Deathstalker Destiny (43 page)

“Damn,” said Ruby. Her voice was thickened by the blood in her mouth. “You’ve killed me, Jack. Always knew ... you were the better fighter.”

“Oh God, Ruby. Why? Why did you do it?”

“Wanted to give you an easy way out. I took a commission, remember? And I never give up on a commission. Once a bounty hunter ...”

“You did it for the money?”

Ruby smiled. Her teeth were slick with a film of blood. “Maybe not just for the money. Didn’t you ever want to know for sure ... which one of us was the best? And then ... you threatened my security. Couldn’t have that. Oh hell, Jack; I don’t know why. Maybe ... because both of us have outlived our legends. We don’t belong in this brave new Empire we helped to make. Maybe I wanted to die ... and was afraid to go on my own.”

“Is that why you didn’t let the Grendels kill me outside Dram’s crypt?”

“That would have been ... a bad death. No honor in it for you, no money for me. And Diana needed you. And me. To save the Empire, one more time.”

“Ruby ... don’t die. We can still have a life together. Heal yourself. You can do it. We’ve both healed worse before.”

“Can’t. Our powers cancel out when we fight each other. Maze saw to that.”

“The fight’s over. I won’t fight you anymore.”

“But I would ... if I healed myself. I’d need to know ... which one of us is best. Can’t fool the Maze. Don’t leave me, Jack.”

“I won’t. I’ll stay right here with you. Let me call Diana. There’s got to be a sick bay left somewhere ...”

“No! You can’t do that. You didn’t ask who wanted you dead, and why. Who paid my commission ...”

“I thought ... Parliament ...”

“Only officially. Blue Block put up the money. A lot of it. They really want you dead. They’re frightened ... of superbeings they can’t control. When the Mater Mundi went conscious, all the espers working for Blue Block threw off their conditioning. Became their own people again. Blue Block paid for me to kill you, after you’d saved the Empire, and then kill Diana Vertue. Blue Block thinks if she dies, Mater Mundi dies with her. Fools.”

She stopped, and coughed up a thick mouthful of dark blood. Random held her while she shuddered again.

“Don’t talk, Ruby. Let me help you.”

“Let me finish, Jack. You don’t know ... Blue Block put their own people on board. Hidden among the volunteers. Don’t know which. If I fail, they’ll kill Diana. There’s a bomb, somewhere. A big one. Big enough to take out the whole damned castle. Suicide troops. If they suspect I’ve failed, and you go to warn Diana, they’ll trigger the bomb. Fools. Leave me here. Go warn Diana.”

“She can wait,” said Random. “I said I wouldn’t leave you.” Blood dribbled from the comers of Ruby’s mouth. Her eyelids were drooping. Random put his mouth close to her ear, to be sure she heard him. “What about us, Ruby? Our loyalty to each other?”

“Loyalty? I’m a bounty hunter, Jack. Loyal to whoever hires me. Only honor I ever had.” Her voice was very small now, like a dreaming child. “I might have been something else, but you made the deal with Blue Block, to save the Families ... I never believed in anything, after that.”

“My fault,” said Random. “All my fault.”

“But I did care for you. In my way.”

“There’s got to be something I can do!”

“Save Diana. Don’t let Blue Block win. You’d better hurry. I got you a good one, with my knife. You’re dying too, Jack.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter.”

“Jack?”

“Yes?”

“I’m tired. Let me rest.”

She closed her eyes, and the breath went out of her, and as easily as that she slipped away from him, even as he held her tightly to him. He sat there for a while, rocking her gently in his arms like a sleeping child. He didn’t cry. He was too tired, and too badly hurt in too many ways, and he just didn’t have a tear left in him. He felt as if he could have sat there forever, but he knew he couldn’t. Diana. He still had to save Diana. He pulled the knife out of Ruby’s unmoving chest. He might need it yet. He let go of her body, and lurched painfully to his feet. He swayed a moment, his thoughts muddled by pain and weakness, but then his old cold will pulled him back together, almost in spite of himself.

He looked at the knife hilt jutting out of his ribs. Couldn’t leave it there. People might notice. If one of the Blue Block people suspected Ruby had tried to kill him and failed ... that he knew about the bomb ... He gritted his teeth and jerked the knife out. Fresh blood coursed down his side, and he almost passed out from the shock. He tucked both knives out of sight, in the tops of his long boots, and pulled his heavy cloak about him. He kept one hidden hand pressed tight against his wound, to stop the blood. No one must know he was hurt. Anyone could be Blue Block. Anyone.

