Deathstalker (80 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Deathstalker
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“I should have known you’d be here. You always had to be in at the kill, didn’t you? You learned that much from me, at least. You’re looking good, son.”

“I look after myself,” said Dram. “I had a lot of practice at that while you were off running around the Empire, playing Warrior Prime. And since you weren’t there to be a father to me, I occupied myself by studying the great game of politics and intrigue at the Imperial Court. All the plots and plans and maneuverings you could never be bothered with. Just like you could never be bothered with me. I’ve become everything you ever hated, Father, and you don’t know how warm that makes me feel inside.”

“You were an unnatural child,” said Giles. “You broke your mother’s heart, and you would have broken mine, if I’d let you. For a long time I thought you were dead. I paid the assassin enough. But I never did see the body. I assume you slept the years away in stasis, like me?”

“Oh, yes, Father. I wanted to be here waiting for you when you finally reappeared. The Empress Lionstone found and awakened me, and I’ve spent the last few years amusing myself by acquiring every honor you ever had, and more. I’m Warrior Prime now, and official Consort, and one day not too far off, I’ll be Emperor. And the Empire you helped make, and believed in so fiercely, will kneel down and fear me. But don’t worry, Father. I won’t forget you. I’ll keep your head in a glass case by my throne, so I can look at it every day and laugh.”

“You always did talk too much,” said Giles. “Are you going to talk me to death, or shall we fight?”

“Oh, we’re going to fight, Father. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. And don’t worry; if I look like losing, my people will kill you anyway.”

“You never did have any honor.”

“And you always had too much. Time to die, old man. I’m going to put you out of my misery.”

As suddenly as that they slammed together, blades flashing, attacking and parrying and leaping apart, all in a moment. Sparks flew where their swords met, and the air was
full of the ring of steel on steel. They stamped back and forth, grunting with the effort of their blows, and slowly, foot by foot, Giles was driven back. He’d already taken enough wounds to kill a lesser man, and Dram was fresh and unhurt and a great deal younger. They fought on, oblivious to what was happening in the fighting around them, two sides of a blood feud begun nine hundred years before.

Dram fought with a cold, grinning fury that poured strength into his blows, and Giles’ arm was already tired from fighting the unnatural strength of the Wampyr, but in the end he was the Deathstalker, and Dram was not. Giles deliberately left an opening, and Dram lunged forward, his sword punching into Giles’ left side, just below the ribs. Giles’ left hand shot out and grabbed Dram’s wrist, holding the blade in place. Dram tried to jerk his blade free, and couldn’t. Giles allowed him just enough time to realize that, and for the fear to grow in Dram’s eyes, then he thrust his own sword into his son’s heart. Giles smiled into the dying eyes as the light went out of them, and then pulled back his sword and let Dram’s body fall unmoving to the ground. Giles carefully eased Dram’s sword out of his side, let it drop, and looked challengingly around him.

Most of the Imperial forces were dead or dying, but a handful of Wampyr stood watching him thoughtfully. Beyond them, Owen and Hazel were still dueling with Captain Silence and the Investigator. Giles drew his disrupter and shot one of the Wampyr. The energy beam tore right through its chest, and the force of the blow threw it off its feet. It lay still among the other bodies, and the other Wampyr studied it for a moment, as though expecting it to get back up. When it didn’t, they turned their dead faces back to Giles and formed a circle around him. They took their time. They knew he had nowhere to run. Giles swallowed hard and tried to control his harsh breathing. If he didn’t finish the fight soon, he’d bleed to death before they could kill him. He could feel the blood coursing down his left leg from the ugly wound in his side. The Wampyr studied it hungrily, and Giles shuddered in spite of himself. He was tired now and feeling his age, and after all, six Wampyr would have been a bit much for him, even in his prime.

“Owen!” he yelled harshly. “Stop playing with that man and get after Moon. He’s been gone too long. Something must have happened to him. We need the Hadenmen!”

