Deathstalker Honor (19 page)

Besides, Gregor Shreck was a powerful and dangerous man, even if he had fallen from favor just lately. He surrounded himself with an army of private guards, and even Finlay Campbell couldn’t take on a whole army single-handed.

She couldn’t risk losing him. Not now, not after they’d gone through so much to get here.

Secrets. So many secrets between two people.

And there were more. Before Gregor had disappeared behind his private army and enough corrupt influence to keep even Parliament’s hounds at bay, he’d contacted Evangeline to let her know he’d taken her best friend, Penny DeCarlo, as his prisoner. And that dear Penny would die in horrible agony if Evangeline didn’t return to him. Finlay didn’t know about that, either. She hadn’t told him. Because once again he’d go rushing off to be the hero for her sake and get himself killed. So far she’d kept Gregor at bay by various strategems, but they’d mostly run out now. Soon she would have to find a way to rescue Penny that didn’t involve Finlay, or go back to Gregor and hope to sort out some kind of deal. Either way had its dangers, but her time in the rebellion had hardened Evangeline. She was no longer the weak, helpless victim that Gregor remembered. And just maybe that was a weapon she could use against him.

Not far away, someone else was watching Finlay Campbell. The esper Julian Skye had been Finlay’s friend and disciple ever since the Campbell rescued him from the torture cells of the Imperial interrogators. Julian still carried the scars, mental and physical, from the things that had been done to him, but he owed his life to Finlay, and dedicated that life to the Campbell’s service. The Campbell didn’t get a say in the matter. But now that Finlay had found a new life in politics, he didn’t need a warrior at his side anymore. And Julian understood nothing of politics, and cared even less.

He was currently occupying himself by portraying himself in docudramas of his times during the rebellion. He’d never seen himself as an actor, but people had really liked watching him in the news footage Toby and Flynn had shot, and apparently that was enough to make you a star, if not an actor. He’d never be a major attraction, but he had an audience and a faithful following, and he made more than enough money to indulge his few vices. It helped that the memories he’d dictated to the screenwriters had been almost entirely fictional. The public wanted the legend, not the facts, and there was still so much of his past that he couldn’t bring himself to talk about. Very definitely including the woman who was standing not so far away from him, that petite, dark-haired oriental beauty BB Chojiro.

He’d loved her once. Loved her, and she betrayed him to the Imperial torturers. Because he was a rebel, and because the BB in her name stood for Blue Block, the secret inner circle of young aristos conditioned to be loyal to the Families to the death and beyond. She still loved him, but she had to follow her conditioning. She had said that to him in the cell of the torturers.

But now Blue Block was running the Families for their own good. And BB Chojiro was the pleasant public face of that inner circle. She had come to Parliament, as usual, to stand quietly at the back to listen to all that was said. Everyone knew that when she spoke, she spoke as the voice of Blue Block, and everyone listened. If they knew what was good for them.

This was the first time Julian had dared to come to the Chamber. To be so close to BB Chojiro . . . Part of him still desperately wanted to kill her for what she’d done to him, for what had been done to him because of her. For the betrayal of everything he’d thought they had between them. And part of him wondered if even now he’d forget all that, forgive her everything, if she would just take him in her arms and kiss him and love him once again.

So, frightened, he stayed away. But now here he was, not ten feet away from her, and damned if he knew why. Perhaps it was just unfinished business, as simple as that. Either way, he had come to Parliament to see her and perhaps talk to her. And if he didn’t kill her, he might just learn how to be free of her. If that was what he really wanted. Julian had to smile. He was so messed up in the head where BB Chojiro was concerned that it was either laugh or go mad.

She stood at ease among her advisers, smiling and listening and saying little. A tiny little doll of a woman in a bright scarlet kimono the exact shade of her lips. Dark, straight shoulder-length hair. Huge, dark, lustrous eyes. The most beautiful woman Julian had ever seen. He ached to hold her in his arms again, a physical need like a hunger or an addiction. To feel her lips on his, her warm breath in his mouth . . . And then maybe he’d kill her, or maybe he wouldn’t. He didn’t know. He hadn’t decided yet.

Standing beside BB Chojiro, unnoticed by the obsessed Julian, stood Stephanie Wolfe, sister to Valentine, stepdaughter to Constance. Tall, blond, boyishly slim, brimming over with barely suppressed resentments. When her late father, Jacob, had been the Wolfe, the Clan had been one of the most powerful Families in the Empire. Then Jacob died and Valentine took over, and it all went to hell. Now Valentine was on the run, Jacob’s dead body had been transformed into a Ghost Warrior by the rogue AIs of Shub, and her beloved brother Daniel had gone off in search of it. Which meant only Constance and Stephanie remained to represent Clan Wolfe in the highest circles.

“I should be the Wolfe,” said Stephanie, not for the first time.

“Of course you should,” said BB Chojiro, flashing her a smile that meant nothing at all. “And you will be. Blue Block has promised you this.”

“You talk and talk, but nothing changes.” Stephanie scowled. “Constance cannot be the Wolfe. She has no right. I am Jacob’s blood. She just married him.”

“Have I mentioned recently how obsessed you are on this subject, Stephanie? Just one of the reasons why so many of your peers currently prefer Constance as Wolfe. They see her as more . . . approachable. We meet as little as I can arrange, but still I know your refrain so well I could practically say it along with you. Let us please change the subject, before my ears begin to bleed. Any sign of Daniel yet?”

“No.” Stephanie’s scowl deepened, as honest concern changed her mouth from its sullen pout to a flat, compressed line. Daniel was the only person apart from herself she still gave a damn about. “He was last seen heading into the Forbidden Sector. No one seems to know how he got past the Quarantine ships. The only thing left before him now is Shub. Poor damned fool.”

