Deathstalker Return (20 page)

“I doubt that,” said Finn. “It’s a matter of style, you see.”

“I know everything you’re afraid of, Finn. And you’re afraid of so many things, deep down, aren’t you? Come on, you can admit it to yourself. Admit that you’re afraid that you’re not strong enough and smart enough to do all the things that have to be done. Admit that you worry constantly about being found out. Admit that you’re scared you have no heart . . .”

“I’m not afraid of that,” Finn said calmly. “I glory in it.”

He turned his back on the double, and walked back up the aisle. The others followed him out of the aisle and back round the corner into the steel corridor, leaving the cells and their occupants behind. Finn then stopped and stood still, and thought silently for a long time, and none of the others cared to interrupt him.

“They’re all secure,” he said finally, as much to himself as anyone. “We don’t have to worry about any of them escaping. The Maze knows what it’s doing.”

“Just as well,” said Ramirez. “If any of them weren’t crazy to begin with, they sure as hell are now, after all they’ve endured. But there are security cameras covering the aisle and this corridor twenty-four hours a day, just in case. Not that we have any way of stopping them if they do get out; it’s just to give the rest of us a good running start to get safely offplanet.”

Finn looked at the Shub robot. “You have no ideas on how to penetrate the force screens?”

“Not at present,” said the robot. “Though I feel I should point out that even if we could develop such an ability, I very much doubt we would be able to control or contain the twelve survivors afterwards. They represent a level of power beyond anything we have encountered, apart from Owen and his people.”

Finn was still frowning thoughtfully. “But you do have teleport capability. Could you perhaps teleport items in or out of the cells?”

“We are considering the possibility,” said the robot.

“You never said anything about that to me!” said Dr. Ramirez.

“You never asked,” said the robot.

Finn turned to Dr. Happy. “I’m leaving you here, Doctor. Learn everything that can be learned about the twelve survivors, and then let your mind run wild along its usual appalling paths. Let it run free. I will see to it that you have a completely free hand here, so no experiment should be considered too controversial, too expensive or too dangerous. Think the unthinkable! But, you are forbidden to use any of the scientific staff here as subjects for whatever drugs you develop, on pain of me getting really upset with you. If you reach a stage where you need subjects, I’ll supply them. And Doctor, if Shub does find a way to gain access to the twelve through teleportation, feel free to do any damned thing you like to them. As long as it doesn’t involve any risk of their escaping.”

Dr. Happy nodded, beaming widely. Finn turned to Dr. Ramirez. “I can see the objections rising to your lips, Doctor, but they will do you no good. Parliament has given me complete control over this whole establishment. Mainly because no one else wants it. If you even try to impede the good doctor in any way, I’ll let him have you as a subject. Concentrate on your own work, and all will be well. I shall expect regular reports and updates on everything that happens here. I need to know why these twelve survived, when so many others died. In the meantime, Haden is now officially under full quarantine. I’ll have two starcruisers posted here to ensure you’re protected from outside influences. And if any investigative journalists should manage to sneak their way in here, you have my permission to shoot them on sight.”

He turned to the blue steel robot of Shub. “Teleportation has to be the key. Work on ways to get things into those cells, and indeed, into the bodies of the twelve. But be very careful about taking anything out. I don’t want to risk losing any of our subjects.”

“We shall cherish them,” said the robot. “All that lives is holy.”

“So I’m told,” said Finn.

“What if we can’t learn anything useful from the twelve?” said Dr. Ramirez, just a little sulkily. “After all, my predecessors have been studying them for two hundred years, to little effect.”

Finn considered the question, and then smiled. “The answer would seem to be obvious. I’ll just have to send more people through the Madness Maze, until it produces some survivors you can work with.”

Ramirez looked at him, aghast. “But . . . you’d lose thousands of people! Maybe hundreds of thousands!”

“There’s never any shortage of fools,” said Finn Durandal.

