Deathstalker Rebellion (74 page)

The Faithful pressed steadily forward, screaming their chants and war cries, their eyes wide and fierce in their taut faces. The battle drug burned in their veins and fired their minds. They were more than human now, unbeatable emissaries of God, performing a holy duty. Victory was inevitable. They slammed into the rebels, swinging swords and axes, their drug-fueled strength beating aside the weapons of their enemies. There was neither room nor time for individual duels. Both sides fought where they could in the milling mass that seethed this way and that, spreading slowly out through the great maze of tunnels and caverns. Blades rose and fell, and men and women fell and were trampled underfoot. Some rebels tried to flee with the youngest children, but the Faithful seemed to be everywhere, blocking the exits with drawn swords. And the drug that burned within them showed no mercy to woman or child. There was running and fighting in the corridors, war cries and screams, and blood splashed the metal walls and floors. The air in the underground grew hot and oppressive and thick with the smells of sweat and blood and the stink of ruptured bodies.

Random and Ruby fought back-to-back, surrounded by eager enemies like so many snapping dogs. Storm had been carried away in the press of fighting, and Random couldn’t spare the time to worry about his fate. His enemies pressed forward from every side, searching for a moment’s hesitation or weakness so that they could drag him down. He
swung his sword as best he could in the confined space, putting all his strength behind short savage arcs and sudden thrusts. His enemies fell, but there were always more. Random boosted, calling on the ancient Deathstalker secret he’d acquired from Owen; and on the edge of his mind he felt Ruby boosting, too. New strength flooded through them both, more than enough to counter the alchemical strength of the drug that burned so fiercely in the veins of the Faithful.

And above and below and all around, in the many tunnels and caverns and living quarters of the rebels, the Faithful and the Rejects fought and died, equally matched in savagery and determination, unable to advance and unwilling to retreat, no matter what price was paid in blood and death. Tunnel floors and doorways became blocked with the dead and the dying, and men had to clamber over corpses to get at each other. Rebels saw their families die, women and children cut down without pity or quarter, and fought the more savagely. There were screams of rage as well as pain, and the din grew deafening.

Random and Ruby fought on, held where they were by the sheer press of fighters, taking wounds as well as giving them simply because there was no room to dodge or duck. Random cut and hacked with cold precision and knew that for all his new youth and strength, and the added powers of the boost, he still wasn’t going to win this one. There were just too many Faithful fighting like berserks, uncaring of what wounds they took or whether they lived or died, as long as their enemy fell before them. More Rejects were coming, running from miles and miles of underground tunnels. In the end there’d be enough to outnumber and overpower the Church troops, but not until too many men, women, and children had been butchered by Church steel and innocent blood stained the tunnels forever.

It came to Random that he was going to die, trapped in the cramped confines of the dimly lit tunnels, far from sky and sun and open air, and the thought infuriated him. There was so much he’d intended to do, inspired by his second chance at life, and so much he’d left undone, because he’d been so sure there would be time in the future. Now time had run out. He was going to die, not through any failure of strength or spirit, but simply because he was outnumbered. And Ruby … Ruby would die, too. That thought fired him as nothing else could. He mourned the undoubted loss of his
old friend Alex and the failed hopes of the Technos rebels, but in the end it was the thought of Ruby Journey lying dead and broken on the bloody floor that flared up in him, consuming all else in a need for retribution and revenge.

His mind burst free of its self-imposed restraints and reached out to touch and join with Ruby’s. Their thoughts slammed together, merging and melding, becoming a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. A brilliant light flared up around them, blazing hot like the sun, devouring those around them who couldn’t retreat fast enough. The Faithful burst into flames, burning like candles, their flesh running like hot wax. The heat consumed the Church troops in seconds, melting their swords and body armor, spreading out through the tunnels in a traveling wave of spontaneous combustions. Only the Rejects were untouched, though the heat of the burning bodies drove them back, arms raised to protect their faces. The Faithful screamed and died, and suddenly the survivors had turned and were running back toward the surface and sanity. The wave of killing heat swept after them, snapping at the heels of the slowest and setting their hair alight. Horrid shadows danced along the metal walls as the Faithful fled, screaming in horror as though the devil himself pursued them. And perhaps he did.

