Deathstalker Rebellion (68 page)

Cardinal Kassar stopped himself shouting with an effort, gritting his teeth to hold the words back. His hands had clenched into fists, and his whole body strained to run forward and lay heavy hands on the disobedient bastards running amok before him. But he couldn’t do that. He knew Flynn’s camera was covering him as well as his men, and he couldn’t afford to be seen losing control. Everything else had gone wrong so far on this mission, but up till now he’d always found someone else to blame it on. A public failure now could undermine the whole purpose of his mission, to restore order on Technos III, and, just as important, do a hell of a lot of damage to his career prospects. So this particular display was going to go right, even if he had to start executing people at random to prove he was serious.

Toby Shreck studied Kassar from a safe distance and smiled contentedly. He knew a man on the edge of apoplexy when he saw one. He also recognized a complete military cock-up when it was coming unraveled right in front of him. He hadn’t seen such a complete mess since Valentine Wolfe slipped a little something into a marching band’s mid-time tea break, just for a laugh. The tape of that particular event was a popular best-seller for over six months. He glanced quickly at his cameraman.

“Tell me you’re getting all this, Flynn. They couldn’t be providing us a better show if they’d rehearsed it.”

“Relax, chief. Billions of people all across the Empire are watching this live.”

Toby grinned at the magic word
live.
His previous piece had already gone out to first-class ratings, the highest share Imperial News had ever achieved. Some stations were still running it and paying through the nose for the privilege. There had been talk of major awards for Toby and Flynn, and, more importantly, large bonuses. The Wolfes had gone into cardiac arrest when they first saw the piece, especially the Mother Beatrice bits, and screamed for their lawyers, but Stephanie and Daniel had somehow managed to transfer all the blame onto Valentine. They’d promised to make changes, but so far nothing significant had changed on Technos III.

The one really good thing to come out of the uproar was the Wolfes’ concession to Imperial News that Toby and Flynn would in the future be permitted to cover all important events live. There was a massive audience in the Empire waiting impatiently to see what Toby and Flynn would come up with next. Which was, of course, their main problem. A good act needs a good encore. Toby for one had not expected anything good to come out of covering a program of drill and weapons training, but he’d had to agree for want of anything else to show. No one else would talk to him now that he was being constantly shadowed by Wolfe security, and his audience was getting impatient.

Now he smiled contentedly as a bunch of the Faithful brought down a bunch of mercenaries and gathered quickly around for a bit of putting the boot in. He should have had more faith in the ability of the Wolfes and Cardinal Kassar to screw up everything they touched. He looked again at Flynn, covering the chaos before him with practiced ease. The camera was currently hovering high above the confusion, with Flynn seeing everything it saw through his comm implant link. It scooted back and forth as Flynn’s attention was caught by each new outbreak of violence. For all his faults, and he had many, Flynn was an excellent cameraman. Of course, he’d become unbearably cocky and insufferable since the amazing reception of the first broadcast. Toby was just glad the man hadn’t turned up in a black basque and feather boa, like he’d threatened.

“Heads up, chief,” said Flynn quietly. “Something wicked this way comes.”

Toby looked around and winced inwardly as he saw Kassar striding determinedly toward them. He felt a distinct twinge of unease, but was careful to keep it out of his face. People like Kassar seized on weaknesses. He bowed formally to Kassar and gave him a smile so natural he almost fooled himself.

“Good morning, Cardinal. Isn’t it a lovely day? I think the early autumn is the closest Technos III has to civilized weather. Until the razorstorms start, of course. Now, how may we assist you?”

“You can start by turning that damned camera off until we’ve got things under control.”

“Sorry, Cardinal,” said Toby pleasantly, “your superiors’ orders were quite specific. They wanted us to cover everything that happens here today.”

Kassar snorted, but had enough sense to say nothing. He’d seen the orders. The Church had felt the need for a propaganda piece to back up its ongoing negotiations for increased influence at Court, and Toby and Flynn and the Technos III Faithful had seemed the safest bet for good ratings. They’d also hoped that a well-viewed piece showing the great skills and discipline of the Church troops might go some way to restoring the damage done by Toby and Flynn’s previous piece. Kassar could have told them … but as usual, no one had asked him. His fists were clenched so tight he could feel the nails driving into his palms, but he made himself smile frostily at the two newsmen.

