Deathstalker Destiny (54 page)

“They were hiding,” said the Wolfing. “They remembered the Last Standing. It frightened them.”

He broke off contact, and the screen went blank. Owen looked at Hazel. “The Last Standing frightened the
Recreated?”

“Not the castle,” said Hazel. “It was who the Standing belonged to. Giles Deathstalker. It always comes back to him, and the schemes and conspiracies he set in motion, all those centuries ago.”

“Then I suppose it’s up to me to finally put an end to them,” said Owen. “The last of his Family. The last Deathstalker.”

And then they both suddenly and silently vanished away, gone from the bridge of the
Sunstrider III
between one moment and the next, and all around the vast and awful shapes of the Recreated stirred slowly, as though troubled by some half-felt premonition.

 

Not long after, another ship came to the Wolfing World; that famous and much-traveled starcruiser, the Dauntless. On the bridge, Captain John Silence sat stiffly in his command chair, eyes fixed on the main viewscreen before him. The
Dauntless
had been threading its way through the huge alien forms of the Recreated for some time now, guns and shields at the ready, but so far the ship had gone entirely unchallenged. Which was just as well, in Silence’s opinion. He wouldn’t have backed his entire weapons systems against even one of the huge alien vessels. The
Dauntless
moved slowly forward, sliding silently past and between the Recreated, and Silence couldn’t help feeling just a little annoyed that none of the Recreated even deigned to notice them.

The pardoned traitor called Carrion stood calmly beside the command chair, leaning idly on his power lance. His dark, shadowed eyes studied the alien shapes on the screen with interest, apparently entirely unmoved. The rest of the bridge crew were so stiff and strained you could have struck matches off them, and the general atmosphere on the bridge was tense almost beyond bearing, but no one even looked like cracking. They were a good crew, and Silence was very proud of them.

“What the hell are all those Recreated doing here?” he said quietly to Carrion. “Why aren’t they attacking Golgotha, with the rest of their kind?”

“Clearly, something on the planet below holds their attention,” said Carrion, not looking away from the screen. “Something they consider more important than Humanity’s imminent destruction. Which suggests the rumors are true. The Madness Maze has returned. And with it, perhaps, the Darkvoid Device.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Silence. “It’s the only weapon left that might help us against the Recreated, now that Diana’s failed to convert them. The Device could be Humanity’s last hope.”

“Really?” said Carrion. “I always thought that was the Deathstalker.”

“If he’s even here,” said Silence. “And I don’t know I entirely trust him in this. The last time a Deathstalker and the Device got together, they wiped out billions of innocent lives. And he has a history with the Madness Maze I can’t even begin to understand. I only went partway through, and it scared the shit out of me. It killed my men as I watched, and I couldn’t do a damned thing to save them. No; we’ll deal with the Deathstalker if we have to, if he’s alive and here, but we concentrate on the Device. At least we’ve got plenty of targets here to test it on.”

“Assuming we can use it without destroying everything else in the process,” said Carrion. “Including us. Though that would be one fine last joke.”

“You always did have a weird sense of humor, Sean,” said Silence. “Navigator; select a low orbit, and move us into position. Preferably well away from any of those ... things, out there.”

“Aye, sir.” The navigation officer’s voice was steady, and his hands moved surely over the control panels. Only the paleness of his face betrayed his inner tension. The
Dauntless
eased into orbit around the Wolfing

World, and still none of the Recreated showed any reaction. Silence, and the rest of his crew, began to breathe a little more easily. And then Hemdall, the ship’s AI, raised its voice politely, and everyone jumped just a little.

“You asked to be advised of any other human ship in the vicinity, Captain. Sensors are picking up what could be a small craft, also in low orbit.”

“Put it on the screen,” said Silence. He studied the ship as its image replaced the Recreated, and nodded thoughtfully. “Looks like it was bolted together from half a dozen different vessels, but the general shape’s familiar. That’s a
Sunstrider.
The Deathstalker got here before us. Damn. Hemdall; scan the ship for life readings.”

“None detected, Captain. The ship appears to be entirely deserted.”

