Deathstalker Honor (60 page)

The invasion had actually begun to slow when Shub launched its new wave. Vast armadas of new ships made their appearance, without the new stardrive but built from the harvested metal trees of Unseeli. From these ships issued great armies of Ghost Warriors and Furies and the deadly biomechanical aliens they had looted from the secret Vaults on Grendel. Unstoppable, implacable, they existed only to kill. Dead men with computer implants. Steel machines in the shape of men. Aliens bioengineered by some forgotten race to be perfect killing machines. Horror troops. Terror weapons. Just like the insects, they overran Humanity’s armies, leaving only blood and bone behind. But still Humanity resisted, forgetting old animosities and diversions in the face of a common enemy. There were victories as well as losses, but never enough.

The Empire was being invaded on three fronts, by its most deadly enemies, and the fighting was spread across worlds already sickened and weakened by the length and bitter fighting of the rebellion. Some just didn’t have it in them to fight anymore. There were shortages of everything needed to fight a war, the ships and weapons that ought to have stopped the invaders having been used up when Humanity fought itself. Shub and the Hadenmen and the insects had chosen their moment well. But Humanity fought on, and thanked God that at least the alien Recreated hadn’t made an appearance yet. Because there was no one left to watch the Darkvoid.

The people called out for their heroes, the great warriors of the rebellion, but most were dead, or nowhere to be found. And the four greatest, the four survivors of the Madness Maze, had been sent off on distant, vital missions from which they might not return.

 

The army of the rogue AIs of Shub came to the planet Loki, world of eternal storms, and were invited in by human traitors. Ghost Warriors strode unfeeling through the howling winds of Loki, side by side with the human turncoats. Outer settlements fell quickly, and the central city of Vidar, overseer of the extensive mining operations, sent out a desperate call for help. There were no ships available, but it was a valuable planet, so Parliament did the next best thing, and sent them Jack Random and Ruby Journey.

The
Defiance
dropped out of hyperspace over Loki, hung around just long enough to drop a heavily armored pinnace, and then it was gone again, needed urgently elsewhere. The pinnace, wrapped in four times the usual amount of protective armor, dropped like a stone into the violently swirling atmosphere of Loki. Inside, the two living legends and their accompanying marine crew clung desperately to every handhold they could find, their crash webbing swinging them crazily back and forth. There were warning lights flashing all over the place, and everything not actually nailed down flew about the cramped cabin like so much shrapnel. The crew of a half dozen marines hunched their heads down into their shoulders, and did their best to hang on to their last meal. Random did his best to look stoic and experienced, while Ruby swung happily back and forth in her webbing, whooping loudly with glee at every new drop and lurch.

“Now, this is what I call a ride!” she yelled over the din of the storm and the pinnace’s straining engines. “You’d have to pay good money for a ride like this back in Golgotha’s theme parks!”

“Can’t you do anything to settle this ship down?” Random yelled to the pilot at the front of the cabin. The floor dropped out from under his feet again, and he clung grimly to a nearby stanchion with both hands. “I have been in crashing elevators that were less uncomfortable than this!”

“Spoilsport!” said Ruby loudly. “You’re getting old, Random!”

“Shut the hell up and let me concentrate!” the pilot shouted back, entirely unmoved. “The gyros are useless in weather systems like this; the conditions are changing too suddenly for the computers to cope. The best we can do for now is drop like a brick and hope conditions improve as we get nearer the surface. Though I wouldn’t put money on it. If you don’t like the way I fly, there are parachutes under your seats. Of course, the storm lightning will fry you the minute you open the outer hatch, but that’s your problem. Thank you for flying with us, and for God’s sake try to get some of it in the sick bags.”

