Diana Vertue, much to his surprise, had been reported back from the dead and extremely active on Logres. Reborn from the collective consciousness of the oversoul, at long last. Silence wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d known, the moment she reappeared in the material world; like a light suddenly going on in the dark. According to the latest reports, she’d joined up with Douglas Campbell in the Rookery. Typical of his daughter; always had to be right in the middle of things, doing her best in destructive ways. He could have talked to her mentally, but even after all these years they were still awkward with each other. Too much pain and blame between them, too many bad memories. It was enough for him to know that she was back, and doing the right thing in her own appalling ways. He’d talk to her again after they’d taken Logres back from Finn. By then, they should have something in common to talk about.
He could have talked to her while she was still a part of the oversoul mass-mind, but he never had. It would have felt too much like talking to a ghost.
Thoughts of the past turned his mind in a new direction. He’d already tried several times to contact his old friend Carrion, on the planet Unseeli, but there was never any response, on any comm channel. Silence was pretty sure Carrion could hear him; he was just being stubborn. The last time they’d met, Carrion had declared himself utterly divorced from Humanity, and entirely content with his new alien Ashrai form. Silence hadn’t been particularly surprised by the transition. Carrion had always had an Ashrai soul, even when he was still a man called Sean. That’s how they’d ended up on different sides of a war. But Silence decided his need to talk was more important than Carrion’s need to show off his independence, so he reached out with his Maze-enhanced mind, and his thoughts flew across all the many light-years to the planet Unseeli.
Silence had been through the Madness Maze twice. He could have been as great as the others; but he thought it was more important to be human.
Come on, Sean, stop being obstinate and talk to me, or I’ll slap you a good one.
The craggy gargoyle face of an Ashrai appeared suddenly on the main bridge viewscreen, startling the hell out of everyone. Especially the comm officer, who knew for a fact that the signal wasn’t coming in through any of his channels. Several of the bridge crew looked like they wanted to run and hide, but they looked to Silence, and were reassured by his calm manner. The gunnery officer was surreptitiously looking for a target outside the ship, and was getting really upset as she discovered there was nothing at all out there. The Ashrai glowered at Silence.
“Hello, John. I just knew you’d be back to bother me. Your thoughts feel . . . different. But then, we’ve both been through a lot of changes. I’m just more open about mine. What do you want, John?”
“Hello, Sean. Old friend, old enemy. Is there a name for our relationship? Who else could we talk to, about all the things we’ve been through? Who else would understand?”
“Get to the point, old man.”
“I’m in charge of a whole fleet, Sean, and I’m heading back to Logres to ram it down the Emperor’s throat. I thought you and your people might like to tag along.”
“The Ashrai want nothing to do with Humanity. They have not forgotten how you gave the order to make them extinct, all those years ago.”
“Oh, come on, think how good it would feel to stick it to the Empire homeworld, after all these years.”
“There is that,” said Carrion. “Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for your call. Now that Owen is back . . . it’s time for everything to change, again. We all owe him so much.”
“And perhaps a favor for an old friend?”
“Yes, John,” the Ashrai said kindly. “Perhaps.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Silence. “I’ll detail some ships to come and pick you up.”
Carrion laughed harshly, a dark disturbing sound that showed off all his pointed teeth. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll make our own way to you. The Ashrai don’t need ships to fly through space.”
Silence had to smile. “How did we ever defeat you, before?”
“Easy, Captain. You cheated.”
Silence studied the gargoyle face thoughtfully. “Do I have your word that you’ll keep the Ashrai under control, when we get to Logres?”
“Of course, John. Don’t you trust me?”
“Now that’s a bloody silly question.”
They laughed together, and the sound of their laughter had a lot in common.
Captain Price was mooching about in the lower decks of the
Havoc
. He was especially interested in trapping or turning in any of his crew who hadn’t been as ready to change sides as he was, but really since the admiral had made it very clear that he wasn’t welcome on the bridge, Price was just killing time until it came time to do some real work. He studied the latest batch of loyalist graffiti on the steel walls, and couldn’t resist a sneer. It was a bit late to be falling back on Church Militant cant. Anyone with half the brains he was born with could see which way the wind was blowing. The blessed Owen was back, in all his glory. What could petty politics matter, in the face of that? And there was no denying that Price had burned his bridges very thoroughly, when he shot the previous admiral in the back of the head. She’d been one of Finn’s political appointees, and barking mad with it, and absolutely no one had been sorry to see the back of her.
With Admiral Silence all but living in the command seat, Price had busied himself by keeping track of what was happening back on Logres. He and the comm officer, Charlton Vu, had rigged up a very secure link between the
Havoc
and one of the new rogue news sites now operating from the Rookery. Their editorial policy seemed to be, get the story out as fast as possible, and to hell with whoever it upsets. Price had actually talked to the main face of one news site, a charming if somewhat startling young lady called Nina Malapert, and in return for firsthand reports of the return of Owen (
An exclusive!
Nina said, loudly enough to make Price wince), she kept him up to date on the growing rebellion on Logres. She’d even promised to arrange a direct line with King Douglas. Price couldn’t resist a small smile. That should put him in good with Silence. Price was pretty sure the comm channel hadn’t been cracked by Finn’s security people, because it was derived from alien tech, donated by the alien presence in the Rookery.
