Deathstalker Destiny (25 page)

“We have much to keep us busy. We lead the field in removing the old Imperial conditioning from espers and clones; the mental limits that were supposed to keep them from rebelling. The stronger minds usually broke free on their own, but there are still many who need help. And afterwards, they have to be taught to think for themselves. Too many would walk right back into the cell we freed them from, simply because they’ve never known anything else. And there’s never any shortage of people ready to take advantage of them all over again. We also care for those whose souls are troubled by things they had to do during the war. The esper Guild Houses do what they can, but they don’t have our experience with violence. It was never a clean war, on either side, and we’re still cleaning up the mess.”

And then Crow Jane and Diana Vertue and the other elves came to a sudden halt, as a figure appeared out of the shadows to block their way.

“Speaking of which,” said Crow Jane sourly, “allow me to present our most recent guest. I’m sure you two know each other.”

“Oh yes,” said Jack Random. “We know each other. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like a private word with Diana.”

“Yes,” said Diana, meeting his gaze with level eyes. “There are things we should discuss.”

Crow Jane nodded, and led the other Elves a discreet distance away, to give the two legendary figures a little privacy. Diana studied Jack Random. He seemed calm and collected and not at all crazy.

“I heard about what you did,” she said finally. “It was all over the city.”

“I’m not crazy,” said Random, smiling. “I’ve just gone back to doing what I do best. Killing the bad guys.”

“And you decide who the bad guys are.”

“Who better? Who has more experience fighting the good fight than me? The old professional rebel is back, and God help the guilty.”

“Even if they used to be friends and allies of yours?”

“Perhaps especially then.” Random studied her thoughtfully. “You can’t stay here, you know. Any more than I can. I don’t claim to understand what the Mater Mundi is, but I recognize its might and its determination. If you stay, it’ll come here after you. The other elves will try to defend you, and the Mater Mundi will destroy them all just to get at you. New Hope will be a city of the dead, again. If you stay.”

“Where else can I go?” said Diana, almost plaintively.

“Offworld. Pick a planet with a minimal esper presence, and go to ground. Until either the Mater Mundi forgets about you, or you figure out a way to defeat it. I shall be doing ... much the same. No one fights my fights for me.”

“The Mater Mundi will never forget me,” said Diana. “Not now that I know ... what I know. We are enemies to the death now, our teeth forever locked in each other’s throat. You’re right. I can’t stay here. I can’t be responsible for the destruction of something so beautiful.”

She looked out over the fairy-tale city before her, and wasn’t sure whether she meant New Hope or the new gestalt the elves had built there. It didn’t matter. Both were too precious to be risked by her contaminating presence. Tears stung Diana’s eyes. She could have found a home here. She could feel it. But the newborn elven gestalt would be no match for the centuries-old Mater Mundi.

It was like coming at last to the shores of Heaven, only to find the gates slammed shut in her face.

“Give me time to catch my breath, and I’ll think of somewhere to go,” she said finally. “How about you, Random?”

“Already on my way. You’ll pardon me if I don’t tell you where I’m going. These days, I don’t trust anyone but me. And I watch me pretty damn carefully. I must be off. I have much to do, and justice won’t wait. Ah me; so little time, so many to kill.”

He smiled dazzlingly, with all his old charm and arrogance, and turned and walked away. Diana watched him go, and didn’t know what to say or think. Was he crazy now, or had the whole Empire gone insane? There’d been a lot of people who thought Jenny Psycho was crazy. Of course, they were pretty much right. Diana looked across at Crow Jane, patiently waiting with the other Elves, and wondered how she was going to break the news that she would be leaving.

And then an idea suddenly came to her. She couldn’t risk mental contact with any of her few esper friends; they were all potentially pawns of the Mater Mundi. But there were two people, neither of them in any way espers, with whom she had once made mental contact. When she’d still been Jenny Psycho, a prisoner in Silo Nine, the Imperial detention and torture center also known as Wormboy Hell, the Mater Mundi had created a mental link between Jenny and Finlay Campbell and Evangeline Shreck. It had only ever been intended as a one-off thing, and none of them had tried using the link since, but theoretically there was no reason why Diana shouldn’t be able to reestablish the link. She was, after all, much more powerful and focused now. She closed her eyes and broadcast her thoughts as loudly as she could, on an unfamiliar level.

Bloody hell,
said Finlay Campbell.
I’ve started hearing voices. I didn’t think I was that far gone. You’re not going to tell me you’re the Devil, are you, and I have to go running through the streets with my underpants on my head?

Shut up, dear, and let her talk,
said Evangeline Shreck.
So this is telepathy. How fascinating. Not quite what I’d imagined, but... Correct me if I’m wrong, Diana, but I’d always understood telepathy was only possible between people carrying the esper genes.

My old apartment under the Arenas,
said Finlay immediately.
Very secure, and no one knows the access codes but me.

And the constant raging emotions and sudden deaths should make a powerful cloak for you to hide behind,
said Evangeline.

Who’s after you?
said Finlay.
Anything we can do to help?

I didn‘t,
said Diana.
This idea came firmly under the heading of pure desperation. But I always knew you were too mean to die that easily.

Finlay laughed, and told her what she needed to know. Diana broke contact, then steeled herself, and went to tell Crow Jane that she wouldn’t be staying after all.

 

There was something very wrong with Grace Shreck’s town house. The old stone building looked even more uncared for than usual, if that was possible, and the surrounding gardens had been allowed to run riot. No lights showed at any of the closed windows, save for one high up and to the side. Both house and garden were utterly silent, as though listening or waiting ... for something. Toby Shreck and his cameraman Flynn huddled together before the front gates, peering dubiously through the black iron bars. Flynn’s camera hovered by his shoulder, as though afraid to go off on its own. Toby glared at the dark house.

