Deathstalker Return (45 page)

“I don’t believe this,” said Lewis. “I know some of those people. Good men and women. Hell, I fought beside some of them. How could Finn have turned people like this to his cause?”

“I’ve got to say I’m surprised to see Paragons at all,” said Brett, darting quick looks past the reptiloid’s sheltering bulk. “The files I found in Finn’s computers said he planned to have them all ambushed and taken care of, because he didn’t believe they’d ever come over to his side. What could have happened, while we’ve been away?”

“Never mind that,” snapped Jesamine. “How did they find us? How did they know where to find the castle? Hell, we didn’t even know where we were going until we got here.” She glared at Guide. “Could some of your people have betrayed us?”

“Never!” said Guide. “Any one of us would rather die than betray our promised savior.”

“Screw that!” said Brett, flinching as smoke was driven through the opening by a nearby explosion. “Once a monster, always a monster! Somebody talked! Somebody sold us out!”

“You are wrong,” said Guide. “I’ll provide a distraction. Make good use of it, Deathstalker.”

And before any of them could even think to stop him, he squeezed his long legs through the opening and charged out into the clearing. He darted and dodged among the energy blasts with inhuman speed, defying them to touch him, and then a gravity sled came sweeping in low to target him. Guide ran before it, and then spun round at the last moment, and sprayed thick swatches of webbing from a pulsing orifice in his chest. The sticky threads enveloped the Paragon and his sled, and he quickly lost control of his craft. He was still struggling to keep the sled from nose-diving into the ground when Guide leapt lightly up onto the sled, his eight legs snapping shut around the sled like a trap. The Paragon just had time to look up, and then Guide’s mandibles buried themselves in his skull and ripped the top of the Paragon’s head off.

Three more gravity sleds came sweeping in. They targeted the damaged sled and blew it apart with concentrated disrupter fire. Guide died in the explosion, his long legs still twitching spasmodically as fire consumed the monstrous body.

Lewis and his people hadn’t even had time to get out of the opening. Lewis hammered one fist helplessly against the broken stone.

“Who are those bastards?” said Jesamine.

“It is the Shadow Men,” said Giles’s voice—the castle’s voice—quiet and distant now. “They’ve come again. The Empire’s bully boys.”

“Oh, great,” said Brett. “The castle’s losing it. Does anybody have any ideas?”

“I don’t see Finn out there,” said Lewis. “And I don’t see Emma Steel or Stuart Lennox. Which suggests that Finn wasn’t sure enough of victory here to show up in person, and that he hasn’t turned all the Paragons to his cause yet. There is still hope.”

“That’s kind of long-term hope,” said Brett. “I was hoping for something a little more immediate.”

“Our options would seem to be somewhat limited,” said Lewis. “Either we stay here inside the castle until the shields collapse, and we all die. Or, we go out there and fight them face-to-face, and we all die.”

“Tell me there’s a third alternative,” said Jesamine. “Even a really bad one would do.”

“Well,” said Lewis. “I thought I’d go out there and negotiate.”

“
What?
” said Brett. “What makes you think they’re interested in anything you’ve got to say?”

“Because we’ve been inside the Standing,” said Lewis calmly. “And they don’t know what we might have learned and found there. Finn would want to know those things.”

“But we didn’t find or learn anything useful, really,” said Jesamine.

“Yes, but they don’t know that. You stay put,” said Lewis. “I’m going out.”

“Fine,” said Brett. “You do that. And all of us sane people will stay here and watch you do it from a safe distance.”

“We’re all going out,” Jesamine said sternly.

Rose nodded approvingly. Brett groaned loudly. “Some days I think I’m the only rational person in this group.”

One by one they hauled themselves up and out through the great crack in the wall, and went out into the clearing with their weapons holstered and their hands in the air. The attack cut off. Fires still raged in and around the clearing. From every direction came the screams of creatures dying. Twelve Paragons on gravity sleds came sweeping forwards to look down on the assembled outlaws, all smiling the same unpleasant smile.

“I know you,” Lewis said to one of the Paragons. “It’s Sebastion Oh, isn’t it? We fought alongside each other during the Quantum Inferno. How can you side with Finn? Can’t you see what he is?”

“I’m so sorry, Lewis,” said the Paragon, still smiling his awful smile. “But I’m afraid Sebastion Oh isn’t at home right now. You might say he’s been evicted. I’m the new tenant.”

“Jesus!” said Brett. “It’s an ELF! He’s been possessed by an ELF!”

“Not just an ELF,” said the Paragons, all twelve of them speaking in unison in the same dead voice. “An uber-esper. The Gray Train. At your service, Sir Deathstalker. I live in all these bodies, for now. They make such marvelous weapons.”

“That’s what Finn meant about ambushing the Paragons!” said Brett. “He’s working with the ELFs . . .”

“Not now, Brett,” said Jesamine.

“All the Paragons are our thralls now,” said the Gray Train. “They belong to the uber-espers, and we do such marvelous things in their name. And now it’s your turn, dear Lewis. You and all your little group. Welcome to Hell, Deathstalker; and to all the wonderful, terrible things I’m going to make you do.”

The Gray Train reached out to invade their minds, only to recoil as the Standing’s esp-blocker tech kicked in, protecting Lewis and his people. The Paragons cried out in unison, sharing the uber-esper’s pain. And while they were distracted, Lewis grabbed a grenade from his belt and threw it into their midst. He yelled to his people to hit the ground, and they were all down and covering their heads with their arms as the explosion threw Paragons dead and wounded from their sleds. Lewis was on his feet again in a moment, yelling to his people to get up, and they all opened fire on the surviving Paragons.

“Lewis!” Oz’s voice sounded suddenly in Lewis’s ear. “I’m on my way! The
Hereward
’ll be with you any minute. Hang on!”