The wound in his side hurt like hell as he headed for the wine cellar door, rising and falling in rhythm to his steps. It slowly occurred to him that he could heal himself now. With Ruby dead, they weren’t in opposition anymore. In fact, he was surprised the healing process hadn’t already kicked in. But when he tried to reach out with his mind, there was nothing there. His powers were gone, like a face or a name he couldn’t remember. He was on his own.

He swore unemotionally. He still had to get to Diana. Warn her. Everything else could wait, till later. He left the cellar, carefully locking the door behind him. His fingers felt numb and unresponsive. His feet felt cold, and very far away. He looked around him, but he was alone in the corridor. He tried to think how far it was to the great Hall, and Diana, and was shocked at how muddy his thoughts were becoming. The wound must be worse than he might.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Blood filled his mouth for a moment, and he had to spit hard to clear it, but the sudden sharp pain cleared his head. He straightened up, pulled back his shoulders, made sure his cloak was held tightly about him, and set off down the corridor, walking perfectly normally. His face was calm, his eyes clear, as though there was nothing wrong. Nothing in the world.

One corridor looked much like another, but he knew where he was going now, and his feet never faltered. He passed people along the way, hurrying back and forth on no doubt important missions, all luckily too busy to stop and chat. The castle was in a bad way, and its ailing life support systems needed a lot of attention. These people smiled and nodded to Jack Random, and he smiled and nodded in return. He worked hard at appearing perfectly normal, and on the few occasions when he was obliged to pass a few words with someone, his voice was perfectly even. None of them ever knew what it cost him. How he fought back the growing pain that ate away at him, as though Ruby’s knife were stabbing him over and over again, determined to complete its deadly purpose. He’d lost all feeling in his hands now, but his arm and his will still kept the dead hand clamped over his hidden wound. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, while the endless corridors came and went like the gray streets we walk in nightmares.

He finally entered the great Hall, and shut the heavy door behind him with an effort that brought beads of cold sweat to his brow. Diana glanced around from the information scrolling across her viewscreen. “Oh, hello, Jack. I’m rather busy at the moment ...”

“This can’t wait,” Random said flatly. His voice was harsh, and grating. “We have traitors on board. Blue Block wants you dead. There’s a bomb. Could be anywhere in the castle. They even suspect you know, they’ll set it off.”

“Typical bloody Blue Block.” Diana hit the hold on her viewscreen. “All right; let me concentrate.” She frowned, and Random could feel her mind reaching out, spreading her thoughts over what remained of the castle, seeing everything. “Ah. Yes. Got it. They hid it well. Damn; it’s a hell of a size. Big enough to take out the whole castle even when it was still intact. They really weren’t taking any chances. I suppose I should be flattered.”

“Tell me where it is,” said Random. “I’ll defuse it.”

“No need. I’ve already shut it down. It’s harmless now. You couldn’t set it off now if you stuck a grenade up its ass. And I’ve detected all the traitors onboard, and shut them down mentally. I’m really going to have to do something about Blue Block, when I get back. One more problem to add to the list. It’s just one damned thing after another these days, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Random. “It is. If you don’t need me anymore ...”

“Oh, I don’t think so.
I can cope. You go get some rest. Was there ... something else, Jack? You look troubled.”

“No,” said Random. “You seem to have things well in hand. You’re right. I need some rest. Good-bye, Diana.”

He left the great Hall, and went back into the stone corridors. Diana hadn’t needed his help after all. Diffused the damn bomb with just a thought, and took out the traitors. Probably wouldn’t have needed his warning, either. More and more it seemed to him that Jack Random, the legendary professional rebel, had become superfluous. His way of doing things wasn’t needed anymore. In the end, the rogue AIs had been defeated without any need of his warrior’s skills. Diana Vertue had saved the day. He’d just been along for the ride.

Ruby had been right. He’d outlived his own legend.