The surviving Church troops grabbed men, women, and children and held them close, to prevent the hellfire setting them alight. The tactic worked, and more and more hostages were taken until the Faithful reached the upper levels and there were no more Rejects. They burst out onto the surface, clinging desperately to their struggling captives, and the hellfire followed them no farther. Men came running to help them and were greeted with tears and panted curses and hysterical laughter. Of the six thousand Faithful who went down into the underground, only four hundred and seven returned, not all of them in their right minds. They brought with them three hundred and twenty-seven captives, mostly women and children. And that was the end of Cardinal Kassar’s great offensive against the Technos rebels.

Deep down in the rebel tunnels, Random and Ruby stood alone in a dimly lit corridor. The fire was gone, and they had fallen back into their own minds again. Smoldering bodies surrounded them for as far as they could see, and the air was thick with the stench of burned meat. They looked at each other, just a man and a woman again. Or so they hoped.
Their minds had followed along with the flames, and they knew what they had done. Alexander Storm and Specter Alice found them standing together, staring into each other’s eyes, as they came stepping carefully over the charred bodies that covered the tunnel floor. They stopped a safe distance away and waited to be noticed. Random and Ruby finally turned to look at them, and Storm had to fight down an impulse to fall back a step. They both looked younger, fiercer, more than human, as though the terrible heat they’d generated had somehow burned away the impurities in them. Looking into their eyes was like looking into the sun.

“They’re all gone,” Storm said harshly. “We’ve started clearing out the tunnels, but it’ll take some time. There are a lot of bodies to shift.”

“The survivors took prisoners with them,” said Specter Alice. “We don’t know who or how many yet. We’ll have to sort through the dead first. God knows what the Wolfes will do with their prize. They’ve never taken captives before.”

“Don’t worry,” said Random. “We’ll get them back.” As he spoke the fire slowly went out of his eyes until he was just a man again. “Spread the word. When the force Screen goes down for the ceremony tonight, we attack in force. All of us. We’ll free the clones and the prisoners, disrupt the ceremony, and trash the stardrive assembly lines. All on live holovision. That should make it clear to everyone who really rules here.”

“Jack, that’s a hell of a lot easier said than done,” said Storm. “The Rejects have tried mass attacks before, but it never worked.”

“They didn’t have Ruby and myself to lead them,” said Random. “We’ll make all the difference. Where’s your spirit, Alex? You and I will be right in the forefront, leading the attack. It’ll be just like old times.”

“I hope not,” said Alexander Storm, meeting Random’s eyes unflinchingly. “Dear God, I hope not.”

The ceremony was still two hours away, but Daniel and Stephanie Wolfe were already preparing themselves for the show. The right outfit was so important for such occasions. They were in Stephanie’s quarters; Daniel had been having trouble tying his cravat and had come to his sister for help. She shook her head, unsurprised, and pulled the cravat into place with short, controlled tugs. Daniel stood patiently as
she fussed over the rest of his formal outfit and looked around Stephanie’s quarters. More luxuries per square inch than most people saw in a lifetime, but Stephanie still considered her quarters to be particularly spartan and said so loudly on every conceivable occasion. She was, after all, a Wolfe and accustomed to the very best of everything. Daniel felt much the same way, but couldn’t be bothered to make a fuss. He had other things on his mind.

“You know, I shouldn’t still be doing things like this for you, Danny,” said Stephanie mildly as she stepped back to admire her work for a moment. “I know you don’t like servants getting this close to you, but Lily is supposed to be looking after you these days. She is your wife, after all.”

“Don’t know where she is,” said Daniel. “She’s never around when she’s wanted. Not that I give a damn. Her endless prattling drives me crazy. Not a word of sense in her. I sometimes think Dad wished her on me for a joke.”

“I know what you mean,” said Stephanie. “Michel’s no better. Nice build, but there’s nothing between his ears but his appetites. He’s always forgetting errands and appointments, and then he has the nerve to sulk when I yell at him. He’s good enough in bed, but he has all the personality and charisma of a soft boiled egg. We should never have agreed to marry them.”

“No choice. You saw the will; go through with the marriages or be disinherited. And we did need the businesses that came with them.”

“We’ve got their businesses now. There, that’s finished. Don’t touch your cravat again under any circumstances. Got it? Good. You’re quite right, of course. Our respective spouses are about as much use as … Oh, I don’t know. Name something really useless.”