Price hadn’t even known there was an alien presence in the Rookery. You learned something new every day.
(And of course, if things did start going really badly for the rebel fleet, Price could always hand this information over to the Emperor’s people, as proof that he’d been working as a double agent all along. Price believed in thinking ahead, and covering his back.)
He wandered around the lower decks for a while, but no one wanted to talk to him, and he was actually quite relieved when word came through that Lewis Deathstalker and Jesamine Flowers had finally returned from Virimonde. Price ran all the way to the designated docking bay, to be sure he’d be the first officer to greet them when they returned. People remembered things like that. They were both clearly physically and emotionally exhausted, and all they really wanted to do was get back to their quarters and collapse, but they politely made a little time for Price.
“I have news of King Douglas, and the fight for freedom in the Parade of the Endless,” Captain Price said grandly, and was quietly satisfied at how quickly that grabbed their interest. “I have established a very secure comm link with rebel forces in the Rookery. There is a young lady working a rogue news site there who can give you all the details, if you would like me to arrange something . . .”
“Show us,” said the Deathstalker, and there was something in his voice that made Price forget the rest of his speech and jump to obey. He patched his prearranged link into the viewscreen on the wall, and after being carefully rerouted through several masking connections and cutouts, Nina Malapert’s face appeared on the screen. She saw Lewis and Jesamine staring back at her, and whooped loudly with joy, bobbing excitedly up and down in her chair while her tall pink mohawk flopped crazily from side to side.
“The Deathstalker and the diva!
Major
exclusive! Oh, all the other sites are going to be so sick!”
“If we could just keep the celebrations to a minimum,” said Price, making sure he could be seen standing right next to the Deathstalker, “I don’t think we should test the security of this link with a conversation one minute longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Yes,” said Lewis. “Talk to me, Nina Malapert. What has happened to the city, since my enforced absence? What has happened to Douglas?”
“And Anne Barclay,” said Jesamine.
Nina’s face fell. “You haven’t heard. I’m sorry. Anne Barclay is dead. Killed by falling masonry when Douglas busted out of his show trial and escaped. He was ever so upset about it. But the good news is that Douglas has made himself the leader of all rebel activity in the Rookery, and absolutely everyone is with him! He’s so inspiring. All the rogues, con men, fighters, and criminals have combined into one great army, under his command. They’re calling Douglas the King of Thieves these days, which is just so romantic! Did you want to speak to him? I’m sure I could set up something really quite quickly.”
Lewis and Jesamine looked at each other for a long moment. “Not just yet,” said Jesamine.
“I don’t think any of us would know what to say,” said Lewis. “It’s enough that we’re allies, for the moment.”
“Yes,” said Jesamine. “Just tell him . . . we’ll talk again, when we all meet in the Imperial Palace, on Logres.”
Back in their private quarters, Lewis and Jesamine sat in silence for a long while. They kept a cautious distance between them, separated by old memories and old hurts. The prospect of actually talking to Douglas had opened up feelings they’d been too busy to examine or even acknowledge, for far too long. Once upon a time there had been four good friends, Douglas and Lewis, Jesamine and Anne, bonded together by love and loyalty, determined to change the world for the better. But instead the world had changed them, shattering their fellowship; and now one of them was dead, and things would never be the same again.
“I can’t believe Anne is gone,” Jesamine said finally. “She was always the great survivor. I thought she’d outlast all of us.”
“I still can’t believe she let Finn get to her,” said Lewis. “She was the smartest of all of us; if anyone should have seen through Finn, it should have been her. Why did she turn on us? We all did everything we could for her . . . and she betrayed each of us, in turn. There are even rumors surfacing that she had something to do with Emma Steel’s death.”
“Perhaps . . . Finn listened to her,” said Jesamine. “And perhaps we didn’t listen enough. There were hints, towards the end, that she wasn’t happy, and hadn’t been for some time. That maybe we never understood her half as well as we thought we did.”
“Anne and I were kids together on Virimonde,” said Lewis. “We did everything together. I thought we’d be friends till the day we died. We would have fought for each other, died for each other; and then . . . something changed. Perhaps we grew up. Grew apart. I always believed that when I finally got back to Logres, and overthrew Finn, I’d be able to talk her round. Bring her back to sense and sanity. Apologize for whatever it was I did wrong that drove her away from me. And now I never will.”
“She was the best friend and manager I ever had,” said Jesamine. “But she always made her own choices, and insisted on going her own way. Even when everyone who cared about her could see it was the wrong way. You know, she’s the first person close to me that I’ve lost in this war. I feel . . . cold.”
“I lost my mother and my father, my Family and my home,” said Lewis. “That’s the nature of war: to lose all the things you care for most.”
“We still have each other,” said Jesamine, looking at him for the first time.
“Yes,” said Lewis. He smiled at her, but secretly he was thinking
Deathstalker luck. Always bad.
“When we get back,” said Jesamine, tentatively. “When we’re back on Logres, and it’s all over . . . what are we going to do, Lewis? About Douglas, about us?”
“He was always my closest friend,” said Lewis.
“He was my fiancé.”