And it was only then that he realized why the wound in his side wasn’t healing; he had chosen to die. To put down his burden, and rest at last. Ruby was dead, and he wasn’t needed anymore, so why go on. The Empire had changed beyond his ability to recognize, or be a part of. He’d tried going back to the old ways, forcing things to make sense with sword and gun, but that hadn’t worked either. You couldn’t just kill all the people who disagreed with you. He knew now that he’d just been trying to recreate the simplicity of purpose of his old days, when life itself had seemed simpler. Good or bad, fight or die. Bottom line was, the Empire didn’t need a professional rebel anymore.

There was still the matter of the Recreated, but Random couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. Diana would probably just give them another telepathic hug, and that would be that He’d fought for so very long, tried always to do the right thing, but he was very tired now, and he’d earned the right to rest. It was time to rest. Time to die.

He made his way slowly back through the corridors, back to the wine cellar, to be with Ruby one last time. Let the superbeings take over. Owen and Hazel, Diana and the Mater Mundi. He’d never wanted to be a superbeing anyway. He’d dedicated his life to overthrowing the Iron Throne, been given a second chance he hadn’t deserved, and lived long enough to see it happen. That was enough. He was walking slowly now, his strength seeping out of him along with the blood running down his side. He smiled and nodded to the people he passed. They mustn’t know. There was always the chance Diana’s people might try to help him, save him, and he didn’t want that. It was time to let go.

He could hear his own heartbeat now, loud in his ears, like the slow drumbeat at a funeral. He could barely feel his legs, but he kept himself upright and moving through sheer willpower. He had chosen to die, and he had chosen where, and he would not be denied that last dignity by the weakness of his own body. He walked on, his head dropping slowly lower with every step, the blood running more thickly now, like the last wine from the bottom of the barrel. But it seemed to him that he wasn’t walking alone anymore. There were ghosts in the corridor now, old familiar faces. Alexander Storm came and walked with him for a while, and his old friend was young and handsome again, and they forgave each other everything. Then Storm was gone, replaced by Young Jack Random, with his flashing smile.
I was always better at being you than you were,
said the Fury. Random snarled at him, and left him behind. His various wives nodded at him from doorways he passed. He should have made more time for them, but then, he’d always known they married the legend, and not the man. And finally Owen Deathstalker came and walked beside him.
We should have died in the rebellion, Jack. At least our deaths would have had some meaning then.

When Jack Random came at last to the wine cellar door, he was alone. He’d said all his good-byes, except to the one person that mattered. He unlocked the door, let himself in, and closed the door behind him. The last time he’d ever do such a thing. Ruby Journey still lay dead on the floor. Jack leaned back against the door.
Hi honey, I’m home,
he said, or thought he said. And then the last of his strength went out of him, and he fell forward onto the cold stone floor. He felt the impact, but it didn’t hurt him.
Ruby. You won’t have to go into the dark on your own. I’m here.
He crawled slowly forward, leaving a trail of blood behind him on the cold stone. When he was almost there, he reached out to take her hand in his, but he died before their fingers could touch.

CHAPTER SIX

Wedding days are supposed to be important. A man and a woman, joining their lives together, to love, honor, and worship each other’s body till their breath runs out or the stars go cold. Weddings are supposed to be days of celebration, of ancient and important oaths freely entered into, that will change two lives forever. Till death or divorce do them part. How much more important then, a wedding between a man and a woman who were that very day to be also crowned King and Queen of the Empire, constitutional monarchs for billions of men and women, on thousands of worlds. (Parliament had decided against an Emperor and Empress. It was felt by all that the old titles suggested too much power.) The dual wedding and investiture was going to be the biggest ceremony the Empire had ever seen. The bride and groom got no say in the matter. As always, private romance had to take a backseat to public politics.

Golgotha went loudly and ostentatiously crazy as the countdown to the wedding hit the last few hours. Everyone who was anyone would be attending the ceremony in person, and holo coverage would be transmitted live to every planet in the Empire. Street parties choked the thoroughfares, as all but the most essential occupations were shut down for the day, as a mark of respect. Everyone wished the couple-to-be well. Robert Campbell and Constance Wolfe’s faces were everywhere, from all the various news media to all kinds of merchandising. Not all of it particularly tasteful, or even authorized, but it just showed how everyone wanted to get involved. Presents for the happy couple had been arriving from all over the Empire for months. They were currently being stacked and guarded in three separate warehouses, after being carefully checked for bombs or booby traps. Because there were always a few spoilsports.