Deathstalker Coda (50 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Deathstalker Coda
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There was a break in the show, for a series of loud and frankly rather obnoxious ads, and then Woss and Solar were back again. Woss tried halfheartedly to get Solar to give him a piggyback, and fly him around the studio. Solar declined. Woss sniffed loudly.
“Too good for us, eh? Well, don’t get too cocky, or the Terror might come after you with a bloody big butterfly net! Hey, if you’re really part moth, maybe we’d better keep you away from the studio lighting! I don’t think we’re insured for self-immolation!”
The audience howled with laughter, only to break off suddenly as Solar suddenly spread out his wings to their full extent. He rose slowly up into the air, his wings barely moving, until he was looking down at Woss and his audience.
“We came here to tell you that you are not alone. And that you are in danger. But it seems you are determined not to hear our message.”
“Hey,” said Allan Woss. “No one invited you here. And the only place for messages is in the ad breaks. Learn some new tricks, if you want people to pay attention. In the meantime, don’t call us and we won’t call you.”
Hellen turned the television off, and bustled over to comfort Lucifer, who was staring at the floor, his wings wrapped tightly around him.
“Now, now, dear; don’t get upset. No one really cares what Allan Woss has to say. Some of us still remember when he was just a glamor weather boy who couldn’t even pronounce precipitation.”
Owen watched Hellen offer her brisk form of comfort to the Illuminati. He’d seen her kind before, the overprotective kind who’d offer support to a little lost alien in the same way they’d look after some abandoned child or dog. Just because it was the right thing to do. Well meaning, but . . .
“Hellen,” said Owen. “How did you get involved with the Illuminati?”
She looked round and smiled, absently patting Lucifer on the shoulder. “I never got over their being our first alien contact. I waited my whole life to meet a real live alien. I can still see the magic and glamor in them. So I stuck with them, when everyone else just fell away. People should be ashamed! Just because they didn’t come in big ships, with big weapons . . . The Light People are incredible beings!”
“They do make an impact,” Owen agreed. “When I first saw Lucifer coming straight at me, I thought he was an angel.”
“Oh, he is,” said Hellen. “They all are really, the dears. We weren’t worthy of them.”
Owen nodded. He was thinking of what the young boy Giles had said to him, on the border world. That when Hazel appeared to him, she looked like an angel. And there was . . . something, about the Light People that reminded him of Hazel. They were undoubtedly the strange presence he’d sensed from orbit. But they were aliens; why should they remind him of Hazel? And the Madness Maze . . . Was there some unsuspected, abnormal connection between them? He realized Hellen had stopped talking, and was looking at him.
“I know,” she said quietly. “I do go on about them, don’t I? I know . . . I’m not really bright enough to understand or appreciate the Light People, but someone’s got to look after them. And if not me, then who? I keep trying to get them proper interviews, proper attention and respect, but I don’t have the contacts. I’m just a woman who isn’t young anymore, looking for something to fill her time, something worth doing. Truthfully, I suppose I need them as much as they need me. They deserved someone better, someone more connected; but I’m all there is. I just wish . . . I could get people to listen, really listen, to what the Illuminati have to say. But you can’t make people listen when they don’t want to.”
“You could be a great help to me,” said Owen. “I don’t know much about this world, this time. I saw a lot of big ships being assembled in orbit. Tell me what’s happening there.”
“I suppose it all began with New Frontier,” said Hellen. “They were a new movement, as much philosophical as political, inspired by the invention of a working stardrive, some fifteen years ago. For the first time, the stars were within our grasp. That inspired a lot of people. Me included, at the time. New Frontier believes that it’s vitally important for Humanity to get out of the solar system and colonize other worlds. To spread Humanity in a vast, boundless Empire. They say we’ve got too soft and cozy here on Hearth and the other worlds, with robots to do everything for us. That we need to go out into the stars to rediscover our old strength and courage and capabilities. To be truly Human again. We have to go
out there,
they say. It’s our destiny. So, we’re building starships, and soon the bravest and the best of us will be off and out, into the infinite. And then we’ll find out what we’re really made of.”
“How many soldiers are you taking with you?” said Owen. “How big an army?”
Hellen looked at him blankly. “Why should we need an army?”
“Because it’s a bloody dangerous place,
out there,
” said Owen. “Trust me on this; I know. There aren’t that many intelligent species, but there are a hell of a lot of really nasty and vicious creatures, who won’t be at all happy about you people coming along to colonize their worlds. Don’t you people have armies anymore?”
“Well, no, not really,” said Hellen. Her mouth pursed, as though Owen was trying to get her to discuss something that nice people didn’t normally talk about. “We have peacekeepers, to take care of the criminal element, and keep an eye on some of the more extreme groups, like New Frontier. And Hearth First, fanatics who are violently opposed to star travel, and want all the money spent on the Nine Worlds instead. And Defense of Humanity, a small but very loud group, who object to the very idea that aliens can be as intelligent as humans. They don’t even approve of the animals. They keep trying to hold rallies, but the dogs keep chasing them off. We don’t need an army! Not here, or on any of the Nine Worlds. There hasn’t been a war in the Empire in over a hundred years.”
Owen thought about that, and all the things he could say, and then turned to Lucifer. “Tell me your story. Give me your message. I’ll listen.”
And the Illuminati spoke, saying, “In the galaxy next to this one, long and long ago, we built a great civilization, first through control of light and gravitational forces, and later, as our powers grew, by shaping reality itself through a concentrated effort of will, by the gentle urgings of our minds. We were great and mighty in those days, and spread across many worlds, remaking them in our own image. There were cities of light, rivers of gravity, waterfalls of fire and roads of winds. We lived in peace and harmony on thousands of worlds, for millions of years, and were content. Other species arose, but they were never any threat because we could reshape reality, so that any enemy immediately became our friend.”