“Of course. Make sure you get some good footage. But I want to see every inch of your tape before it gets broadcast. The Church has very kindly supplied me with new equipment, specifically designed to detect such things as palimpsests. Or anything else you might try to sneak past me.”

Confident that this time at least he’d got the last word, Kassar turned and stalked back to his milling troops, clearing his aching throat. This time, they were going to listen. Or else. Lots of all else. Flynn watched him go.

“Do you think we should have reminded him this is going out live?”

“Not our fault if he doesn’t read his own orders carefully,” said Toby briskly. “I can’t believe they made that idiot a Cardinal.”

“Family connections,” said Flynn.

“Isn’t it always?” said Toby. “The man’s a bully and a blowhard. Do even his own men like him?”

“Are you kidding? It’s only the Jesuit commandos that have kept his men from slipping a fragmentation grenade into his toilet bowl. And even the Jesuits are getting pretty fed up with him. Still, he has his admirers in the hierarchy. After all, utter ruthlessness is what gets you on in the Church of Christ the Warrior.”

“Good point. Does Kassar ever go into battle alongside his troops, or is he strictly a rear echelon sheep-botherer?”

“Give the man his due, he does like to be in the thick of things. I don’t believe he’s missed a single battle since he got here. Offer him a chance to kill as many people as he can get his hands on and he’d as happy as a clam.” Flynn paused, and looked thoughtful. “Which is a strange expression, when you think about it. Are clams renowned for being particularly happy?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“What was the subject?”

“I forget,” said Toby. “Just keep filming. Things seem finally to be calming down, unfortunately. Maybe he threatened them all with mass crucifixions.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. I just hope he gives me time to set up some proper lighting first.”

Toby sighed. “There goes our chance of hanging onto our ratings. He’ll get it all under control, everyone will obey orders and play nicely together, and our viewers will change channels in droves. There’s no justice.”

And that was when everything went to hell in a hurry. Explosions went off all around the drill area, blasting open the jagged metal plain. The noise was deafening, and black smoke billowed up, throwing everything into confusion. More explosions roared on all sides. Shrapnel flew in the air, and Church troops and Wolfe mercs alike abandoned their discipline to run for cover. The black smoke filled the sky, blocking out the sun, so that an artificial twilight fell across the scene. There were fires blazing all over, and no one could make themselves heard.

New openings had appeared in the metal plain, and rebels came boiling up out of the new tunnels they’d dug underneath. They fired energy guns they weren’t supposed to have and lobbed grenades in all directions. The mercenaries and the Faithful tried to pull themselves together, but they were
scattered and confused, and the rebels tore right through them. Steel flashed, and blood flew in the air and pooled on the jagged metal ground. Toby Shreck watched it all with his jaw somewhere down between his knees.

“Holy shit.
Holy shit!
Flynn, tell me you’re getting this!”

“I’m getting it! I’m getting it! The light’s lousy and there’s smoke everywhere, but I’m getting it!”

The Empire forces retreated in an utter rout, fighting here and there in small clumps, but mostly just running for their lives with their heads well down. Explosions were still going off, and there seemed no end to the army of rebels pouring up out of the hidden tunnels. Jesuit commandos were screaming at their men to stand and fight, but their words were lost in the chaos. Some rebels threw themselves at the Jesuits, and they reluctantly retreated, holding off the greater numbers with stunning swordplay. Kassar spun this way and that in the middle of everything, completely thrown, unable to think what to do for the best. The rebels streamed past him, pursuing the fleeing Faithful and mercenaries. Some had Anally pulled themselves together and stopped to stand and fight, and the metal plain was quickly dotted with dueling figures. And that was when Toby Shreck recognized a familiar face. He grabbed Flynn by the shoulder and pointed urgently.

“There! Three o’clock! Do you know who that is? It’s only Jack bloody Random, the professional rebel himself! No one’s seen him in action since the fiasco on Cold Rock. I didn’t know he was on Technos III. Did you know he was on Technos III? Oh, who cares! Just keep filming. Jack Random’s comeback, and we’re covering it live! People have been awarded their own holo network chat shows for less!”

“If that is Jack Random, he’s looking very good for his age,” said Flynn, concentrating on his camera’s movements. “Vicious, too. He’s cutting through that batch of mercs like old man Death himself. Who’s that with him?”

“Don’t know the old man,” said Toby, flinching reflexively as another explosion went off. “The woman’s wearing a bounty hunter’s leathers, but I don’t know the face. We can run a trace later. You stick with Random. He’s the story here.”

