Deathstalker Coda (38 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Deathstalker Coda
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“But did you ever really love him?”
“I never meant to hurt him,” said Jesamine. “He was a good man, a fine man. He deserved better than what we did to him.”
“I always believed I would tear my own heart out, rather than see Douglas hurt,” said Lewis. “As his Champion, I vowed to stand between him and all harm. He was my friend, closer than a brother. And I hurt him like no one else could.”
“The things we do for love,” Jesamine said tiredly. “How can something so good cause so much pain?”
“Ah, hell,” Lewis said, stretching slowly. “It seems like another life now. We were all different people then. If we do survive this war, all three of us . . . we still couldn’t go back to our old lives, our old roles. We’d find them too restricting, too limited.”
“Now there’s a frightening thought,” said Jesamine. “After all we’ve been through, I’m still me; aren’t I? I still feel like me. And yet . . . I can feel the changes the Maze made in me still working. Both of us are already much more than we used to be. When does the process stop? Does it ever stop? Are we going to end up Terrors, like Hazel? I don’t want to be a monster, Lewis! I don’t want to stop being me!”
Her voice rose, growing harsh and frightened. Lewis was quickly at her side, holding her in his arms. “Hush, hush, love. We’re not going to end up like Hazel. She was left alone, and half crazy. We have each other.”
“But what if we lose each other, Lewis? What if one of us dies in this war, and one of us is left alone, and half crazy? What then?”
“You’re being far too optimistic,” Lewis said dryly. “The odds are that all of us will be killed in the rebellion, and then we’ll never have to worry about any of this.”
“Oh, ho ho ho,” said Jesamine. “Deathstalker humor.”
 
Not all that far away, as hyperspatial travel went, the Emperor Finn’s fleet was approaching the estimated position of the rebel fleet. The Imperial fleet was huge, made up of every fighting ship Finn could spare, all crewed by experienced fleet officers, backed up by hard-core Pure Humanity and Church Militant fanatics. Finn would have liked more of his own people in charge, but this battle was too important to be trusted to the loyal but limited zealots he’d used to infiltrate the fleet command structure. The Imperial fleet’s orders were very simple. Stop the rebel fleet before it got anywhere near Logres, at whatever cost, and crush the rebellion before it got properly under way. No surrender, no prisoners, no quarter. Just dead ships, blazing and tumbling in the long night, and a victory so terrible it would crush the spirits of anyone who even thought of standing against the Emperor Finn.
The rebel fleet had been easy enough to locate. Finn knew Lewis would go home to Virimonde; he’d always been the sentimental sort. And so the Imperial fleet sat and waited, hidden in hyperspace behind state-of-the-art stealth screens, until the signal stopped coming from the transmutation engines around Virimonde. Now the huge army of Imperial starcruisers were moving in on their unsuspecting victims, and readying themselves for battle. The captains were resolute, the crews highly trained and motivated. Finn had put together the biggest concentration of firepower since Lionstone’s time.
All the ships maintained strict comm silence. Ostensibly to maintain the element of surprise, and to prevent rebel spies from passing intelligence, but mainly so that the Imperial crews wouldn’t be exposed to details of Owen Deathstalker’s miraculous return. There were rumors of course, you couldn’t stop rumors, but Finn wasn’t taking any chances. The captains could talk to each other on a heavily protected channel, but that was all. That was enough.
The
Heritage
, still recovering from her encounter with the Terror at Usher II, was now a part of the Imperial fleet. Both ship and crew were in urgent need of some downtime and repair, but . . . duty called. Captain Ariadne Vardalos sat wearily in her command chair, studying the makeup of the Imperial fleet on her viewscreen. As one of the last ships to join the fleet, she had a lot of catching up to do. She wasn’t all that pleased with what she saw. The layout had a distinct air of improvisation. But then, it had been a long long time since anyone had fought a major space battle. She switched to a representation of the rebel fleet’s structure, according to the most recent information, and shook her head slowly.
“I know most of those ships,” she said to her second-in-command, Marcella Fortuna. “I was at the academy with some of their captains! How could so many good people have turned traitor?”
Fortuna shrugged uncomfortably. “Hard to say, Captain. No one ever considers themselves a traitor. We’re all the heroes of our own stories.” She considered the matter for a while, turning it over in her slow, methodical mind. “Must be something to do with Owen’s return. If that was a Shub trick, as the Emperor insists, maybe the AIs brainwashed all those people.”
Captain Vardalos scowled. “I know these people . . . If I could just talk to them, I know I could talk them out of this. Make them see how wrong they are. But we’re forbidden to make contact.” She could feel her hands clenching into impotent fists, and made herself relax. A captain couldn’t afford to appear unsettled or uncertain before her crew. Especially just before a major engagement with the enemy.
“Any point in talking to the admiral again?” said Fortuna.
“No,” Vardalos said reluctantly. “Admiral Shapiro is old school, strictly by the book. He’d shoot his own family if the Emperor ordered it. He wouldn’t even question an order, never mind consider bending one.”
“The rebel fleet would appear to be a lot bigger than we were led to believe,” Fortuna observed. “Though far be it for me to suggest that our intelligence is anything less than perfect.”
“Oh, heaven forfend,” said Vardalos. “And just look at all those craft from Virimonde and Mistworld. I don’t even recognize half of them. God alone knows what they’ll be capable of in a fight. Or what nasty surprises they might have in store for us. Let us all pray very fervently that our stealth fields continue to hide us until the very last second before we attack. Because we’re going to need every advantage we can get. “
“We have to stop the rebel fleet, Captain,” said Fortuna. “And as quickly as possible. The Empire can’t afford to be distracted, with the Terror still on its way.”
“I know that! Why don’t they know that? A civil war is madness, under current conditions!”
“Under any conditions,” murmured Fortuna, with a significant look.
“Of course,” said Vardalos. You never knew who might be listening, these days. And making notes.
“Almost makes you wish Owen was back, so he could deal with the Terror,” said Fortuna.
“Don’t even go there,” said Vardalos. “Matters are complicated enough as they are.”
“But what if . . . what if this battle wipes out both fleets, Captain?” Fortuna said suddenly. “What if there is no winner? Who then will protect homeworld? From aliens, and rebels, and the coming of the Terror?”
“That’s why we have to win,” said Vardalos. “Damn those rebel bastards, for putting us in this position! The rebellion must be put down. For the sake of all Humanity.”
 