Owen cursed silently. He’d already used practically every trick he knew, and the Captain was still beating him. But there was one thing he hadn’t tried. Hazel had taught it to him. He’d avoided using it up till now because it was a frankly dishonorable way to win, but right then, losing struck him as even less honorable. He went blade to blade with Silence, glaring at the Captain over the crossed swords, and brought his knee sharply up into Silence’s groin. The Captain’s sword wavered as his eyes squeezed shut involuntarily. Owen beat the blade aside, grabbed a handful of Silence’s tunic, and head-butted him in the face. Silence fell to his knees, blood streaming from a broken nose, and Owen turned and ran for the Tomb of the Hadenmen. The last thing he saw was the Wampyr closing in around Giles and the Investigator driving Hazel back with a flurry of blows. He didn’t look back again. He didn’t dare.

Owen found Moon easily enough. The augmented man’s body was lying on the blood-drenched floor before the Tomb of the Hadenmen. The alien was squatting over him, tearing out handfuls of his exposed guts and feasting on them. It looked up unhurriedly as Owen entered, red strands hanging from its grinning steel teeth. Owen drew his disrupter and fired, but even with his new speed, the alien dodged the beam easily. Owen drew the projectile gun from his belt, and the alien surged toward him. Owen got off two shots, both of which ricocheted harmlessly from the alien’s armor, and then the huge beast was upon him.

There was no time to draw his sword, and Owen staggered backward, grasping the alien’s wrists with both hands to keep the clawed hands away from his throat. The beast towered over him, its bloody teeth driving for his face. Owen released his hold, slumped down and threw himself forward between the alien’s legs. He hit the ground rolling and was quickly back on his feet, drawing his sword. The alien spun round to face him, and Owen met its cold grin with his own. He thought of Hazel and Giles, left to face the Imperial forces alone, of Ruby and Random left for dead, and of Moon, dying so close to everything he dreamed of, and rage swept through him, cold and fierce and unrelenting. In that moment, the alien represented everything the Empire had done to try and destroy him and those he cared for. He’d
been unable to boost while facing the Captain. In using the boost to throw off Ozymandius’ mental control, he’d used up so much of himself he hadn’t dared use it again. But now he didn’t give a damn. The alien had to die so that he could wake the Hadenmen and save Hazel and Giles. Nothing else mattered. The alien swept forward, and Owen boosted and went to meet it sword in hand. He was a Deathstalker, and the alien was about to find out what that meant.

He swung his sword at the alien’s neck with all his boosted strength, and the blade shattered against the unyielding armor. The aliens’ hands shot out and fastened onto his shoulders. Blood coursed down his arms as the claws sank deeply into his flesh and grated on bone. The creature tried to pull him closer, within reach of its horrid jaws, and Owen slammed the hand still holding the stub of his sword against the alien’s chest. His boosted muscles strained against the alien’s strength, but still he was pulled closer, inch by inch. Any other man would have been dead by now, and even with his boost and what the Maze had done to him, Owen was still a man and saw his death in the alien’s unblinking crimson eyes.

He glanced down at the hole in the alien’s gut. At least Moon had hurt it. An idea came to him, and he acted on it quickly before he could think about the implications too much. He grabbed a grenade from his pocket, primed it, and thrust it deep into the hole in the alien’s gut. He let go of it, but before he could withdraw his hand, the sides of the hole clamped shut on his wrist. Owen tried to pull free and couldn’t. So he gathered all his boosted strength and cut down savagely with the stub of blade in his other hand. The jagged steel tore through his wrist, severing his hand, and Owen threw himself backward, out of the alien’s reach. It brought its clawed hands to the hole in its gut, and the grenade, still wrapped in Owen’s hand, exploded.

White hot flames burned the alien inside and out, and the internal pressure blew the grinning head right off its shoulders. The body staggered back and forth for a long moment, its arms reaching out blindly, and then the strength went out of it suddenly, and it fell to the floor and lay still.

Owen squeezed the stump of his wrist tightly with his other hand, shuddering uncontrollably. The blood jetted out at first, far further than he’d have thought possible, but it
soon died away to a bare trickle. There was something he had to do. Something important. His gaze wandered back and forth, and finally stumbled over Moon’s decapitated head lying by the control panels. Owen shuffled forward on his knees through his own blood, still tightly gripping his wrist. The Hadenmen. He had to wake the Hadenmen. Hazel was depending on him. He reached the control panels and used them to pull himself to his feet. He leaned on it tiredly for a moment, spattering it with blood from his dripping wrist, and studied the controls. They made no sense to him at all. He glared down at Moon’s head, stooped down and picked it up with his remaining hand, so he could glare into its empty eyes.

