground. Interestingly, Ruby Journey hadn’t warmed to Storm at all, for all his charm. Of course, it could just be she was jealous of anyone who drew Random’s affection and attention away from her. Owen had to smile at that. He was still having trouble understanding what the hell Ruby and Jack saw in each other, but they seemed happy enough together. Certainly, they were doing better than he was with Hazel. Owen decided firmly that he wasn’t going to think about that for the moment. Hopefully, Storm would find some way to strike a truce with Ruby, or he was likely to end up with a knife in his back. Or even his front. Ruby Journey could be very direct when it came to expressing her feelings.

“This all sounds very fine,” said Elias Gutman, moving forward through the crowd so that he could fix Random with an implacable glare. “But we still haven’t discussed exactly who is going to run things in this new rebellion. We’ve all come here with separate needs and differing agendas, and while we all want the same thing in the end, someone is going to have to decide which path we’ll take to get there. My associates and I have been plotting treason and sedition for decades, and we’re not about to take a backseat to a few jumped-up newcomers, just because they’ve had a few flashy successes. In particular, we are not willing to be led by an old man whose best days are behind him. You’re the past, Random, and we have to look to the future. For all your legend, the fact is you failed to overthrow the Empire time and time again. The new rebellion needs more for its leader than an old man with failing charisma.”

Random looked calmly back at the fat man, unmoved by any of the insults. “Hello, Elias; good to see you again, too. How are the hemorrhoids? You’ve been conspiring in the
shadows almost as long as I’ve been leading armies in the field, but I don’t see that you’ve been any more successful than I. For all your great intrigues and grand plans, Lionstone still sits on the Iron Throne. I remember you as a boy, Elias. Whatever happened to you; you had such promise. I remember your father, too. A good and honorable man. It’s a good thing he’s dead, so he can’t see what his son has become.”

“Of course he’s dead,” said Gutman. “I killed him. That is the traditional way to wealth and power, after all. The old must always make way for the new. So get down off that platform and make way for a better man.”

“Certainly,” said Random. “Know any?”

There were a few chuckles in the crowd, and Gutman’s face flushed slightly. “Clever words won’t save you this time, Random. I represent a number of people who have their own ideas as to how this new rebellion should be run. We’ve invested years of our lives in the struggle for freedom from tyranny, and we’re not prepared to waste any more time listening to an old relic with older ideas.”

He broke off as Ruby Journey stepped forward to glare down at him. “You, behave yourself, or you’re out of here.”

“And just how do you intend to remove me?” said Gutman, smiling smugly. “After all, I’m just a holo image. Your well-known propensity for violence is no use to you here. I have a great deal more to say, and there’s nothing you or that old fool can do to stop me.”

“Want to bet?” said Ruby. She produced a small device from her pocket, pointed it at Gutman, and smiled nastily as his holo image collapsed and disappeared. She scowled out over the crowd, and they stirred uneasily. “Handy little gadget, this. The Hadenmen made it for me. So pay attention, people; keep a civil tongue in your head, if you want to be heard.”

“Think of Ruby as my sergeant at arms,” said Random. “And be very grateful none of you are here in person. Ruby has a very effective way of dealing with people who annoy her, and it takes ages to mop up the blood afterward. Now then, where was I?”

“You were talking about how the new rebellion is to be fought,” said David Deathstalker, stepping forward with his friend Kit SummerIsle at his side. Nobody had been that surprised when they turned up again. “The answer seems obvi
ous to me. According to you, my ancestor the original Deathstalker is back, along with his Darkvoid Device. So all we have to do is demonstrate its power, to prove to Lionstone we have it, and then tell her to step down or we’ll use the Device on Golgotha. That way, there’d be no need for any actual war.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” said Random. “Giles, would you explain, please?”

The original Deathstalker stepped up onto the platform beside Random, and the crowd stirred and murmured as they got their first good look at a man whose legend was even greater than Random’s. He was tall but sparsely built, though his bare arms were thick with muscle. He looked to be in his early fifties, with a solid lined face, and a silver-gray goatee beard. His long gray hair was swept back in a mercenary’s scalplock, and he wore a set of battered, shapeless furs, held in at the waist by a wide leather belt. He wore thick golden armlets and heavy metal rings on his fingers. A long sword hung down his back in a leather scabbard, and on his hip he bore a large gun of unfamiliar design. All in all, he looked like an experienced and very dangerous barbarian warrior from some frontier world where law and civilization were only memories. And not at all like the legendary Warrior Prime of the First Empire. The murmuring in the crowd grew louder and didn’t entirely stop when he began to speak.

“The last time I used the Darkvoid Device, a thousand suns were put out in a moment. All their worlds and populations died, cold and alone in the dark. The Device is not a weapon you can fine tune. If I trigger it again, in the heart of the Empire, most of the Empire will disappear along with Golgotha.”

It got very quiet in the Hall. David frowned. “We don’t have to actually use it, just threaten to.”