He jumped back with a shriek, as a rebel appeared out of nowhere right in front of him. His eyes were dark, and blood dripped from his sword. Flynn yelled and called his camera
back to hover protectively between him and the rebel. Toby realized there were just as many rebels running behind him as in front and froze where he was. Flynn stood his ground. The rebel looked at Toby and Flynn, smiled, winked into the camera, and then disappeared back into the chaos. Apparently, even rebels understood the need for good publicity. Toby began to get his breathing back under control and was very glad he’d decided to wear brown trousers that morning.

Someone blew a whistle. Others took it up, and suddenly the rebels were breaking away from fights and pursuits and turned to fall back, disappearing down into the tunnels under the metal plain. They were all gone in a matter of a few minutes, blowing preprepared charges to seal off the holes to their tunnels, leaving the Faithful, the mercenaries, the Jesuit commandos and Cardinal Kassar standing in a daze, looking around and trying to figure out what the hell had just hit them. Smoke drifted in the air, and flames burned here and there from bodies hit by energy guns. There were dead everywhere. Hardly any rebels. They’d taken most of their wounded and dead with them. It all seemed very quiet. Kassar looked over at Flynn, still filming, and lurched toward him, his eyes wild.

“You! Stop filming! And give me that tape! Now!”

“Sorry, Cardinal,” said Toby Shreck, somehow keeping an ecstatic grin off his face. “I’m afraid this has all been going out live, as your superiors insisted. Do you have any comment you’d care to make at this time?”

Kassar raised his disrupter and blew the hovering camera out of midair. Flynn glared at him.

“You’ll be hearing from my Union about that.”

Random, Ruby, and Storm laughed breathlessly together as they ran with the Rejects, plunging down narrow tunnels and away from the pursuing Wolfe forces. The assault had gone exactly as planned, with minimum casualties on their side and maximum death and embarrassment to the Wolfes and the Church. A clone working in the factory complex had provided them with the exact timing necessary to be sure of camera coverage. Now the Rejects ran back through the new tunnels and on into older, established parts, keeping up a good pace for all their tiredness. The explosive-sealed openings wouldn’t hold the Wolfe troops back for long. They weren’t supposed to. The battle wasn’t over yet. Down be
low, in the darkness and familiar confines of the rebel underworld, the Rejects would teach a final, deadly lesson to their enemies.

The tunnels sloped steeply downward for some time, and then opened up suddenly into a vast cavern. Random lurched to a halt, as the path before him split apart to form a number of even narrower trails leading down and along the sides of the cavern. The vast open space was dizzyingly huge, as though someone had hollowed out the inside of a mountain. The ceiling was hundreds of feet above, and the cavern floor seemed as far below. Random stood very still, staring about him, as rebels jostled to get past him, running confidently down along the narrow trails. The walls were mostly smooth, polished by who knew how many centuries of running water and other abrasives. There were bright streaks of metallic blues and greens and golds, harsh traceries of long forgotten industries. Light from the rebels’ lanterns glistened brightly on metal stalactites and stalagmites, hanging ponderously from the ceiling or jutting up from the curling yellow mists that hid the cavern floor. Ruby and Storm were at Random’s side, quietly urging him forward, but he couldn’t move. It was as though he’d stumbled into a giant cathedral, the vast hidden soul of Technos III. He couldn’t seem to get his breath. He felt like a fly crawling over a stained-glass window in some old, abandoned monastery.

He finally allowed himself to be persuaded on, following Specter Alice down a long series of steps into the misty depths below. All around him the Rejects were scattering into prearranged hiding places and ambush positions. Random slowly realized that to them, this awesome place was nothing special. They didn’t see the glory and the spectacle of such a natural wonder. They had no time for that. They saw it only as a good place to launch an ambush, as just another killing ground in their never-ending war. Specter Alice led Random, Ruby, and Storm into a concealed depression in the cavern wall, giving a good view of the single entrance above. She made sure Storm was settled comfortably beside her, drew her disrupter, and then settled himself down to wait. The energy gun seemed very large in her small bony hand. Thin wisps of yellow smoke drifted up from the floor below, smelling of brimstone. The Rejects had melted into their hiding places like so many silent shadows, and now
they waited patiently with gun in hand for their enemy to come to them. The great cavern was still and quiet.