Silence frowned, and then rose sharply to his feet. “That means he’s already gone down, into the interior of the planet. Probably already making plans with the Wolfing.”

Carrion moved forward to stand beside him. “Does it matter that he got here first? He is Humanity’s hero. What could he have to say to the Wolfing that might worry us?”

“Who knows?” said Silence. “He’s a Deathstalker. I never believed he was really dead. Owen’s always had his own agenda.”

“Unlike us,” suggested Carrion.

Silence glared at him. “We are following Parliament’s orders. After Jack Random went crazy, I don’t trust any of the Maze people anymore.”

“You went into the Maze,” said Carrion, his voice entirely unjudgmental. Silence shrugged uneasily.

“I never went all the way through. Never ... changed, the way they did. I’m still human. And Humanity needs the Darkvoid Device. If we can work with the Deathstalker, so well and good. If not ...”

“Yes?”

“Damned if I know. There haven’t been many who could make Owen Deathstalker do a single damned thing he didn’t want to. All I can realistically do is appeal to his sense of honor and duty. In his own way, Owen has always been an honorable man. But he’s also a wild card, in a game where the wrong move could spell death for the whole of the Empire. Owen has never understood or cared for the practical realities.”

“Unlike you, Captain?”

“Oh, I’ve always been a practical man, Sean. That’s why the Deathstalker’s the official hero of the Empire, and I’m still just a Captain. But in the end, I was the one Parliament trusted with its orders; trusted to save Humanity. They know I’ll get the job done, no matter what.”

“And Hazel d‘Ark?”

Silence winced. “Let’s not talk about her. I have my orders. No one is to be allowed to interfere with this mission.”

“You never change, Captain,” said Carrion.

And then they both suddenly vanished from the bridge, plucked away by powerful forces in the depths of the planet below, teleported down into the cold heart of the Wolfing World.

 

They all arrived together, in the same moment, four human figures materializing in the midst of a great green forest. The surrounding trees stood tall and proud, draped in heavy swaths of summer greenery. Angled shafts of golden sunlight dropped down through the canopy of interlocking branches high overhead. Dust motes swirled lazily in the glimmering light. The air was full of the rich scents of earth and mulch and leaves and growing things. But for all its grandeur the forest was still and silent, with not a sound anywhere. This was not a real wood, not a natural thing. The Wolfings had created the forest long and long ago, so they could have somewhere to run and play and hunt. Now they were all gone, save for Wulf, the last of his kind, but the forest remained.

Owen and Hazel looked at Silence and Carrion, who looked right back at them. After a moment that seemed to stretch and stretch, Owen and Silence straightened up a little, and ostentatiously moved their hands away from their guns. They nodded slightly to each other, as close as two such old rivals could ever come to bowing. Respect had never been a problem between them; only politics. And very different ideas of duty. Hazel sniffed loudly, and moved her hand from her gun to her belt. Carrion leaned casually on his power lance.

“Well,” said Owen finally. “It’s been a long time since we last met, hasn’t it, Captain?”

“Not since Lionstone’s last Court,” said Silence. “Just as well really. We never did have anything in common, except the things we fought over.”

“Who’s your friend in black?” said Hazel.

“I am Carrion; a traitor and destroyer of worlds. I bring bad luck.”

Hazel looked him over, unimpressed. “Fancies himself, doesn’t he?”

Silence and Owen exchanged an understanding look, acknowledging a shared history of having to make allowances for their companions. Hazel and Carrion caught the look, but didn’t understand it, which was probably just as well. To avoid having to say anything else for a moment, they all looked around them, and the silent forest looked back. The continuing quiet was eerie, disturbing.

“We’ve all come a long way,” Owen said finally, as much to break the quiet as anything. “Is this where you thought your life would lead you, Captain? Is this the future you saw for yourself, at the beginning of your career?”

“I haven’t considered the future in a long time,” said Silence. “I have enough problems dealing with the present.”

“I know the feeling,” said Owen. “But it does seem somehow ... right, that we should end up here, where it all began. A lot of stories find their end back at their beginning.”