“Let the man do his job,” said the massive Sergeant to Random’s left. He was a thirty-year man with a trim, muscular form and an impressive number of combat drops to his credit. Half the Sergeant’s face was covered with a spiderweb tattoo, and golden skulls and crossbones hung from both ears. His name tab said MILLER. “He’s made this drop twice before, which is twice more than anyone else has. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m glad someone does,” said Ruby, from the webbing on Random’s right. “I mean, normally people who express an interest in visiting Loki of their own free will are immediately grabbed and locked up in a rubber room under industrial-strength sedatives, before they hurt themselves. Loki is the only planet in the Empire with worse weather than Mistworld. They only got colonists to come here by bribing them with massive land grants and more credit than they could spend in a lifetime. If the Empire needed an enema, this world is where they’d stick—”

“We had to come,” said Random. “We’re needed.”

“I was quite happy back on Golgotha,” said Ruby. “Living in a civilized city where the weather does what it’s told, chasing down possible Shub connections. But no, Jack bloody Random has to go chasing off to be a hero again, and I get dragged along with him.”

“You know we had to come,” said Random. He looked back at the Sergeant. “You’re sure Young Jack Random is down there somewhere?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve got holovid footage if you want to see it.” Miller’s mouth twitched as though he’d just tasted something sour. “The cameraman got fried before he could broadcast much, but we’re pretty sure it’s him. I thought you people said he died on Golgotha.”

“He did,” said Random. “Show us the footage.”

The Sergeant made the connection through the pinnace’s computers, and the holovid played back through Random and Ruby’s comm implants, channeled directly through their optic nerves. The interior of the pinnace cabin vanished, replaced by a jerky, uncertain scene of a village in flames. Gusting winds fanned the fires, and black smoke thick with drifting smuts and cinders billowed through the still streets. There were bodies lying everywhere. Men, women, children, lying in great pools of blood. Not all the bodies were intact.

Ghost Warriors strode stiffly through the inferno, untouched by the intense heat. Dead men walking, their gray flesh rotting on their bones. And at their head, smiling and laughing, a sword dripping blood in one hand, was Young Jack Random. Tall, muscular, handsome, every inch the hero of legend. A severed human head hung by its blood-slick hair from his other hand. He stopped, suddenly aware of the camera, turned and struck a pose, standing half silhouetted against the crimson flames of a burning house. He smiled widely, showing perfect white teeth. His silver armor was running with blood, none of it his. He held up the severed head so it faced the camera, then laughed and gestured with his bloody sword. Two Ghost Warriors advanced on the camera. The footage cut off abruptly, and the pinnace cabin returned. Random and Ruby looked at each other.

“Well?” said Miller. “Is that him?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ruby. “That’s Young Jack Random, doing what he does best.”

“So what’s the story?” demanded the Sergeant. “Officially, the man died a hero, leading the street fighting in the Parade of the Endless. Unofficially, there were all kinds of rumors. Some say he was killed by his own side for betraying the cause. Others say you people killed him because he wouldn’t go along with the deal you struck with Blue Block. Some say he never died. Just walked away in disgust from all the killing, but that he’d return again in the hour of the Empire’s greatest need. Lot of people liked that one. Word is, when he first appeared on Loki, people flocked to him as a savior. Until word came back with the few survivors that he was leading an army of Ghost Warriors and wasn’t interested in taking prisoners. So, talk to me. If I’m going to have to face that man dirtside, I have a right to know.”

“Of course you have,” said Random. “He’s not a man. He’s a machine. A Fury. You can understand why we thought we had to keep that quiet.”

“Jesus,” said Miller. “ But . . . he was a hero. He helped lead the rebellion.”

“Shub was taking the long view,” said Ruby. “If we won, they wanted one of their own in a position of power and influence. We only found out his true nature by accident. An esper colleague of ours destroyed his body completely. Flattened him out like metal roadkill.”

“So how come he’s back here making trouble?”

“It would appear Shub has built another one,” said Random. “Another me. I suppose I should be flattered. It’s psychological warfare. Just a little something extra to undermine human morale. Or perhaps a lure to bring me here, for some purpose of their own. When we find the Fury, I’ll be sure to see what he has to say about it. Before I destroy him again.”

“If we can,” said Ruby. “Furies can take a hell of a lot of punishment. Julian Skye was a powerful esper. There’s no guarantee we’ll find anyone of his caliber dirtside.”

