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Authors: Simon R. Green

Deathstalker Honor (69 page)

BOOK: Deathstalker Honor
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“Wait a minute,” said Ruby. “You mean you staged all this, killed all these people, just to get to us?”
“Now, isn’t that just typical of human egos?” said Young Jack Random. “No, my dear, you’re not that important. Loki is a vital staging point in our expansion into Human space. But we did set things up to bring you here too. You Maze people fascinate us. And we are determined to have you in our laboratories so we can learn to do what you do. To that end, a very special device was installed in me. Its function, to suppress your more than human powers and abilities. The most powerful esp-blocker ever built.” His smile widened. “And yes, it’s been operating all the time I’ve been standing here. You are quite helpless. I advise you to surrender. If not, I will be obliged to hurt you.”
Random and Ruby looked at each other and began to laugh.
Young Jack Random looked from one to the other. “I really don’t see what use hysteria is in this situation. . . .”
“You idiot,” said Random. “Whatever we may be, we’re not espers. We established that long ago.”
And he reached inside himself and pulled up the last few sparks of his power, then surged forward, crossing the space between them with impossible speed. He raised his sword and brought it savagely down toward the Fury’s head. Flames flared around the steel blade. Young Jack Random raised a hand as though to block the blow. The blazing sword sheared through the flesh and metal hand, buried itself in Young Jack Random’s metal skull, and then continued on down in a shower of sparks, cutting through the steel and flesh body till it erupted out of his groin. The two halves of the Fury fell slowly away from each other, and lay sparking and spitting on the ground. Random stood over them, just a little out of breath.
“That . . . isn’t possible,” said a cold metallic voice from one side of the sundered head.
“It is if I believe it is,” said Random. “Now shut the hell up and die.”
He stamped on the left half of the metal head, and crushed it flat under his boot. Ruby came over and stamped on the other side of the head, and then they both used their disrupters on the two halves of the body, blowing them apart. And out on the plain, every one of the surviving Ghost Warriors suddenly collapsed and lay still, as though all their strings had been cut.
“Of course,” said Ruby. “He said he was Shub’s focus. With communications being so difficult on Loki, they needed a booster to maintain their control, and that was him. With him gone, they’re just so much metal junk. You know what, Jack, I think we just won this war.”
“Of course,” said Random. “I told you everything would be all right. You should listen to me more.”
Ruby laughed and hugged him. “We’re heroes! We’re immortal! We’re going to live forever!”
They hugged each other for a long time, and then let go and just stood companionably together, enjoying being alive.
“I’m taking our survival as a sign,” said Random. “No more pussyfooting. From now on I do what needs to be done, and God help the guilty.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Ruby. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”
“First we go find the two human armies, or what’s left of them, and persuade them that their war is over.”
“And then?”
“And then we go back to Vidar. And clean house.”
Back at the city, the populace went mad with joy over the two legendary heroes who’d saved their city and their planet. So when Jack Random asked them to do something for him, they didn’t hesitate. Soon the whole population of Vidar was gathered in the great square before the main gates, watching breathlessly as Vidar’s surviving guards fashioned a series of nooses and hung them from the inner wall. To one side knelt Matthew Tallon, once Planetary Controller, and Terrence Jacks, once Mayor of Vidar, and the few dozen rebels who’d survived the last battle. They all had their hands tied behind them. They looked for mercy in the faces of the crowd and saw none. On Random and Ruby’s other side knelt de Lisle and Bentley and all their people, down to the lowest bureaucrat, also securely tied.
“You can’t do this!” howled de Lisle. “I was Pardoned! We all were! Parliament put us in charge here! You can’t go against the authority of Parliament!”
“Watch me,” said Random. “You and your people plotted to leach this colony dry and then move on. I call that treason.”
“We have backers!” said de Lisle. “Powerful backers! I could tell you their names. . . .”
“They’ll be in the computers somewhere. We’ll find them. There’s only one thing I want to know. That man, killed and gutted and placed in two crates. That was your idea, wasn’t it?”
“It was Bentley’s idea,” De Lisle said quickly. “We needed something to motivate you, alienate you from the rebels.”
“Who was the man?” said Ruby.
De Lisle shrugged and looked at Bentley, who said nothing. Ruby kicked the security chief in the ribs.
“Nobody,” said Bentley. “Just someone we used. He wasn’t important.”
“Everyone’s important,” said Random. “That’s what separates us from Shub.” De Lisle started to splutter some excuse, but Random just looked at him, and he fell silent.
“They deserve to die,” said Tallon. “But we only ever had the best interests of Loki at heart. We rebelled because we had legitimate grievances. You of all people should be able to understand that.”
“I understand,” said Random. “But you allied yourself with Shub, the Enemies of Humanity. The end doesn’t always justify the means.”
“Jack,” said Ruby quietly, “I’m really not sure this is a good idea. Hang a few to make a point, sure, but this . . . De Lisle’s right. Parliament is never going to approve this.”
“Then to hell with Parliament,” said Jack Random. He gestured to the guards, survivors of the army he had led. They looked at him with worshipful eyes. Random gestured at the ropes. “Hang them. Hang them all.”
The guards dragged the prisoners over to the inner wall. Most went quietly. De Lisle screamed and kicked and sobbed right until they put the noose around his neck and cut off his breath forever. Tallon looked back at Random and Ruby with prophet’s eyes, and raised his voice so the crowd would be sure to hear.
“They’re monsters! You can’t trust them! They’ll turn on you in the end, because you’re only human and they’re not. They’re monsters! Monsters!”
The noose put an end to his words. Politicians and rebels hung side by side on the inner wall of Vidar, and the population of the city cheered and cheered and cheered.
Ruby looked at Random.
“Hang them all,” said Random. “They’re all politicians. All dirty. Hang them all.”
 
