Deathstalker Return (28 page)

“I don’t think we’re meant to,” said Lewis. “I think . . . this is something he chose.”

Moon lifted his head, and they all jumped. He took a long, slow breath, and let it out again. He slowly turned his head to look at his visitors, and a fierce golden glow filled his eyes, unnervingly bright in the rosy-tinted light of the engine chamber. A chill ran through Lewis. No one had seen the glowing golden eyes of a Hadenman in centuries; the mark of Cain, in the cyborgs Humanity had created—the augmented men, who became the enemies of Humanity. The butchers of Brahmin, driven by their merciless creed of transformation through technology to pitilessly murder and destroy. They were long gone now, boogeymen to frighten children. But Moon still lived.

“Welcome, Deathstalker,” said Tobias Moon in a harsh buzzing voice. His face had subtly inhuman lines. “If you’ve come to me, you must be in serious trouble.” He took another slow, deep breath. “It’s been a long time since I spoke with a Deathstalker. You’d better have a really good reason for disturbing me. I was happy, in the embrace of the Red Brain. It reminds me of the mass consciousness of the Hadenmen. It was necessary to destroy them, but still I miss the closeness, that intimate connection. The never being alone. The Red Brain and I have joined in symbiosis. It is not the same, but it will do. Together, we regulate and control plant growth and activity, to cooperate with the colonists. They are a part of the ecosystem too, and a part of us. Our children.

“It is a peaceful life, for one who was created to wage war. It is all I ever really wanted. Now you come, Deathstalker, and like your predecessor I have no doubt you bring bad news.” He swiveled his head back and forth experimentally, and his neck made loud cracking and creaking noises. “I don’t inhabit this body much anymore. I live in a larger body, with a larger perspective. But here I am. Because I never could say no to a Deathstalker.”

“You honor me, Sir Moon,” said Lewis. “I wouldn’t have disturbed you if the whole Empire were not at risk . . .”

“It’s always something like that,” said Moon. “Deathstalkers never bother themselves with the smaller things. I know why you’re here. I’m still linked into the Empire’s comm systems. I’ve been updating myself while we’ve been talking. So, the Terror has come at last, the worlds are falling apart, and you have been outlawed. Time plays the same patterns, over and over again. And Owen and I are legends now . . . He wouldn’t have approved. But then, he was always the best of us. I could have been so much more. Grown, and performed miracles, as he did. But I never wanted that. Or perhaps I was afraid to embrace the change and the power, as he did. I don’t think Owen was ever really afraid of anything, except failing those he loved. Still, this is the life I chose, and I have been happy enough, here.”

“We need to talk about Owen, Sir Moon.” Jesamine moved in beside Lewis, cutting off what promised to be a rambling conversation. “Is Owen still alive somewhere? Where should we look for him?”

“I haven’t seen Owen since he left this world,” said Moon in his buzzing, inhuman voice. The golden eyes shone piercingly bright. “Though sometimes, I think I talk with him, in dreams. The link the Maze formed between all of us was a strong one, and I don’t know if even death could break it. A voice came to us, after the defeat of the Recreated, and said that Owen died bravely, saving us all. It was the kind of thing he would do. I know what’s happening in the Empire, Deathstalker. Much has happened since you left Logres. The old King, William, has been arrested for treason. The young King, Douglas, is in the hands of his enemies. You must make a decision: go back and save your friend, or go on and perhaps save the Empire.”

“Lewis, you can’t go back,” Jesamine said immediately. “Not after we’ve come so far.”

“But Douglas . . .”

“Would understand. He can take care of himself.”

“Bound to be a trap waiting for you there,” said Rose. “It’s what I would do.”

“But where can we go, if Owen really is dead?” said Lewis. “And are you sure of that, Sir Moon? I’ve been given reason to believe that he could still be alive, somewhere.”

“He was a great man,” said Moon. “A warrior, yes, but so much more, besides. I still miss him, after all this time. He saved my soul, you know. After the Grendel killed me in the old caverns under Haden, the reborn Hadenmen brought me back to life, but only as one of them. I had access to most of my old memories, but they meant nothing to me—until Owen came, and brought me back into the light, back to myself again. Everything I am, I owe to him.”

“Excuse me?” said Brett, sticking one hand up in the air. “You were dead . . . and then you came back to life again?”

