Deathstalker Coda (22 page)
Authors: Simon R. Green
“I’ll try persuasion first,” said Dominic. “If that doesn’t work, you’re on, Investigator. Try and keep the damage to a minimum.”
“Of course, Defender.”
They entered the unloading bay. It was empty, just a great gleaming cavern of steel with the usual accoutrements. Glory tramped heavily about, checking that everything was as it should be. She wouldn’t put it past deLangford to have somehow booby-trapped the place, but all seemed clear. Dominic bent over the single control console, making sure the airlock was still secure. Owen looked around thoughtfully. He was almost sure he’d heard something. Dominic shook his perfect head unhappily.
“I was worried deLangford’s people might have seized a ship and brought it here, so deLangford could escape in the confusion; but the sensors show only our own ship, still in orbit. Only we can call it down, and both of us would rather die than betray our trust. DeLangford knows that. So what is he planning . . .”
“I’m pretty sure I heard something,” said Owen.
“You did,” said Glory’s harsh buzz. “The prisoners are here.”
The bay doors slammed open, and a mob of howling men surged in. Dozens of mad-eyed prisoners, roaring and shrieking their rage, carrying clubs and sharp-edged tools. Dominic Cairo stepped forward to face them, and those at the front stopped as though they’d run into a brick wall. The crowd behind gathered up, blocking the doorway and holding the rest back. Dominic smiled on the prisoners, and some actually smiled back. The Defender spoke to them, his voice calm and reasonable, asking them to stop and think what they were doing. His manner was so calm, so easy, so rational that some of the mob were already smiling and nodding their heads in agreement. A few actually began to cry, and loudly confess to crimes they’d never even admitted before, like children desperately sad at disappointing a beloved father. And then someone at the back of the crowd lifted an energy gun and fired at Dominic. Owen darted forward impossibly quickly and thrust Dominic out of the way. The energy beam shot on to ricochet harmlessly off Glory’s golden chest.
“Where the hell did they get an energy gun?” howled Dominic.
Glory stepped forward, gun nozzles protruding from her barrel chest. She opened fire, and massed energy beams tore into the mob. Flesh exploded where the energy beams hit, and men were blown apart into gobbets of bloody meat as the guns fired again and again, not pausing to recharge. Glory pressed forward, blasting a hole right through the mob, but still more men pressed forward from the back, their voices irrational with hate and rage. And Glory couldn’t kill them fast enough to stop them all.
Dominic shook off Owen’s supporting hands, and lurched forward to support his partner. He spoke again with his perfect voice, but this time he used harsh ugly words and tones that struck directly at the subconscious, hitting deep-set triggers of shame and fear. Some of the prisoners crashed to the steel floor, collapsing into tears or comas. Dominic’s body pumped out pheromones that acted as mood influencers. He was a Defender of Humanity, and these were his only weapons. He stood his ground, even as another energy beam narrowly missed his head.
Glory and Dominic stood together, each of them fighting in their own way, but the sheer number of rioters overwhelmed them. The prisoners swarmed around Glory, beating on her metal body with their improvised weapons, and Dominic’s perfect face ran with blood. Step by step they were forced to retreat from the doorway and allow more and more of the prisoners into the bay. All of them were laughing the same terrible laugh, eager for blood and slaughter.
And Owen Deathstalker decided enough was enough. He’d given his two new friends every chance to do it themselves, but all their courage and skill clearly wasn’t enough. So he drew his sword and went forward to meet the prisoners. He was quickly in among them, graceful as a dancer, deadly beyond hope or mercy. He cut a bloody path through the howling mob, and none of them could stand against him. They weren’t used to facing cold steel. Owen felt faster and stronger than he ever had before, even when using his Family’s famous Boost. He cut men down with a brutal savagery that shocked even the hardened prisoners. Bodies fell to every side, shrieking their death agonies, and blood splashed the steel walls and pooled thickly on the floor. Owen cut and slashed and hacked, driving the prisoners back. At the end, the last few turned to run, and Owen went after them and cut them down. He slowly lowered his blade, and looked about him, breathing heavily.