It was raining. Hard. The rain had started falling on the world known as Lachrymae Christi several million years earlier, and showed no signs of letting up. Fueled by the massive ocean that covered three quarters of the planet, the rain fell from eternally cloudy skies onto the jungle that covered the world’s only continent from shore to shore. It fell on the wise and the wicked, the plain and the glorious, the lucky and the unlucky, and the rain it raineth every day. Lachrymae Christi had never known summer or winter, sunshine or snow, and never once had its gray skies been blessed with a rainbow.
The rain fell on the planet’s unfortunate colonists too, though colonists wasn’t perhaps the correct word to describe them. They hadn’t come to this world through choice. They were rounded up by gloved and helmeted men and herded into the holds of cargo ships, persuaded on their way by long electric prods and drawn guns. They traveled in hardship and despair, and were finally dumped on their new home to make what kind of life they could for themselves. Supply ships left the bare necessities now and again, but that was the extent of the Empire’s compassion. No one gave a damn whether the unwilling colonists lived or died, as long as they stayed where they were put. They were banned from starflight, banned from civilization, from a Humanity that had turned its backs on them. But against all the odds, the colonists had survived, and prospered in their fashion. If only to spite those who had abandoned them there.
Lachrymae Christi was a leper colony.
 
The
Sunstrider II
dropped out of hyperspace and fell into high orbit over the world of eternal tears. Owen Deathstalker sat uncomfortably before the main viewscreen on his yacht’s bridge, and studied the silent planet’s image, hidden beneath its perpetually swirling shroud of clouds. He didn’t know much about Lachrymae Christi. Not many did. It wasn’t something respectable people talked about, as though just using the dreaded word might somehow attract the disease’s attention. For centuries the Empire had boasted that its scientists had defeated disease, and that with the regeneration machines and the cloning tanks, nothing should stop a man of decent means from living a long and healthy life. It was a different matter for the poor, of course, but that was true of everything.
Then, some seventy years ago, leprosy had returned—an almost forgotten horror from Humanity’s distant past—and the scientists could do nothing. It spread rapidly from world to world, infecting rich and poor alike, and soon it was everywhere. No one knew what caused or spread it, and there was no hope or comfort available for its victims. Only isolation, shunned by friends and neighbors. And so, rather than have the victims hanging around as a reminder of science’s failure, it was decided that once diagnosed, all lepers would be given a one-way ticket to the Rim, and a world no one wanted, where they could be with their own kind, and Humanity could comfortably forget them.
Only some people couldn’t, wouldn’t forget.
Hazel d’Ark slouched onto the bridge and dropped bonelessly into the chair next to Owen’s. She scowled at the image on the viewscreen and sniffed loudly. “I can’t believe you agreed to this mission, Owen. I swear if I leave here with less than my usual number of fingers, I am personally going to drop-kick you out the nearest airlock.”
“There’s really nothing to worry about,” said Owen, trying hard to sound reassuring. “All the latest medical information says you can’t catch leprosy by casual contact. I checked.”
“They don’t know that! They don’t know anything for sure. They still haven’t even worked out where the hell it came from.”
“What exactly is this leprosy?” said Midnight Blue from behind them. The tall, dark warrior woman was leaning in the doorway, drinking a vitamin extract straight from the bottle. “We don’t have anything like it where I come from.”
“Same here,” said Bonnie Bedlam, pushing past Midnight to claim the only remaining chair on the bridge. Her various piercings clattered loudly as she sat down. “Are there really people down there with bits falling off them?”
“Only in the worst cases,” said Owen. “It’s a neurological disease. Victims lose all sense of feeling. Even small wounds refuse to heal and become infected. Flesh rots and decays. It’s a slow and very nasty way to die. There are some drugs that help, but not much.”
“Is it too late to turn this ship around?” said Bonnie.
“I thought you believed in disfigurement as a fashion statement,” said Midnight.
“There are limits,” said Bonnie. “Though I never thought I’d hear myself saying that.” She leaned in closer to Owen, and he did his best not to flinch away. “You know, Owen, this disease sounds too bad to be true. Could it be some bioweapon that got loose from a lab?”
“You’re not the first person to suggest that,” said Hazel. “Truth is, no one knows. It doesn’t appear to be related to any other current disease. It could well have been some damn fool’s idea of a last-ditch terror weapon. And it would explain how it just appeared out of nowhere.”
“Of course, that could be nothing more than general paranoia,” said Owen. “There was a lot of that about during Lionstone’s reign.”
“Yeah,” said Hazel. “Mostly because they really were out to get you.”
“True. Thank God things have changed since then.”
Every alarm on the bridge went off at once, with flashing lights and sirens screaming loudly enough to wake the dead. Owen stared in disbelief at the control panels before him.
“I don’t believe it!”
“What? What?” said Hazel.
“A Hadenman ship just dropped out of hyperspace right next to us! How the hell did they know we were going to be here? ”
“Tell you what,” said Hazel, stabbing desperately at the controls. “ You ask them, and I’ll concentrate on getting us the hell out of here.”
“ I thought Owen was supposed to be their Redeemer,” said Bonnie.
“Yeah, well,” said Owen, busily activating every defensive shield the
Sunstrider II
had, “after Brahmin II, I think we can safely consider that particular title obsolete.” He hit the intercom switch. “Moon! Get your silicon ass up here!”
“ I’m already here,” said the grating tones of the augmented man. Tobias Moon strode over to stand beside Owen, studying the image of the vast golden ship on the viewscreen with his glowing golden eyes. “My people have found us again.”
BOOK: Deathstalker Honor
6.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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