“Oh God, he’s gone all metaphysical again,” said Hazel. “Look, Owen; we’re only here because this is our last bit of unfinished business. The Maze gave us incredible powers. I always knew there’d be a price to pay, eventually.”

“Yes,” said Carrion. “There’s always a price. No good deed goes unpunished.”

Owen and Silence ignored both of them with the ease of long practice. “I take it you know about the latest reversal?” said Silence. “The Recreated are plowing through what’s left of the Fleet, and heading straight for Golgotha. When the homeworld falls, so does the Empire, with all of Humanity not far behind. We’re all there is left, to snatch victory from the jaws of extinction.”

“Ah hell,” said Owen. “We’ve done it before.”

“But things are very different, this time,” said a deep, growling voice, and they all turned sharply to look. The Wolfing had arrived, without any of them hearing or noticing, and now he stood before them, tall and proud and very bitter; Wulf, the last of his kind. He had a man’s shape, but he didn’t stand like a man. Easily eight feet tall, he towered over them, a commanding, threatening presence. Wide shoulders surmounted a barrel chest and a long narrow waist, all of him covered in thick golden fur. The legs curved back like a wolf, and the oversized feet and hands had long, jagged claws. In the wolfish head, sharp teeth showed in a disturbing smile. The eyes were large and intelligent and almost overpow eringly ferocious. Just standing there, motionless, the Wolfing looked very, very dangerous.

Owen kept his hands ostentatiously well away from his weapons. He’d never been too sure of just where he stood with Wulf, and now he had even more reason to be wary. Hazel stood very close at his side, scowling unwaveringly back at the Wolfing to show how unimpressed she was, but Owen could feel she was coiled tight as a spring. Captain Silence and Carrion were also standing close together, and Carrion no longer held his power lance like a staff. The Wolfing looked them over for a long moment, and then fixed his unsettling gaze on Silence.

“I remember you, Captain. We met only briefly the last time you were here, but I remember you. You thought you could destroy the Maze.”

“I did my duty,” said Silence.

“Of course you did. That’s just what the other humans said, as they hunted down and destroyed my kind all those years ago, showing no mercy to females or cubs. Have you learned no new excuses for your destruction, in all that time?”

“No,” said Carrion. “They wiped out my people too. The Ashrai. But still and all, I made my peace with the man who ordered their destruction, and Captain Silence is my friend again. I vouch for him.”

“And who vouches for you, human?” said the Wolfing.

“The Ashrai. If need be. Let us all pray I don’t need to call on them. They wouldn’t leave much standing of your fragile, pretty wood.” Carrion looked almost sadly at the Wolfing. “I sympathize with your loss, friend Wulf, but let us understand each other. We are here to do what we must, and we will do it, right or wrong, with you or despite you, as need be. I lost one people. I couldn’t bear to lose another. Can’t we be friends, Wulf, in the face of such dark evil as the Recreated?”

The Wolfing laughed suddenly, and shook his shaggy head. “You don’t even know what the Recreated are.”

“And you do?” said Owen.

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I know, young Deathstalker. Come; we are wasting time, and there’s not much left of it to waste. The Madness Maze has returned, and the baby is waking up.”

“I’m glad the Maze is back,” said Silence. “I always felt just a little guilty at destroying something so ... extraordinary. Like a barbarian tearing down a city he wasn’t advanced enough to appreciate. But it killed my men, and it was a threat, so ... I never did understand about the sleeping baby, though. It is significant?”

“You could say that,” said Hazel, smiling despite herself. “It’s Giles Deathstalker’s clone. It’s also a being of incalculable power. You know it better as the Darkvoid Device.”

Silence looked at her, startled. “A
baby
was responsible for all that death and destruction? I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it,” said the Wolfing, smiling his unsettling smile. “The baby has slept for centuries, and I have felt his power grow. If he wakes again, the whole universe may tremble, and he is very close to waking now.”

“Damn,” said Silence. “Damn! I had the Darkvoid Device in my hands, all those years ago. If I’d only known ...”

“What?” said Hazel. “What would you have done with it, Silence? Used it to protect Lionstone from us, and keep her in power? Prevented the rebellion, and all the changes we made for the better?”