One man still stood in the doorway. He carried an energy gun, but he put it down on the steel floor, so he could applaud Owen.
“I didn’t expect you,” he said. “An unexpected pleasure. I am deLangford. Who or what might you be?”
Owen grinned. “I’m the Deathstalker, and that’s all you need to know. Now stay where you are, and put those hands in the air. Don’t do anything sudden, or I’ll whittle you down into a more pleasant person.” He looked back at Glory and Dominic, who had changed back into their previous selves. They were both looking at him with open horror and shock on their faces. Owen felt a little put out, given that he’d just saved their lives. “What’s the problem?”
“Dear God,” said Dominic. “I never saw anything like that in my life. You cut them up like meat! It was . . . hideous. Inhuman! You’re a barbarian! Men don’t act like that!”
“Maybe not in your time,” said Owen. “I was raised to be a warrior, and trained in the hardest school of all. You should be grateful. They would have torn you apart if I hadn’t stopped them.”
“You didn’t have to kill them all!”
“Yes, I did,” said Owen.
“You enjoyed it!” Glory said accusingly. “You smiled and laughed as you butchered those men.”
Owen considered that. “I take a pride in work well done,” he said finally. “And there’s nothing like living when others want you dead to make a man feel good. I don’t glory in their deaths, but I don’t feel guilty about it either. I notice you were happy enough to shoot them from a distance with those terribly efficient guns of yours. That’s no way to kill. It takes real guts to get in close with a blade, to put your life on the line, and depend on your skill and courage to bring you through. Murder should never be cold and impartial. You should always be prepared to pay in blood for the blood you shed.”
“Yes,” said deLangford. “You understand.”
“Shut up, creep,” said Owen. “So, Glory, Dominic—what do we do with him? He’s the cause of all this death, after all.”
“Art,” said deLangford. “I took these worthless men and made them significant. What happened here will be told across the Empire. I made your glorious last stand possible. I took people who never mattered, even to themselves, and made them magnificent, if only for a moment. They are part of a story now, a legend that will be told for centuries. I made your heroism possible. Gave it shape and meaning. You should thank me. I made you art. And now, I surrender.”
“There isn’t a legend that’s worth one man’s death,” said Owen. “Trust me, I know. What do we do with him?”
“He goes back to his cell,” said Glory. “After we’ve searched him very thoroughly. The computers will be back on line anytime now.”
Owen looked at her. “And that’s it? He’s responsible for everyone who died here! You could have died here! How can you be sure he won’t do it again?”
“None of that matters,” said Dominic. “He has surrendered. We can’t punish him now. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Hell with that,” said Owen. He looked at deLangford, and let his anger lash out. DeLangford’s head exploded, showering the surroundings with blood and brains and skull fragments. The body sank slowly to its knees, blood fountaining from the neck, as Glory and Dominic cried out in shock and revulsion. The body fell forward and was still. Owen shook thick drops of blood from the end of his sword and then put it away.
“What kind of future do you come from?” Dominic said shakily. “That can produce creatures like you, and the Mad Mind?”
“I should kill you where you stand,” said Glory. “You’re not fit to live in human society. I should . . .”
“I wouldn’t,” said Owen, and something in his voice stopped them both.
Dominic took Glory by the arm. “This is too big for us. He has to go to court, to stand before the Emperor. Let Ethur decide what’s to be done with him.”
“Actually, I’ll decide what’s to be done with me,” said Owen. “But I want to meet your Emperor. I’m sure there are many things he can tell me about . . . the Mad Mind. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t hurt him.”
“You’ll have to wear the energy gyves,” Glory said flatly. “We can’t risk the Emperor’s safety.”
“If it will make you feel better,” Owen said graciously.
The energy bands crackled about his wrists again, and the Investigator and the Defender both relaxed a little. Glory called down her orbiting ship, while Dominic studied Owen closely. Owen studied Dominic. He was getting the hang of reading body language.