“Yes. Let us wish him the comfort of a quick death.”

“No! He’s no threat to Shub. They’ll see that and send him home again. What could they hope to gain by hurting someone as harmless as him?”

They hurt us because they can,
thought BB.
Because they are artificial, living metal, and have only hatred for all that is flesh.
“Yes,” she said aloud. “Let us hope for a miracle. Hope costs nothing.”

Stephanie sniffed. “Whatever happens, Daniel will survive. He’s a Wolfe, after all. But if the Clan is to survive, I must lead it. As you suggested, I have been moving, through the lower orders of the Clan, gathering support. Many are unhappy with an outsider, not of the blood, as the Wolfe. They would support me if I found it necessary, for the good of the Clan, to take . . . certain steps.”

BB turned to Stephanie for the first time, and fixed her in place with her dark, unwavering gaze. “I have said before, you are not to kill Constance, or have her killed, in any way that might be traced back to you. The deal we made with Random prohibits such measures.”

“We may have no choice,” Stephanie said stubbornly. “You saw Constance talking to Owen. You know as well as I what they were discussing. A marriage between her and the Deathstalker could put the whole House of Wolfe under their joint control. Clan Deathstalker might even consume Clan Wolfe, and then our name would vanish forever! That cannot be allowed. We must strike at Constance while we still can. With Owen guarding her, we’d never be able to touch her.”

“As always, you think too small, Stephanie. With Constance and Owen married, it shouldn’t be too difficult to control Owen through threats to Constance. He might not love her, but as his wife he would be obliged to protect her, or suffer much loss of face before Society. Owen is practical enough to understand the realities of the situation. He will cede control of Clan Wolfe to you, and then we will control both the Wolfe and the Deathstalker Clans.”

“Wait a minute,” said Stephanie. “What do you mean, control Clan Deathstalker? There is only Owen. He’s the last of his line, the last Deathstalker.”

“You really must learn to think of the future, Stephanie. If he marries, eventually there will be children. In Blue Block we always think in the long term.”

“I hate it when you lecture me,” snapped Stephanie. “I’m not a child. I’m not stupid. I just don’t care about anything but rebuilding my Family. Everything else has to wait. But then, you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You had all the pride in your Family brainwashed out of you once you were given to Blue Block. Hell, they even took your name away from you.”

BB Chojiro smiled gently. “I lost little and gained much. Blue Block is the sum of all the Families. Through it we shall all attain greatness. BB is who and what I am, who and what I have made of myself, and I take pride in my achievement.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you’re a mind-wiped, totally conditioned zombie who wouldn’t know an original thought if you fell over it. What did the Families think they were doing when they created Blue Block? You were supposed to be our ultimate weapon, to give us control over the Throne. And now we all bow down to you. We made our own collars and fastened then around our necks without even realizing.”

“Quite,” said BB Chojiro. “Now please be quiet, or I’ll tug on your leash. An old friend is approaching. Perhaps he has good news for us.”

Cardinal Brendan had once been a Jesuit commando in the service of the Church of Christ the Warrior. He killed the heretics and the ungodly, or any who dared threaten the Church’s strength or position. The Church had been the official religion of the Empire, and closely associated with the Empress Lionstone. So when the Iron Throne was finally toppled, the Church fell with it. From the ashes of the fallen Church arose the smaller but much more respected Church of Christ the Redeemer, a nonviolent, charity-oriented Church led by Mother Superior Beatrice Christiana, the Saint of Technos III. Her first official action had been a purging of the old Church’s most offensive sinners, and its most disreputable elements, but she missed Brendan. He was Blue Block, and they looked after their own. He was now Cardinal Brendan, the Church’s representative on Golgotha, and Blue Block’s main agent in the new Church.

He wasn’t particularly memorable in person. Tall, dark, with a sardonic smile and an eyebrow always on the point of rising. He dressed simply but well, and since he made a point of talking to everybody with equal attention and favor, no one noticed that he occasionally talked quite openly with the notorious BB Chojiro. He bowed low to BB and again, not quite so low, to Stephanie Wolfe.

“Well met, gentle ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure of this summons? Parliament usually manages to get along just fine without my august presence.”

BB calmly waved for her advisers to move away a little. They bowed and did so without protest, stopping just out of earshot. They knew there were always plots within plots, to which even they were not always privy. BB smiled at Cardinal Brendan.

“You are here because Owen and his friends are all here. The Maze survivors. If Blue Block is to survive and prosper, they must be brought into the fold, or eliminated. So, since we value your opinion, you are here to study and evaluate these four people as possible future friends or enemies. Who can be turned or pressured, persuaded or bribed?”

“And if they really are what they’re supposed to be, and aren’t interested in joining us?” said Brendan.

“Then we require your most informed advice on how best to kill or dispose of them,” said BB calmly.

“You don’t want much, do you?” said Brendan. “Lionstone with all her people and all her resources couldn’t handle these four, but you think we can?”

“All things are possible, given enough time and planning,” said BB Chojiro. “They still think in terms of open warfare and the clash of armies. The gun and the sword and the simple joys of slaughter. They are as yet unexperienced in the more subtle forms of conflict. And they are, after all, so much more . . . reachable now than they were before.”

“They won the war against the Families,” said Stephanie. “You lost. Remember?”

“We lost a battle,” said BB. “The war continues, in other ways.”

“Still, better watch your ass, Cardinal,” said Stephanie. “Side too openly with Blue Block, or raise the ire of one of our great rebel heroes, and Saint Bea will throw you right out of the Church, just like all the others.”

“Nothing will happen to our most loyal Cardinal,” said BB. “Reports will be misfiled, paperwork lost, rumors misdirected. Mother Beatrice hears what we wish her to hear.”