 

 

Some time later, in the House of Parliament on Logres, King Douglas sat in his throne as Speaker, and watched with a dull helpless anger as the members voted to dismantle the regulatory committee he’d set up to monitor the increasingly powerful Transmutation Board. Douglas couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. It was just the latest in a series of moves that proved Parliament was now dominated, if not actually controlled, by outside interests these days. Searching for something, anything, to shore up their ebbing power and influence, the members were desperate for support, and many were almost openly for sale. Or at least, for rent. Douglas had tried to contribute something to the debate, but the outcome was a foregone conclusion, and everyone there knew it. Besides, as Speaker and as King, Douglas’s position was not what it had once been. He was no longer the respected new force on the throne; he had been betrayed, and sidelined, and made irrelevant by the changing new order. Still, everyone remained very polite to him. Because he had been a Paragon, and was still a Campbell, and you never knew . . .

Douglas sat stiffly on his throne, overlooking the House as the members argued loudly over the next proposal, a bill to license and control all espers in the Empire, and especially on Logres. Douglas would have smiled at that, if he’d been in a smiling mood. This was the mice voting to bell the cat. But with public feelings against espers running so hot and high, Parliament had to do something, or at least be seen to be doing something. So: a bill that didn’t have a hope in hell of being enforced, but would look good on the news channels. Douglas sighed heavily. There had to be some members left in the House with guts enough to stand against the tide, and others who might yet be influenced by just the right words; but he had no idea who they might be anymore. He hadn’t realized how dependant he’d become on Anne to brief him, to do all the research and guide him through the treacherous undercurrents of modern politics. She’d known everything, about ideas and trends and people; but now she was gone, and working with the enemy. Douglas was doing his best to catch up on the ground he’d lost during his seclusion, but it was hard going. Particularly when hardly anyone would agree to talk to him anymore, even on the most private and secure of lines. In politics, there was always the fear that defeat might be catching.

Anne worked with Finn now. In fact, since his return from Haden, the two were rarely seen in public apart. Neither of them had much time for Parliament these days, though. The Durandal rarely showed his face in the House, even though he was Imperial Champion, and officially still Douglas’s bodyguard. And Anne only ever made her presence known from the shadows. Perhaps because the House was now such a tamed beast, it was beneath their notice. Douglas pushed the thought aside. He had to concentrate on those matters he could still influence. He made himself listen to the current speaker on the floor of the House. Joseph Wallace, head of the Transmutation Board, was politely thanking the House for its expressed support, and not quite gloating over his future plans, now he didn’t have Douglas’s regulatory committee to hold him back.

Wallace was tall and well-set, with a blandly handsome face set off by golden tracings that followed the lines of his face. They gleamed very prettily, but Douglas thought it made the man look as though someone had painted graffiti on his face while he was asleep. Still, Wallace had good posture and a trained voice, and a commanding presence, in an obvious sort of way.

“I thank this House for the confidence it has placed in me,” he said gravely. “In turn, I commit the Transmutation Board to even greater endeavors. More useless planets shall be transformed, from lifeless worlds to the building blocks of matter. Dross shall become gold; more goods, more food, more weapons for Humanity, in the hour of its greatest need!”

Most of the members stood up and cheered loudly, hoping to be noticed by the news cameras. Douglas made a mental note of the few that didn’t. Wallace was saying all the right things, saying what the public wanted to hear, and it was a brave man who’d stand in the way of something for nothing. Wallace looked about him, smiling smugly.

“And, I can assure this House that the board will take its responsibilities very seriously, when it comes to making dangerous alien planets safe. Transmutation can and will ensure that Humanity never need feel threatened by alien forces again!”

More cheering and applause from the honorable members, but the alien section of the House was noticeably silent. Like Douglas, they hadn’t missed that Wallace had been referring specifically to Humanity all along, and not to the Empire. The treasures to be provided by the Transmutation Board were not for everyone, it seemed. Some species had already stopped sending their representatives to the House, and more and more were leaving as the mood in the House became increasingly openly xenophobic. The Swart Alfair of that enigmatic planet Mog Mor had already declared their world off-limits to all human ships, though their own craft still traveled the Empire, openly defying Pure Humanity to do anything about it. The espers had also withdrawn their representative, even before the esper control bill was mooted. Telepaths and precogs are better than most at telling which way the wind is blowing. The clone representative still held his seat, smiling just a little smugly, and the robot from Shub was always there, though it had little to say these days. No one objected to their presence. Everyone knew they were under Finn Durandal’s protection.