“Moon, you bastard! What do I do? How do I awaken them? Tell me!”

A faint golden glow appeared in Moon’s eyes. His lips moved, and Owen lifted the head so that its mouth was by his ear. And very softly he heard Moon whisper, “
Blue three seven seven zero.
” Owen dropped the head and turned back to the panels. His lips were pulled back in a savage grin as he located the blue panel and punched in three seven seven zero. He turned away from the panels to look at the Tomb of the Hadenmen and cawed harshly with laughter as the ice melted and ran away, and light after light blazed in the cells of the giant honeycomb. He was still laughing when the cells opened, and the Hadenmen came forth in all their power and glory.

Not all that long after, Owen sat quietly beside the dead Wampyr while Hazel fashioned a makeshift tourniquet around his left wrist. The wound seemed to have sealed itself, another legacy of the change the Maze had wrought in him, but Hazel wasn’t taking any chances. Giles was talking quietly with Captain Silence and Investigator Frost, disarmed and under guard by half a dozen unsmiling Hadenmen. Jack Random and Ruby Journey lay side by side on stretchers, also talking quietly. The Hadenmen had got to them while sparks of life still remain in them both and then machines had repaired the damaged bodies with impressive speed. Ruby and Random were still very weak and would be for some time to come, but apparently they were expected to make a full recovery. Owen made the Hadenmen examine Moon, but they said it was too late for him. Owen told them
how Moon had come back from the shores of death to give him the necessary codes to awaken them, and they nodded politely and told him to rest.

He’d half expected the augmented men to kill him when they first emerged from their Tomb, but for the moment at least, they couldn’t do enough for their savior. They were tall and perfect and moved with inhuman grace, their eyes blazing like suns. They stopped the fighting in time to save Giles from the three remaining Wampyr. Hazel and Frost had practically dueled each other to exhaustion, and had to be almost pried apart, but the Investigator had still wanted to fight when she saw the Hadenmen. In the end, Silence had to order her to give up her sword. And as easily as that, it was all over.

Owen looked at the body of the Lord High Dram. Giles had gone to kneel beside it the moment the Hadenmen had led the three Wampyr away. He looked up when Owen joined him and said simply, “Grieve, kinsman. One of our Family is dead.” He hadn’t explained any further, and Owen hadn’t pressed him. It could wait. Lots of things could wait now. He looked across at Ruby and Random as Random turned his head slowly to smile at her.

“Looks like we’ll get to be part of the great rebellion after all. I wouldn’t have put money on it. Still, think of the glory.”

Ruby sniffed. “Think of the loot.”

“That, too,” said Jack Random.

Owen would have liked to laugh, but he didn’t have the strength. Hazel finished fussing with the tourniquet and looked at him sternly.

“You should really dive into that regeneration machine of yours, or let the Hadenmen repair you.”

Owen shook his head. “I don’t trust that machine after what Oz had it do to us. Who knows what other mental traps he might have programmed into it, or us? And I’m not sure I trust the Hadenmen that much, either. My body will heal itself in time. I can feel it. Now help me up, there’s a dear. I want to talk to the Captain.”

Hazel got him to his feet, and he walked more or less steadily over to Silence and Frost. Giles nodded and moved off to stand by Dram’s body. The Investigator glared at Owen coldly, but the Captain inclined his head slightly. The
Hadenmen had repaired his nose, but there was still a massive dark bruise between his eyes.

“You’re really not very impressive, Deathstalker, to have led the Empire such a chase.”

“I’ll try harder,” said Owen. “Now pay attention. You and the Investigator are being allowed to return to the Empire alive for a reason. We want you to tell the Iron Bitch that the rebellion has begun. The next time she sees us, we’ll be leading an army specifically put together to kick her off the Iron Throne. Make her believe it, Captain. I want her to have plenty of time to squirm.”

“What about the Wampyr?” said Silence. “They’re a bit strange, but they’re still my crew.”

“They’re staying here. The Hadenmen are fascinated by them. Why did you destroy the Maze, Captain?”

“It was necessary. It was killing my people.”

“You don’t know what you’ve done. It was a place of miracles, of possibilities. The future of Humanity.”

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