Deathstalker Rebellion (9 page)

Captain John Silence of the Empire starcruiser
Dauntless
was going home to die, and was trying hard not to give a damn. After all, he’d only failed in his mission and got most of his people killed. He looked at the brimming glass in his hand and pulled a face. The trouble with sustained heavy drinking was that after a while your tongue went numb, and you couldn’t tell what you were drinking. Though given exactly what he was pouring down his throat in great quantity, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The food synthesizers could produce alcohol and flavorings, but the combinations, like the quality, were strictly limited. It was supposed to be red wine, but all the red part did was turn his teeth pink. Still, for a wine whose vintage was under ten minutes, it wasn’t that bad. Not that it made any difference. He would have drunk it anyway.

His head hurt, his hands were shaking, and his stomach lurched this way and that when he moved. He’d been drinking steadily for almost three days now, taking time out to eat and sleep when he absolutely had to. He didn’t drink much normally, and he was finding getting drunk and staying drunk harder work than he’d expected. But he kept at it. Nothing else to do. He was a failure, going home to report that failure to an Empress who’d kill him for it.

And all those good men lost …

He was heading back to Golgotha with bad news and worse, and while the Empress Lionstone might have pardoned him once for screwing up, she wouldn’t put up with it a second time. He’d been sent to the Wolfling World on a straightforward mission. Accompanied by a contingent of trained adjusted men, the Wampyr, and the Empress’s lover and right-hand man, the Lord High Dram, he’d been commanded to arrest and execute that most renowned traitor Owen Deathstalker, and all with him, and then return to Gol
gotha with the rebels’ heads and the secrets of the legendary Wolfling World. They’d even given him the single Grendel alien ever to be subdued and controlled. An extraordinary and so far unique specimen. The mission should have been a walkover.

Instead Dram’s body was down in the cargo hold, the Grendel alien had been killed, which was supposed to be impossible, and the three Wampyr who hadn’t died fighting the rebels had been detained by the newly risen Hadenmen. Silence didn’t want to think what for. He took another drink. The Hadenmen. Once the Enemies of Humanity. Defeated long ago in a fierce and bloody war, they were supposed to be extinct, or at best sleeping endlessly in the hidden Tomb of the Hadenmen. But Owen Deathstalker had found and woken them, and now they sided with the rebels. And God help the Empire. The walls were falling, and the wolves were running loose among the flock.

He downed another drink and another. He really wasn’t looking forward to explaining to the Empress that the Wolfling World was in fact also Haden, home of the Hadenmen. Which meant the rebels now had access to the legendary laboratories of Haden, and all the wonders and horrors they had produced in the past. Science beyond reason, weapons beyond hope of stopping, and all of it aimed at the Empire. By his failure he’d signed the death warrant of civilization and quite possibly all of humanity as well.

No, he had nothing but bad news to lay before his Empress, and she would kill him for it. If his own men didn’t do it first. All the men he’d taken down into the caverns deep below the frozen surface of the Wolfling World had died there, facing weapons and horrors they could not have anticipated. And instead of avenging them, Silence had been forced to take his ship and run. His crew didn’t understand what he’d seen down there. Why it was vital he abandon everything and flee, to be sure the Empire would get advance warning of the threats to come.

So now his crew despised him. Many hated him. If the Investigator Frost hadn’t stood by him and made it very clear she would personally avenge him if he died, he wouldn’t have had to worry about facing Lionstone. There would have been a sudden, regrettable accident, and it would all have been over. Which might have been kinder, really, but you couldn’t expect an Investigator to understand that. They
were trained from childhood to hunt and kill aliens, and the subtleties of human behavior often escaped them. So he left the running of what used to be his ship to his second in command and sat alone in his cabin, drinking. To pass the time, as much as anything else.

There was a knock at his door, and he looked up, just a little blearily. He knew who it was, who it had to be. Only one person ever came to see him these days. He thought about getting up to open the door himself, but decided against it. He didn’t trust his legs that much. So he worked his numbed tongue around his slightly slack mouth and said, “Door: open,” with as much authority and clarity as he could manage. The door slid open, and Investigator Frost stepped into his cabin. She nodded to Silence, and looked unhurriedly about her as the door closed behind her. Silence didn’t look. He knew the place was a mess. He’d never been particularly tidy, but normally his batman took care of things like that. He hadn’t seen his batman in five days, and he found it faintly surprising just how bad things could get in five days, when you didn’t give a damn anymore.