“Yes,” said Moon.

“Just checking,” said Brett.

“What was it like, being dead?” said Rose.

“Restful,” said Moon. “In a way, we all died when we went through the Madness Maze. What came out the other side was something new. We were reborn, remade into new life. Owen’s still out there, somewhere. I believe that. I have to believe that.” He paused, and looked at Lewis again. “Has anyone ever tried to recreate my old people, the Hadenmen?”

“No,” said Lewis. “We don’t believe in cyborgs anymore.”

“Probably just as well,” said Moon. “We were never what the Maze intended.”

“What did the Maze intend?” said Jesamine.

“Go there,” said Tobias Moon. “Go to Haden, go to the Madness Maze, and ask it. Every answer to every question you ever had can be found in the Maze.”

“Shit,” said Brett under his breath to Rose. “Didn’t you just know he was going to say that?”

“We saw the story of Owen’s defense of the mission, at Mission City,” Lewis said abruptly. “It told of Owen doing . . . amazing things. Impossible things. You were there, Sir Moon. Did Owen really do all the things they said he did?”

“Oh, yes,” said Moon. “All of that, and more. He was always the best of us.”

There was something in the way he said that, that told Lewis the audience was over, and Moon had said all he was prepared to say, but still he persisted. There were things he had to say, even though it wasn’t easy being stubborn in the face of those terrible glowing golden eyes.

“Sir Moon, it may be that you are the last living Maze survivor. Even if your . . . abilities never matched Owen’s, you are still a very powerful individual. Come with us. Help us stop the Terror. You have a duty: to us, and the Empire.”

“No,” said Moon. “You don’t need me. You need Owen. Because I have seen the Terror, and I know what it really is. Only Owen can hope to stop it. Go to Haden, Deathstalker. It is your destiny.”

“You know what the Terror is?” said Jesamine. “Tell us!”

“No,” said Moon. “You’re not ready yet.”

Hell with all that,
thought Brett Random. He’d had a bellyful of hints and half answers. He reached out with his mind, and hit Moon’s thoughts with the strongest esp compulsion he could fashion—only to discover that Moon’s mind was a hell of a lot bigger than any human mind had a right to be. It kept growing and unfolding before him, expanding in directions he couldn’t even follow. And above and beyond Moon’s thoughts, there was the Red Brain. The smallest part of it recognized Brett’s small presence, and thrust him back into his own head. Brett cried out in shock and pain, and would have fallen if Rose hadn’t grabbed and steadied him. Lewis and Jesamine looked at him, startled. Saturday fell into an automatic defensive crouch. And as they looked away, Moon’s head slowly lowered itself again, his chin resting on his chest, the golden glare fading from his eyes. The crimson vegetation lining the chamber began to stir ominously. The whole ship began to shake, and the floor lurched under their feet.

“Brett!” said Lewis. “What have you done?”

“Why do you always blame me?”

“Because it’s always your fault!”

“Yell at him later!” said Jesamine, grabbing Lewis’s arm to steady herself. “We have to get out of here! I think this ship’s going back down into the earth again!”

Lewis looked quickly to the narrow tunnel that was their only way out. The fibrous lining was writhing slowly, expanding, sealing off the tunnel inch by inch. And the soft rosy light was slowly going out.

“Saturday!” said Lewis. “You go first. Make us an exit!”

The reptiloid grinned and plowed forward, his great bulk forcing a way through the narrowing tunnel. The others hurried close behind him, Rose hauling Brett along with her. The whole ship was shuddering now, the floor seeming to fall away beneath their feet. Daylight showed up ahead, and they charged down the tunnel and out of the sinking ship. They hit the pink grass running, and didn’t stop till they were on the other side of the clearing. Only then did they turn and look back, just in time to watch the last of that battered wreck, the
Sunstrider II,
disappear back underground as the earth swallowed it up again. The grass waved wildly, the earth closed over the lowering prow, and slowly the clearing grew still again, with nothing to show that anything had ever been there. And then they all jumped out of their skins as a calm voice spoke behind them.

“Your audience is over,” said Hellen Adair. “I trust you found it helpful. It’s time for you to leave Lachrymae Christi. Hope you had a good time, be sure to sign the visitors’ book at the starport, have a safe journey, don’t come back.”