“I told you, Flynn. Something’s wrong here. Very wrong. Grace is still in residence, along with all of her servants, but the only light showing is at Clarissa’s bedroom window. So why are they all sitting around in the dark?”

“Good question, Boss. This is definitely spooky. Reminds me of one of those old houses they always put on the covers of Clarence’s favorite gothic romances. You know; the ones where there’s a batty old ex-wife living secretly in the attic, sharpening a hatchet when she thinks no one’s listening.”

“Will you shut up, Flynn? This is disturbing enough as it is. And look at the garden. Grace would never have allowed it to get into such a mess. She’s always been red hot on keeping up appearances.”

“Could be money problems,” said Flynn.

“No; she’d have talked to me by now if that was the case,” said Toby. “And I can think of at least a dozen antiques in her front room that are each worth more than the house and grounds put together. No ... I don’t like this at all.”

“Then why don’t we do the sensible thing for once, and go home? And not come back till we’ve arranged for some heavy duty backup, body armor, and maybe an exorcist. Just in case.”

“Clarissa’s in there,” said Toby grimly. “Her messages have been growing increasingly short and vague over the past few weeks. I want her out of there. I also want a few urgent words with Grace about something I turned up while checking the Family expense sheets.”

“Hold on,” said Flynn. “Since when have you started investigating your own Family? And keeping it a secret from me?”

Toby looked at him. “Since I found myself wading through matters so murky that just discussing them might be enough to get us both killed. But since we’re here ... and I have no intention of going back without a whole bunch of answers ... Grace took over the day-to-day running of Clan Shreck, after Gregor was murdered by Finlay Campbell. Suited me just fine, at the time. The last thing I needed was more work and more responsibilities. Until the Family bank alerted me, on the quiet, that Grace had been authorizing some very ... unorthodox expenditures. Many of them borderline illegal, not to mention immoral. Very unlike dear old-fashioned aunt Grace.

“So I checked it out. Grace had all sorts of elaborate security measures in place, but you can’t keep a Shreck out of Shreck computers. It turned out that among many dubious and downright disreputable rackets, Grace had been quietly running a very discreet shipping service, specializing in transporting the kind of goods owners prefer not to describe too specifically. If at all. To my surprise, not to mention outright shock, when I compared the schedules with my own current area of interest, it turned out that one of these ships almost certainly brought the carrier of the nano plague to Golgotha.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” said Flynn. “Are you saying the nano plague’s being spread by a single carrier?”

“Right. A Typhoid Mary, infected with the plague but not affected by it. And he came here on a Shreck ship. Grace’s ship.”

“We’re talking treason here,” said Flynn carefully. “Can you prove any of this?”

“Some of it. Enough to make it vital I talk with Grace before I go public. Another rogue Shreck like Gregor, and the Clan will be disgraced beyond saving. I have to give Grace a chance to explain herself. It’s just possible she’s being used as a front by someone else. Certainly none of this sounds anything like the aunt Grace I’ve always known.”

“Have you tried calling her?”

“She won’t take my calls. And now she’s blocked my line to Clarissa. So we’re going in.”

“I love this we bit.” Flynn studied the gates dubiously. “They appear to be locked.”

Toby snorted. “I was cracking the locks on these gates back when I was fifteen, and heading out for a night on the town.”

He produced a set of efficient and highly illegal lock-picks, and had the gates open in a matter of seconds. Flynn discreetly pointed his camera in another direction. The gate hinges squealed noisily as Toby pushed them open, and the sound seemed very loud in the quiet. Toby and Flynn froze in place for a moment, but there were no alarms, no sudden lights or raised voices, and after a moment they pressed on. The garden had overgrown the main path, and they had to push their way past overhanging branches and outcropping rose bushes. It was very dark, once they moved out of the range of the streetlights. Toby followed his old memories, from late night and early morning returns after teenage revels, and Flynn stuck close to Toby. Every sound they made seemed to carry and echo on the still air. They came at last to the front door, and Toby came to a halt so suddenly Flynn almost ran into the back of him. There was a small light on over the door, which stood wide open.

“Damn,” said Toby tonelessly. “They know we’re here.”

“They?” said Flynn. “Who’s this
they?
I thought you said Grace was behind all this.”

“There’s always a
they.
Grace couldn’t have done this alone. She wouldn’t have known how. Follow me in, Flynn. Stay close, and keep that camera going, whatever happens. And if I say run, don’t hang about or you’ll be following me all the way out. Got it?”

“Got it, Boss.”

Toby strode forward into the gloom of the hallway beyond the front door, and Flynn was right there with him, almost treading on his heels. Toby found the light switches, and turned them all on. The hall blazed into being around them, and they both waited a minute for their eyes to adjust to the new light. The first thing Toby noticed was that there was dust everywhere. He frowned. Grace had always been so house proud. He led the way through the house, finding only empty rooms and more dust. The whole place might have been utterly deserted. He came at last to the heavy doors leading to Grace’s main reception room, and he hesitated only a moment before pushing them open and storming in. The room was brightly lit, and there was Grace Shreck, sitting stiffly in her chair beside the fire, as always. And standing by her side was the Speaker of the House, Elias Gutman. They both nodded courteously to Toby and Flynn.

“Well,” said Toby. “That explains a lot.”

“Come in, dear,” said Grace calmly. “Make yourself at home. Would you care for some tea?”

“No tea,” said Toby. “I’m here for answers. And I’m not leaving till I get some.”

“You won’t like them,” said Grace, her voice and face curiously calm, almost uninvolved.

“Let’s start with the human slime beside you,” said Toby. He glared at Gutman. “How long have you been using my Family as a front?”