“Julian Skye killed the original?” said the Sergeant, his face lighting up. “Damn, I watch his show all the time! He was a real hero!”

“Yes,” said Random. “One of the few of us who really was. I wish he was here now.”

“Probably too busy doing close-ups,” said Ruby. “While we get to do the dirty work, as always. What’s the matter, Sergeant? Aren’t two living legends enough for you?”

“No offense,” said the Sergeant quickly. “Everyone knows your record. And I’m sure having the real Jack Random to lead them will do wonders for civilian morale.”

The pinnace lurched wildly from side to side as it hit another patch of extreme turbulence. The crash webbing swung violently back and forth, slamming its human contents against each other. The cabin lights flickered and threatened to go out, but somehow hung on. Thunder rolled almost continuously, lightning crawling the length of the outer hull, and the winds howled like the storm given voice. From up front the pilot’s continuous cursing grew ever more vicious as his hands darted over the controls. The Sergeant swung down out of his webbing, bracing himself against the sudden roll and sway of the drop with two separate handholds.

“I’d better go see if I can help the pilot! Back in a minute!”

He staggered off down the narrow central aisle, throwing himself into the co-pilot’s seat and strapping in next to the pilot. Their lips moved, but Random couldn’t hear anything. They’d switched to a private channel on their comm implants. Which implied really bad news. Random looked away and studied the other marines in their crash webbing opposite him. They paid him no attention, each lost in their own private rituals of comfort.

One was working a neon rosary, eyes closed, lips moving in silent prayer. Another was trying to tell an endless joke to the man beside him, who was pretending to be asleep. The others were passing a metal flask of something bracing back and forth. They didn’t offer any to Random or Ruby. He gestured for her to lean closer. Normally a murmur would have been lost in the din, but Random and Ruby could always hear each other, no matter what the conditions. Just another gift from the Maze.

“I had been wondering why they wanted us here when we were doing so well uncovering Shub connections,” said Random. “But if that really is Young Jack Random down there, then we could be the only hope Loki has.”

“Maybe,” said Ruby. “But why us rather than Owen and Hazel? They’re the licensed troubleshooters these days. I can’t help wondering if maybe our investigations were bringing us too close to something, or someone, that didn’t want to be uncovered.”

“No,” said Random. “I would have insisted on this assignment, and they knew it. I need to do this. I wasn’t there when my metal duplicate was destroyed. I never got my chance to face him, to test myself against him. I need to see him fall before me, Ruby. I need to tear him apart with my bare hands for all the terrible things he’s done while wearing my face.”

“And not just because for a while he seemed a better leader of men than you, and a much more plausible hero?”

“Of course not,” said Random. “How could you think such a thing of me?”

They smiled dryly at each other, and then the side of the pinnace opposite them exploded. An entire section of the hull disappeared, blown away by a direct hit from a disrupter cannon. The marines were sucked right out of the gaping hole, their security hooks ripped out of the steel floor in a moment, gone before they even had time to scream. New alarm sirens sounded, and red warning lights flashed as the cabin atmosphere boiled out the hull breach and the temperature plummeted.

The pinnace spun as it fell, spiraling toward the planet’s surface as the pilot opened up the engines, struggling to outrun and outmaneuver the enemy’s tracking systems. Random and Ruby struggled for air as the cabin pressure dropped, and breathing masks fell down from above them. They tried to reach for the masks, but their crash webbing was being sucked toward the hull breach, and it was all they could do to hang on. Random fought for air, and prayed the security hooks would hold. There was nothing he or Ruby could do till the ship fell deep enough into the planet’s atmosphere to equalize the pressure.

Then he looked over at Ruby and saw her struggling to release the webbing. He called out to her, but she wouldn’t listen. The straps finally let go, and she lurched out onto the slippery steel floor, clinging to a nearby stanchion with fingers like claws. She let go with one hand and grabbed a steel gun locker on the wall. It was almost as wide as it was tall, and had to weigh the best part of a ton. Ruby ripped it off the wall, and with an effort that tore an agonized silent scream from her, she threw the locker in the direction of the hull breach, which sucked it into place, neatly covering the gap in the hull.