“Isn’t that rather . . . unethical?” said Owen.
“More so than killing them?” said Lucifer, and Owen had no answer.
“We did not interfere in their destiny,” said Lucifer. “All new intelligent species were left to go their own way, as long as they did not seek to war upon us. They also built civilizations, that rose and fell and rose again while the Illuminati went on, bright and glorious. I saw in your memories, Deathstalker, images of humans with mental powers, called espers. We were what they might someday evolve into. But we had our limitations. We never developed technologies, because we never needed them. So when something came to us, from out of the outer dark, something our reality-changing powers could not affect, we were helpless.
“After millions of years of peace and civilization, the Terror came upon us, an unstoppable destructive force that swept our civilization away like a raging wind. Our cities dissolved, our people went mad and died, and our worlds burned.”
“Hold it,” said Owen. “If your people had the power to change reality by will alone, why didn’t you just stop or change the Terror, the way you dealt with your other enemies?”
“Because the Terror had made itself so real it could not be changed,” said Lucifer. “It was of such a singular nature and purpose, and so very huge and powerful, that even the massed thoughts of our entire race could not slow or stop it. And we had no weapons with which to attack it. The very concept of violence was alien to us. All we could do was abandon our homes and flee from world to world. But wherever we went, the Terror followed, until there were no worlds left to run to. Our whole civilization was gone, with no trace left to show it had ever existed. We turned to other species for help. Some did, some did not. The Terror came for them all anyway. And in the end, all that was left to us was a last, desperate gesture. All the remaining members of our race gathered together on the last remaining world, at the edge of our galaxy, and pooled their power to send some of us out into the void between galaxies, using our knowledge of the hidden ways to travel further and faster than the Terror could match. All those left behind died, so that we might escape, to carry our terrible warning.”
Lucifer stopped talking, and after a moment Owen realized that was all there was. “You few Light People are all that remain of your species?”
“Yes. The last pitiful remnants of a once proud race.”
“Where will you go, when you leave here? Do you have some eventual destination in mind?”
Lucifer shrugged, his great wings rippling slowly. “We always hoped that one day we would reach some safe haven, but . . . even after all the distance we’ve crossed, all the worlds and wondrous species we’ve seen, we’ve never found anywhere that would be safe from the coming of the Terror. So we just keep going, running from the fury that follows us, spreading our warning to all who will listen. Even now, we are only resting here on Hearth, gathering our strength before resuming our flight. We have traveled a very long time, Deathstalker, so long even we no longer remember just how long, and we grow old and tired, our powers depleted. But as soon as we feel strong enough, we will leave here. Because the Terror will come, eventually.
“We did try to warn your people, but Humanity are proud and arrogant, and put their faith in the technology and weapons we lacked.” Lucifer sighed heavily. “You people live such short lives, with such a limited perception of time. You simply cannot conceive of the scale and power of what is coming to destroy you. Our fear is that all the details of our warning will be forgotten by Humanity, in the thousands of years to come.”
“If Humanity won’t listen, why don’t you make them listen?” said Owen. “Change their minds, as you once changed the minds of your enemies. Even just a demonstration of power would be enough to make them take you and your warning more seriously.”
“The Illuminati have fallen far from what they once were,” said Lucifer. “But even so, we would never use force against another species. Such a thought is intolerable to us. What is the point of survival, if to do it you have to give up what makes you what you are? So . . . nothing else is left to us, but to leave. Perhaps we will find a safe place further on . . . in the next galaxy.”
Owen tried to comprehend lives lived across such a vast expanse of time and space, and couldn’t, even after his own travels through time. He found it comforting, that he still had some human limitations. Unlike the thing that had once been Hazel d’Ark. A sudden rush of pity moved him, sorrow for the poor butterfly people crushed beneath the heel of something that could never appreciate the wonders of what it destroyed.
“So,” Owen said to Lucifer, almost angrily. “You’re just going to up and leave? Fly away and abandon Humanity to their fate?”
“What else can we do?” said Lucifer.
Owen was just getting the beginnings of an idea, when armed men burst suddenly out of the tunnel entrance and into the cavern. They wore improvised body armor over gaudy costumes, and opened fire the moment they saw the Light People hanging from the ceiling. They were carrying projectile weapons, and fired recklessly in every direction. Hellen screamed
New Frontier!
While Owen just stood and gaped for a moment, thrown off balance by the rapid fire. A ricocheting round whistled past his head, and he snapped out of his daze. He pushed Hellen up against the nearest wall, and made her crouch down, covering her body with his own. The Illuminati scattered to avoid the raking fire, plunging back and forth across the cavern at dizzying speeds. The newcomers fired their guns endlessly, but didn’t seem able to hit anything. The Light People swooped and soared, and guns turned to follow them. The noise of massed gunfire in such a confined space was deafening, and smoke rolled thickly on the air, swept this way and that by the beating of vast wings. Hellen sobbed loudly, and clutched at Owen like a child.
“What the hell is going on?” he yelled in her ear, but he had to shake her hard before she could talk to him coherently.
“New Frontier enforcers,” she gasped, tears rolling down her face. “They hate the Light People, for making people afraid to go out to the stars. They’ve threatened to kill them all, to prove the superiority of the human spirit. They’re all supposed to have been arrested!”
“Looks like your peacekeepers missed a few,” Owen growled.
The fanatics raked their guns back and forth, trying to follow the sweeping and dodging Illuminati, still not managing to hit anything. But given the sheer number of bullets, and the enclosed space, it was clearly only a matter of time. The Light People couldn’t keep dodging forever.
Owen decided it was time he got involved. He put his mouth next to Hellen’s ear.

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