“Lily and Michel,” said Daniel, and Stephanie had to smile, if only briefly.

“Right,” she said dryly. “I’d divorce mine in a minute if I wasn’t sure he’d take the opportunity to soak me for every credit he could, in lieu of retaining any interest in the Family businesses. We should have insisted on prenuptial arrangements, but with dear Daddy’s will they had us over a barrel, and they knew it. Either way, it’s my business and my money, and he’s not getting any of it. I’ll see him dead and rotting in the ground first.”

“Now, there’s an idea,” said Daniel. Stephanie looked
quickly to see if he was picking up on her hint, but she could tell from his preoccupied face that he was just being polite, and had already moved on to something else. “Steph, after the ceremony, how much longer do we have to hang around here?”

“Danny, we’ve been through this. At least two months, maybe three. Even with the little surprise we’ve got planned, it’ll still take that long to wrest control of the factory from dear Valentine.”

“You don’t need me here for that. You don’t need me here at all. I need to get away; there’s something more important I should be doing.”

“Danny …”

“Our father is still out there, somewhere. With the Wolfe resources behind me, I can find him, I know I can.”

“Danny, our father is dead. He died in the hostile takeover of Clan Campbell. You saw the body. What you and I saw in the Court that time was just a Ghost Warrior: a corpse with computer implants to keep it moving and talking.”

“No! It
was
him. He recognized me. He’s still alive, trapped in that decaying body. I have to find him, free him, one way or another.”

“Let it go, Danny! Our father, whatever state he’s in now, is the past. We have to look to the future. He never cared for us, except to carry on the Family genes. I need you. I need your support, here and at Court. I can’t tear down Valentine and run this Family on my own. I need you, Danny! I always have, you know that.”

“Why? So I can stand at your side and look good? Fight duels over your honor? Hold your hand when things get a bit rough? You’ve got Michel for that, or if he’s not up to it, you can always hire someone. The only real battles are over politics and money, and I’ve never understood either of them. I have to go, Steph. Daddy needs me. No one else will help him. Most people are glad he’s dead. I’m all he’s got.”

“Our father is dead! How many times do I have to tell you? Get it through your thick skull; what we saw was just a Shub trick, and you fell for it!”

“I thought you at least would believe me! You think I’m crazy, too!”

His face went all red and puffy, and he started to cry like a child. Stephanie sighed, stepped forward, and took him
into her arms. He held her tightly, his face buried in her neck.

“I can’t let him down,” he said muffledly. “He never needed me for anything before. And he went and died before I could say good-bye. Before I could tell him I loved him.”

“Forget Daddy,” said Stephanie. “You don’t need him anymore. You’ve got me now.”

And she pushed him away from her a little and kissed him on the mouth with far more passion than a sister should show for a brother. Daniel put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently but firmly away from him.

“No. This isn’t right, Steph.”

“We’re Wolfes, Danny. We can do whatever we want. We decide what’s right.”

“Not this. Wolfes have never gone in for … this sort of thing. Even we have to follow some rules, or there’d be no point to anything. Besides, if word got out, and you know it would eventually, we’d lose all respect among the Clans. If we’re too weak to control our own desires, then we’re too weak to control our Family. That’s what they’d think, and they’d be right. I love you, Steph, and I’ll always love you—as a sister. I’ll stay with you for as long as you really need me, but then I’m gone. Don’t try and stop me. I love you, but he’s my father.”

“Let’s go,” said Stephanie, not looking at him. “We have to meet with Cardinal Kassar and Half A Man before the ceremony begins.”

They all ended up in the main reception hall again. Some optimistic soul had put up colored trimmings and streamers, and servants in full formal dress were preparing a buffet of little snacks and munchie things. There were also wines and champagnes in great quantity, if not quality. Cardinal Kassar seemed to be drinking most of it. Word had quickly reached him of his troops’ fate in the rebel tunnels, and though he was loudly declaring it a great success to all and sundry, it was clear he wasn’t fooling anyone, not even himself. Daniel and Stephanie looked on impatiently as Kassar blustered on, angrily brandishing his glass as he shored up his arguments with details that had more and more of fantasy in them. Half A Man’s thoughts were hidden, as always, and the Investigator at his side kept a diplomatic silence.