“No!” Lewis said immediately. “They’ll blow you apart on sight!”

“Never happen,” the AI said confidently. “This ship’s got really ace shields and stealth capabilities, remember? They’ll never see me until it’s too late. Now hang on in there, and don’t worry! Reinforcements are on the way!”

Lewis realized all the Paragons were dead now, though Rose was still chopping at a few of the bodies with her sword, just to make sure. The attack ships were hovering overhead, confused by the sudden turn of events, but they’d soon start firing again, and Lewis and his people were caught out in the open. And then he gaped in disbelief as an army of monsters came crashing through the burning jungle and into the clearing, surrounding the Deathstalker and his people. They threw themselves into the air and attacked the lower ships, smashing through the steel hulls with their unnatural strength. And from all of them came the same battle cry:
For the Deathstalker!

The Gray Train tried to possess the monsters’ minds, and couldn’t. They were just too different, too altered. The
Hereward
arrived, slipping easily through the attack ships with amazing speed and dexterity. Some of the battle barges, high above, opened fire at last, but the lower ships were in the way. They fired anyway, killing their own people along with the monsters. Lewis and his companions crowded aboard the
Hereward,
and Oz immediately engaged full power and shot up through the smoky sky, heading for orbit. The attack ships turned ponderously slowly to follow. And the computers in the Deathstalker Standing overloaded its power plant, and blew it apart. The ancient castle exploded into a brilliant ball of energy, enveloping and destroying every Imperial ship in the vicinity.

One last service, for Clan Deathstalker.

Finn Durandal was having a busy day, but he couldn’t honestly say he was enjoying himself. In fact, he’d signed all the death warrants he could find, and hadn’t smiled once. Finn sighed, pushed his executive chair back from his ostentatiously antique desk, and swiveled idly back and forth. Who could have predicted that bringing down an Empire would involve so much bloody paperwork? More and more these days, it seemed nobody could be trusted to do what he told them to do, without him peering over their shoulder all the time. Either they didn’t have the guts to do the things that clearly needed to be done, or they were complete religious fanatics who’d never even heard of self-restraint. On the one hand, having an army of enthusiastic bigots at his beck and call enabled him to bring about far more destruction and despair than he could ever have hoped to achieve on his own, but on the other hand . . . there just wasn’t any fun in learning about it secondhand. What was the point in grinding down your enemies and killing off everyone who opposed you, if you couldn’t get a little of their blood on your hands in the process? Finn sniffed loudly, and allowed his lower lip to pout just a bit. He was a man of action, not a paper shuffler. But you don’t get to be dictator over all that lives unless you’re prepared to put in the work, so . . . Finn called in his private secretary, gave him a good glare just to put the wind up him, and then demanded another iced tea and more of the nice muffins. The secretary backed out, bowing all the way, and Finn went back to his paperwork, signing on the dotted line and initialing extra clauses until his wrist ached.

It was well past noon before Finn had caught up with enough of the day’s business that he felt justified in taking a little time for himself. He wasn’t due to put the fear of God into anyone for a good half an hour, so he leaned back in his chair and indulged himself with a few pleasant fantasies about possible future atrocities. He was giving serious thought to having a possessed thrall carry a transmutation bomb into the Dust Plains of Memory. He was pretty sure the nanotech computers had a strong organic element, so a transmutation explosion should do a satisfying amount of damage. Finn didn’t want any major information sources in the Empire that he didn’t control. And if the bomb wasn’t enough . . . well, maybe he could have Daniel Wolfe hauled back from the nanotech planet Zero Zero—if he really was still there, trying to make the rogue planet sane. Should be easy enough to have an ELF possess Daniel, and then march him out onto the Dust Plains, and set nanotech against nanotech. Finn smiled happily, considering the devastation.

He’d actually worked himself into quite a good mood, when Tel Markham arrived and spoiled it all. The honorable member for Madraguda came storming in, brushing aside the protesting private secretary and slamming the door in his face. He headed straight for the visitor’s chair, completely forgetting to bow until Finn reminded him with an icy cough. Tel bobbed his head to Finn in the quickest bow on record, and then sank bonelessly into the visitor’s chair, crossing his legs before him like he owned the place. Finn sank back in his chair and raised a magisterial eyebrow.

“This had better be important, Tel. In fact, it had better be vital, urgent, and downright imperative, or I am going to kick your arse all the way around my office and then halfway back again, just to remind you to knock before bursting in here. I do have an image to maintain, you know.”

“The Shandrakor expedition has turned into a complete balls-up,” Tel said flatly. “Yes, I thought that would get your attention. I’ve just been listening to the first reports from our people there, and they are shitting themselves. One of them was actually crying. All thirteen of the Paragons you sent to Shandrakor are dead. One of our starcruisers was blown apart, and the others all suffered extensive damage. More details are coming in all the time, but I doubt anything will turn up to take the edge off this mess.”

“I see,” said Finn in a dangerously calm voice. “And the Deathstalker and his companions?”

“They located the old Deathstalker Standing, and spent some time inside. They must have found something there, because the whole place woke up in a hurry and attacked our people with a whole range of energy weapons of quite appalling strength and diversity. It then blew itself up, to cover the retreat of Lewis and his people. Their ship vanished into hyperspace while ours were getting the crap kicked out of them, and we have no idea where they might be going next. We did kill a whole bunch of assorted monsters on Shandrakor, if that’s any comfort . . . no, I didn’t think it would be.”

“All my Paragons dead,” murmured Finn. “Such a pity. Now I can’t torture them anymore. Tell me there is some good news, Tel. Or I’m going to kill you.”

“The old Deathstalker Standing is quite definitely destroyed,” Tel said quickly. “Lewis can’t use it as a base of operations now, as his ancestor did.”