“You love her, don’t you?” he said quietly, nodding at Glory. “Have you ever told her?”
“What? No! I . . .”
“Do it,” said Owen. “Don’t leave it till it’s too late.”
And so the three of them went down to Heartworld, which would one day be called Golgotha and then Logres, in a large and blocky ship that had no name, only a number. Owen didn’t recognize the design at all. It moved smoothly through space, threading its way easily through the heavy traffic, and finally slipped into the planet’s atmosphere with only the slightest of jolts. Owen sat at the back of the cabin, firmly strapped in for his own safety, and amused himself by changing the colors of his energy bands when nobody was looking.
Dominic and Glory spent most of the trip arguing about where they were going and how best to get Owen to the Emperor. They seemed very firmly of the opinion that there were a great many political and religious factions who would just love to get their hands on Owen, for all kinds of reasons, few of them good. And all of them would be quite willing to destroy Owen and anyone with him, rather than let any other group get to him first. Glory in particular seemed very concerned over how much damage some groups would do, if they gained control over Owen and his uncanny abilities.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Owen said cheerfully. “I doubt very much there’s anyone here who can make me do anything I don’t want to do.”
This didn’t seem to reassure Glory or Dominic in the least, so the rest of the trip passed pretty much in silence. Until Glory slowed the ship right down so she could show Owen something. A section of the bulkhead next to Owen became transparent, so he could look out at the planet below. It wasn’t much of a view. In the middle of a desert area lay a great crater, deep and dark, full of twisting gray mists shot through with shifting lights. But just the look of the crater made Owen feel strangely uneasy, disquieted.
“You’re looking at what used to be Angel City,” Glory said coldly. “Now it’s just a hole in the earth, full of quantum instability. Millions of people died here, wiped away by a moment’s anger of the Mad Mind. A wound in the world that will never heal. Most of the people died immediately. They were the lucky ones. Unfortunately, those closest to the edges of the effect were only partially touched. They live on, no longer human, in a place where reality is only a sometime thing. We’ve seen some of them; monsters in shape and spirit. Constantly changing, never solid or confirmed in one nature for more than a few moments. Angel City is a place of horror now, and always will be.”
“We’ve sent in all kinds of rescue operations,” said Dominic. “Scientists and priests, protected by force shields. All volunteers, wanting to help. None of them ever come back. The last I heard, the powers that be were trying to figure out how to enclose the whole area in one big industrial-strength force shield, and then just blast the thing out into space. Where it can be someone else’s problem.”
“Why not just aim it into the sun?” said Owen.
“What if the quantum instability were to affect the sun?” said Glory. “For now, all we can do is put up warning signs, saying
Here Be Monsters
. Post guards to shoot down the poor things that occasionally come crawling up out of the crater. And pray to God that the mess doesn’t start spreading.”
Here Be Monsters
. Post guards to shoot down the poor things that occasionally come crawling up out of the crater. And pray to God that the mess doesn’t start spreading.”
“And this is just one of the nightmares your friend the Mad Mind left us,” said Dominic.
“What one power can do, perhaps another can undo,” said Owen.
He reached out with his mind. He could feel Hazel’s presence permeating the crater, dark and confused, moving restlessly over the wound in the earth, never still. It wasn’t her, just something she’d left behind, and Owen erased it in a moment, like a memory he didn’t want to remember. The gray mists and the shifting lights disappeared like a bad dream, and there was just a great hole in the ground. Owen could sense sparks of life moving in the crater, but they were just people now. He hoped they wouldn’t remember either. He sank back in his seat, exhausted, for the moment.
Dominic and Glory studied their ship’s sensors for some time, arguing loudly over what had just happened below, their voices full of shock and something that might have been awe. Eventually, almost reluctantly, they turned and looked back at Owen.
“How the hell did you do that?” said Dominic. “What kind of power have you got?”
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