Admiral Silence knew the Imperial fleet was on its way. Their stealth fields couldn’t hide them from his Maze-enhanced mind. Dead reckoning and a certain amount of creative thinking gave him a pretty good idea of where the other fleet was, and its composition. He’d shared this knowledge with the rest of his fleet, and was a little dismayed at how quickly they all accepted his word. This legend of his was definitely getting out of control. He had his comm officer send out messages of friendship and offers for truce on all channels, but no one answered. Not even when Silence spoke to them personally, trying to trade on the power of his legend.
“They must be listening,” he said finally, giving up. “Why don’t they believe me?”
“It is rather a lot to ask of them, Admiral,” said Captain Price, who had somehow found a reason to return to the bridge. “Couldn’t you . . . show them that it’s really you? Perform some wonder to prove you really are who you say you are?”
“I don’t do wonders,” said Silence. “What do you want me to do? Stroll across the open space between us and hammer on their door, demanding to be let in? Actually, Carrion probably could have done that. And Owen . . . but I’m just me, and I’ve been a man too long to give up its comforts. Still, the Imperial ships are definitely out there. I can
feel
them . . . some of my old abilities are beginning to surface again. I just know I could stop all this insanity, if I could only talk to them! We’re all navy men. We understand about the madness of politicians. But it seems . . . there’s no way out. Good men and women are going to die today, on both sides. God damn you to Hell, Finn Durandal.”
Price cleared his throat uncertainly. “If you can
feel
the presence of the Imperial fleet, Admiral, perhaps you could work with the ship’s AI to plot out best guess estimates for enemy ship positions and capabilities?”
“Not a bad idea, Captain. Ozymandias! Talk to me.” They waited, but there was no response. Silence called again, but the usually chatty AI was silent. With growing alarm, Silence discovered that the ship’s AI wouldn’t respond to any form of communication, on any level. Basic computer services continued to take care of vital work like life support, artificial gravity and the engines, but all higher intelligence functions were gone. The machines still worked, but no one was home. Silence told his comm officer to check all the other ships in the rebel fleet, and sat scowling in his command chair as the answers came flooding back. There wasn’t a starcruiser in his fleet with a working AI.
“Could it be sabotage?” said Price. “Or some new weapon that Finn’s turned up?”
“No,” Silence said slowly. “I think it’s simpler than that. I think . . . something’s happened to Shub. Every ship’s AI is a subroutine of the AIs of Shub. It’s been that way for so long that we just take it for granted.”
“But what could have happened to them?”
“I don’t know, Captain. But the odds are this is happening in the Imperial fleet too, so we’re equally disadvantaged. I wonder if they’ve noticed yet. Price, get those backup systems on line, fast. We can’t afford to be caught short when the battle starts.”
“Of course, Admiral.” Price hesitated. “Even with all backup systems operating at full capacity, our options will remain distinctly limited. We’ll be going into action crippled.”
“So will they, Captain. Serves us all right for growing too reliant on Shub. Take the command chair for a while, Price. I need to discuss this with the Deathstalker.”
Silence explained the situation to Lewis and Jesamine, striding restlessly up and down their quarters. Lewis tried calling out to Oz through his mental link, but there was no reply. Silence finally ground to a halt, and looked hopefully at Lewis and Jesamine.
“Sorry, Admiral, this is all news to us,” said Jesamine. “Why would Shub abandon us?”
“Could something have happened to them?” said Silence. “If Finn launched an attack on their homeworld, could they be dead?”
“If Finn had ships that powerful, he’d have sent them after us,” said Lewis. “No; the AIs must have gone into the Madness Maze. I knew we should never have left them there alone. All they’ve ever cared about is transcendence. It must have proved too great a temptation.”
“It’s not just the fleet’s AIs,” said Silence. “We’ve been picking up reports from all over the Empire. Everything that Shub had a hand in has stopped working, from air traffic control down to sewer maintenance robots. It’s chaos on every industrialized world.”
“Presumably everything will start working again when they come out,” said Lewis.
“Not necessarily,” said Silence. “It depends
what
comes out of the Maze. Who knows what they’ll evolve into?”
“Could the Maze have destroyed them?” said Jesamine. “Or driven them crazy again?”
“No way of knowing,” said Lewis. “The Maze does what it does, and we never know why. But we can’t allow ourselves to be distracted. We have a battle to fight.”
“Where are your appalling friends?” Silence said suddenly. “The con man and the psycho? No one seems to have seen or heard of them in ages.”
“Probably trying to break into the med dispensers again,” said Jesamine. “Brett always gets a little nervous before . . . well, anything, really. No doubt he and Rose will turn up once the action starts. If only because they hate to miss out on anything.”

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