Joseph Wallace finally finished his speech, and left on a wave of triumph. The honorable members waited until they were sure he was gone, and then switched off their smiles and sat down again.

 

 

In a small private room in the warren of offices at the rear of the House, Joseph Wallace talked with Finn Durandal. Wallace was still flushed with his success, and wanted to boast and strut and recount his triumph, but he was finding it hard going under the Durandal’s cold, ironic gaze. Finn sat slumped loosely in his chair, and listened while Wallace strode up and down before him, and the more Finn listened the less Wallace felt like talking. He finally broke off in mid gloat and glared at Finn, gathering his anger to give him strength and pulling old resentments around him like armor. He was a member in high standing in Pure Humanity, after all, and for all his undoubted influence, the Durandal was still only Imperial Champion.

“With the King’s precious committee swept away, I run the Transmutation Board. My word is law now, and no one can say me nay. Planets live or die at my whim. I answer to Pure Humanity and no one else. So you can wipe that look off your face, and forget whatever threats you’ve been rehearsing. Any hold you might have had over me vanished when Rose Constantine ran off and left you high and dry. You can’t bully me anymore. I’m protected.”

Finn smiled easily. “They all say that.”

Wallace drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest. “You can’t threaten Pure Humanity. We are the way of the future!”

“Perhaps,” said Finn. “You’re not the only player in the game.” He rose gracefully to his feet, and Wallace fell back a step in spite of himself. Finn strolled over to the window, and beckoned for Wallace to join him. Wallace did so, reluctantly, and looked down at the street scene below. Everything seemed quiet. People came and went about their business, paying no attention to two of the most important men in the Empire looking down on them. Finn languidly indicated a man standing beside a vid phone booth.

“Do you recognize that gentleman in the rather tacky green cloak, Joseph?”

“Yes,” Wallace said, uncertainly. “That’s Brion Page. My immediate superior in Pure Humanity. I wasn’t aware he had any business at the House today.”

“He doesn’t,” said Finn. “He’s here because I required it of him. Poor Brion proved even more intransigent than you, and he was very rude to me. So now he’s come here, just to provide you with an object lesson.”

He waved cheerfully to the man down in the street, and Brion Page, his mind possessed and controlled by an ELF, smiled cheerfully back and cut his throat with his own dagger. He waved to Wallace as the blood gushed down his chest and he stood there smiling and waving until all the strength had gone out of his body, and then the ELF finally let go of him, and he fell down dead in the street. People were screaming all around him, and already there was the wail of an approaching peacekeeper vehicle.

Wallace fell back from the window, clutching at his tight collar, fighting to get his breath. He could feel sweat running down his face, and pins and needles in his suddenly numb hands. Finn took him companionably by the arm, and steered him into a chair.

“Don’t faint, Joseph,” said Finn. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

“How did you do that?” said Wallace hoarsely. “What in God’s name are you?”

“I am a man with many friends, or at least allies. What you just watched is real power, Joseph. Not political influence, or philosophical rhetoric to sway a crowd or inflame a mob. My power is the only power that matters: control over life and death. No one is safe from me, no matter how highly placed they may think they are. So, do as you’re told, Joseph. Or I’ll replace you with someone who will.”

“What is it you want?” said Wallace. He met Finn’s gaze squarely. He had that much pride left.

“Nothing that should upset you too much, Joseph. Just spread a little dread and suffering, wherever I direct. You touched on it yourself, in your little speech in the House. I want to use the Transmutation Board as a weapon, not just against alien planets, but against any world that dares to stand against us. We can stamp out rebellion at the root, by wiping clean any planet that defies us. I think your first action as head of the board should be to send the transmutation engines to Virimonde. No need to actually do anything, just yet. Just the presence of those huge engines in orbit should be enough to . . . influence their thinking along the right paths. And after Virimonde . . . well, I’ll make you a list of all those worlds whose honorable members seem to be a bit slow to grasp the realities of today’s political situation. It’ll do no harm to remind people of their true place in the order that’s coming.”