He did sneak a quick look at himself in the mirror on the wall opposite, and winced, A tall, lean man in his late forties looked back at him, with a pale lined face that could use a shave topped by a distinctly receding hairline. He looked rumpled and badly used, like the unmade bed he was sitting on. His uniform was a disgrace. He’d been sick down it twice, and the left sleeve had never really recovered.

The Investigator, on the other hand, looked utterly immaculate in a tight starched uniform with brightly polished buttons, as though she was just about to step out onto a parade ground. She was tall and lithely muscular, in her late twenties, though her eyes were much older. They were cold and blue, burning fiercely in a pale controlled face topped by auburn hair cropped close to the skull. She wore a gun on her hip, despite shipboard regulations, and a long sword hung down her back. Just standing there at her ease she looked ready and willing to take on a fair-sized army all by herself. And it was a brave man who would have bet on the army. She was handsome rather than pretty, and it was a brave man indeed who’d even smile at her without a direct invitation. In advance, in writing. Frost smiled only when she was killing something. She pulled up a chair, removed and discarded a dirty shirt with thumb and forefinger, and sat down facing
Silence. He raised an eyebrow. Frost was usually impeccably formal even in private.

“What are you doing here, Investigator?” he said tiredly, pleased his voice was still steady, if a little slurred.

Frost sniffed. “I thought we’d agreed you were going to stop drinking.”

“You agreed. I just got tired of arguing.”

“It won’t help, Captain.”

“It can’t hurt, either,” Silence said reasonably. “Things are already as bad as they can get.”

“There’s always the chance they might improve unexpectedly. We have to keep our wits about us, Captain. Be ready to take advantage of any opportunities that might arise.”

“You take advantage, Investigator. I’m too tired, and I really don’t care that much anymore. No matter what happens our mission is still a mess. Civilization is doomed, and my men are still dead. They were good men. They followed me into the Madness Maze because I ordered them to. Because I told them it was safe. And not content with that, I ended up sending the survivors head-to-head with Hadenmen. It would have been kinder to shoot them all in the back. Except, that’s what I did, really.” He sighed, as the familiar guilt and pain washed over him again. He’d lost men before, but never like this. Failed before, but never like this. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Investigator, I have some serious drinking to attend to.”

He looked down at his glass, to give her a chance to leave with dignity, but when he looked up again she was still there, staring at him coldly.

“I can feel your distress,” she said evenly. “No matter where I am. Ever since our experiences on the ghostworld Unseeli, you and I have been … linked, in some strange way. Not quite telepathy, but close. I chose to disregard it, as did you. We didn’t want to be taken for espers. But then we entered the Madness Maze on the Wolfling World, and the link has become stronger. Unavoidable, If I concentrate, I can feel what you’re feeling, sense what you’re thinking. And sometimes it comes whether I concentrate or not. It’s really very annoying. For an Imperial officer, your mind is extremely disorganized. Your feelings are as undisciplined as your thoughts, and my mouth is currently full of the taste of whatever garbage that is you’re drinking. It has to stop.”

“I can’t feel you,” said Silence. “But then I wouldn’t,
would I? You’re an Investigator. You don’t have any feelings.”

“My mind is disciplined,” Frost said calmly. “Unlike yours. Is that why you’re trying so hard to climb into a bottle and drown?”

Silence glared at her. “In case it has escaped your attention, Investigator, the
Dauntless
is carrying us back to inform the Empress that not only was our mission shot to hell, not only is her lover and Warrior Prime dead and cold, but also a major rebellion complete with an army of reawakened augmented men is in the offing. She is not going to be pleased with us. Not at all. If we’re lucky, she’ll just kill us both on the spot. But we haven’t been particularly lucky so far, have we, Investigator?”

“So why are we going back?” said Frost.