Back on the bridge of the
Hereward,
heading away from Lachrymae Christi at speed, Brett Random was still fuming.

“The bum’s rush! All that guff about how honored they were to meet a Deathstalker, and we end up being booted off the planet!”

“You were the one stupid enough to try to compel someone connected to the mass consciousness of an entire planet,” Rose said calmly. “You’re lucky your brains aren’t dribbling out your ears. All right, ten out of ten for ambition, Brett, but minus several thousand for diplomacy.”

“So,” said Jesamine, reclining elegantly in her chair. “Where do we go now? I don’t know about the rest of you, but after meeting Tobias Moon in the spooky if not downright unnerving flesh, I’m in even less of a hurry to get to Haden than I was before.
We all died in the Maze . . .
Just what I needed to hear.”

“But he did say it was the only place we could find answers,” said Lewis from the pilot’s seat, frowning thoughtfully.

“I still say Mistworld,” Brett said stubbornly. “You want answers, you can buy them there. You can buy anything on Mistworld. Particularly with the cargo we’re carrying.”

“Ah,” said the AI Ozymandias. “While you were gone, I took the liberty of exchanging most of the data crystals for food supplies. We were running very short.”

Brett tugged at his hair with both hands.
“You swapped a small fortune in alien porn for a bunch of fresh fruit?”

“Fruit is very good for you,” said the AI firmly. “I got you some vegetables too, and some preserves. And a case of parsnip wine.”

“Kill me now,” said Brett to Rose. “Put me out of everyone’s misery.”

“If you don’t stop whining, I’ll have Saturday do it,” growled Lewis.

Brett looked at the grinning reptiloid, and shut up.

A blazing light appeared on the bridge like a clap of thunder, and they all cried out in shock. It was too fierce to look at directly, and forced everything else into silhouette. It slowly consolidated, becoming heavier, and there was a growing sense of presence on the bridge, as something from above and beyond the material world drew closer, sinking into the world, becoming solid, becoming real. The light snapped off, and they all stood blinking at a harsh-faced woman with a shock of blond hair.

“Oh, my God,” said Jesamine. “I know you! Lewis, that’s Diana Vertue! I saw holos of her when I was researching my part in
Deathstalker’s Lament,
for last year’s revival tour!”

“Jenny Psycho?” said Lewis. “But she’s dead!”

“Now there’s a name no one’s dared to use to my face in a long time,” said Diana. “And yes, Deathstalker, I am dead.”

“Lot of it going around,” said Brett, hiding behind Rose.

Lewis and Jesamine were on their feet, clinging to each other. Even Rose looked distinctly unsettled. There was something overpowering about Diana Vertue’s presence, as though she was . . .
realer
than everyone else. Saturday had retreated to the rear of the bridge, compelled by his instincts into a submissive posture. Diana smiled coldly upon them all.

“One hundred and eighteen years ago, the Gray Train and the Shatter Freak ambushed and murdered me. I trusted someone I had every reason to believe was my friend, and I walked right into it, alone and far from help. Even so, they were lucky to beat me. I was old and tired, and feeling particularly low that day. Perhaps I wanted to die, and just used them as an excuse. It’s possible. Anyway, my body died that day, torn apart by psionic razorstorms. I never was a Maze alumni, after all; just an esper who got an unexpected boost. My dying mind was picked up by the oversoul, and made a part of it. I exist now as a thought in the great mass mind of the espers. But sometimes I draw on the energies of the oversoul, and manifest in the real world again, for a time—when I’m needed, and no one else will do.”

“Why are you here?” said Lewis, and took a little pride on how steady his voice was, under the circumstances.

“The oversoul has been following your progress ever since you left Logres, through Brett Random.”

“Hey!” said Brett, poking his head past Rose’s shoulder. “I never joined the oversoul!”

“You’re an esper,” said Diana. “We all drink from the same pool.” She looked at Rose. “Sometimes we see you there, too. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Fascinating,” said Lewis. “To what, exactly, do we owe the unnerving pleasure of your company?”

“You must go to Shandrakor,” Diana said implacably. “To the forsaken world. I crash-landed the old Deathstalker Standing there, after the last battle.”

“Yes,” said Lewis. “My father gave me the coordinates.”