The words hung in the air between them, refusing to let Silence ignore them. He looked into his glass, but it had no answer for him. He sighed heavily, and made himself meet the Investigator’s cold blue eyes.

“Because it’s my duty. I may have screwed up everything else in my life, but I still know my duty. The Empress must be warned. I swore an oath upon my honor to serve and protect the Empire to the last drop of my blood, and I still believe in that, irrespective of whoever happens to be sitting on the Iron Throne. The Empire is worth preserving, for all its many faults. All the alternatives are worse; from barbarism and mass starvation on a thousand worlds if the system breaks down, to all kinds of petty dictatorships if the Empress’s authority is broken. The rebellion is a threat to civilization itself. I don’t even want to think of what might happen if those damned AIs on Shub seized the opportunity to attack while we were preoccupied with a rebellion. And what about the aliens? You saw that thing on Unseeli, with its half-living ship. Lionstone must be warned and made to understand the urgency of the threat. She won’t want to believe me, so she’ll order a mind probe; and she’ll believe that. Whether she wants to or not. So I’m going back because I have to. But you don’t have to, Investigator.”

He took a long drink. His throat was dry. Frost shook her head. “I have to go back, too. The Empire trained me to be an Investigator, and I don’t know how to be anything else. And I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. I like being what I am. It’s direct and uncomplicated. But only the Empire has
any use for an Investigator. So I’m going back, and hope that between now and then something happens to get us off the hook.”

“And if nothing does?” said Silence. “If I did run, afterward … would you come with me, Frost?”

“No. I can’t. I have to be what they made me.” She looked at him for a long moment. “I can warn the Empress. It doesn’t need both of us. And it certainly doesn’t make any sense for both of us to die.”

“I can’t do that, Frost. I couldn’t leave you to face the storm alone.”

“I’d leave you, if I could.”

“I know that.” Silence smiled at her and wasn’t bothered that she didn’t smile back. She was an Investigator. And though she was supposed to be nothing more than a cold, calculating killing machine, Silence thought he understood her, even in the things she didn’t—or couldn’t—say. He didn’t need the link for that.

“How’s Stelmach?” he said finally. It was as good a way to change the subject as any. Frost snorted.

“Still sulking, because we had to leave his precious alien pet behind on the Wolfling World. Apparently, he only learned to control the Grendel alien by accident and isn’t at all sure he can re-create his success again with another subject. Still, you can be sure he’s already got some story worked out, to make him look good and us very bad.”

“Undoubtably,” said Silence. “I swear he was closer to that bloody alien than he ever was to anything human. Mind you, if I’d been christened with the name Valiant and only ended up as a Security Officer, I’d be hard to get along with, too. Whatever report he turns in, you can be sure his main motive will be to stab us in the back.”

“Of course. That’s what Security Officers are for.”

“The point being, that he’ll be more interested in looking out for his own interests than in convincing Lionstone of the rebel threat. Just another reason why I have to go back, Dammit.”

“We could always kill him,” said Frost. “Hard to stab anybody in the back from inside a coffin.”

Silence thought about it. “No. It would only complicate things further. He doesn’t know enough to really hurt us. He doesn’t know about the link.”

They’d never told anyone. The link wasn’t esp, as far as
they could tell, but it wouldn’t prevent the Empire treating them as espers, if word ever got out. And espers were second-class citizens, little better than a clone. Certainly it would be the end of their careers as Captain and Investigator. They’d end up as lab animals, specimens to be quarantined, studied, and quite probably vivisected. So they never told anyone.

“Have you heard anything from your daughter recently?” said Frost.

Silence shook his head. His daughter Diana was an esper. She’d been with them when everything went to hell on Unseeli. She’d gone through a lot—enough to break anyone else. But she was his daughter, after all. Diana survived and emerged stronger than she had been before. Strong enough that when they returned to Golgotha from the Unseeli mission, she jumped ship and disappeared into the clone and esper underground. Silence hadn’t seen her since or received any word from her. He was glad of that. He would have hated having to turn her in. Diana was his daughter, his only child, and he loved her deeply; but he knew his duty. Which was probably why she’d had the sense not to contact him.