Deathstalker Legacy (5 page)

(It said so on his website, so it must be true.)

He was the best at everything he did, because he wouldn’t settle for anything less. It helped that he had the best weapons, the best trainers, and the best muscles and reflexes that money could buy. Finn left absolutely nothing to chance.

“Immaculately turned out, as always, Finn,” said Douglas. “I can practically see my face in your breastplate. Why can’t you look more like him, Lewis?”

“Because I can’t afford a butler,” said Lewis. “Hell, I’m lucky if I remember to shine my shoes in the morning.”

“You’re just jealous of my magnificence,” said Finn. “Puny mortal.”

“I prefer modesty,” said Lewis.

“And you have so much to be modest about,” said Finn.

“Girls, girls . . .” said Douglas.

“Unfortunately,” said Finn, “we don’t have time for banter right now. I’m sorry to snatch your associate away, Douglas, but I’m here on official Paragon business. We’re needed, Lewis. An emergency has broken out at the Arenas.”

“Oh, wonderful,” said Douglas. “Marvelous bloody timing. What is it; one of their imported killer aliens broken loose again? I told them they were asking for trouble, bringing those monsters in from Shandrakor.”

“The Arena’s got tanglefields and sleepgas,” said Lewis. “Let Arena security deal with it.”

“It’s not that simple,” said Finn. “It’s the ELFs.”

“Oh,
shit
,” said Lewis. “I’ll have to go, Douglas.”

“Of course you do,” said Douglas. “Why
now,
of all times?”

“I doubt it’s a coincidence,” Finn said calmly. “More likely they’re looking to get in one last atrocity before the majority of the Circle arrive and the ELFs are forced to go underground with the rest of the rats. And perhaps; as a gesture to you, Douglas, to show you they’re not impressed or intimidated by a Paragon becoming King.”

“For two pins, I’d go with you,” said Douglas. “Hell, I’m still officially a Paragon till the Crown hits my head. Dammit, I am going with you! Come on; we’ll teach the ELFs one last lesson they won’t forget!”

“You’re not going anywhere!” snapped a cold, commanding voice, and all three Paragons looked sharply round, and then bowed formally as King William slowly descended the steps from the Throne. He nodded to Finn and Lewis and then glared at Douglas, who glared right back, his hands knotted into fists at his sides. William met his son’s gaze steadily, and in the end, it was Douglas who looked away first.

“I know,” he said sourly. “More rehearsals. More ceremony and protocol.”

“You’re not a Paragon anymore,” King William said, not unkindly. “That part of your life is over. Let the Deathstalker and the Durandal handle it. They know what they’re doing.”

“Don’t worry, Douglas,” said Finn. “It’s only a bunch of ELFs, after all.”

He nodded briskly to Lewis, and the two of them strode quickly away, heading out of the Court and into danger and excitement, their backs straight and their heads held high. They were going out to face some of the most dangerous creatures currently threatening Humanity, to face horror and suffering and sudden death, but they didn’t hesitate. They might have been going to a party, they were so casual about it. They were Paragons.

And Douglas would have given everything he owned to be going with them.

“Wipe that look off your face, young man,” said King William. “You have greater responsibilities now. I do . . . understand the attraction. But you’ll find that if you apply yourself, you can do far more for your people as King than you ever could as a Paragon. There’s more to power over people’s lives than the edge of a sword.”

“Yes, Father,” said Douglas.

King William sighed. “You always did have a way of agreeing with me that sounded just like
Go to Hell.
Got that from your mother. Speaking of which . . . we need to talk, Douglas. I’ll admit I’ve been putting this off, searching for just the right moment, but I can’t in good faith keep this from you any longer.”

“You’re not about to tell me I’m adopted, are you?”

“No.”

“Or a clone?”

“
Shut up,
Douglas. There is . . . a part of the Ceremony we haven’t discussed yet. An extra announcement that will be made concerning a decision that has been made by myself and Parliament. A decision in which you don’t get a say. It’s unfair, bordering on arbitrary, but it comes with the job. I can only hope that you are, despite all my misgivings, mature enough to understand its necessity.”

“Father,” Douglas said desperately, “stop wittering. What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re going to be married. A marriage has been arranged for you.”

“A King must have a Queen,” William said stubbornly, meeting his son’s gaze steadily. “And since these are two of the most important jobs in the Empire, they can’t be left to just anybody. To the vagaries of the heart. And so, a marriage has been arranged, by myself and a Parliamentary committee, between you and . . . a suitable person. This will be announced to the watching public, immediately after your Coronation. And you will nod and smile and go along with it, because you have no choice in the matter. Any more than I did.”

“You kept this quiet,” said Douglas darkly. “Very bloody quiet.”

“And this is why,” said William. “Because we all knew you’d have made a scene, given a chance. Discussions were held in strictest secrecy, because we knew you’d object. Or worse still, demand to be involved. I still remember that highly unfortunate affair you had with that . . . exotic dancer. Appalling creature. Never did know what you saw in her.”

“She could put her ankles behind her ears . . .”

“I don’t want to know!” William had to stop a moment to regain his composure. “I knew this would happen. Your brother was just the same. Threw a hell of a tantrum when we sat him down and told him who his Queen was going to be.”

Douglas looked at his father sharply. Perfect James, throwing a temper tantrum? He would have liked to ask more, but the King was pressing on.

“Since we couldn’t afford to have you making trouble, it was decided that I would break the news to you, at the last possible moment. And this would appear to be it. I wish your mother was here; she was always so much better at these things than me. And don’t even think about running; I’ve got security men standing by with tanglefields and cattle prods, just in case. Joke.”

“You’ll pardon me if I don’t laugh,” said Douglas. “I can’t believe you did all this behind my back. I always thought marriage was supposed to be the most important decision in a man’s life.”

“In your case, it is,” said William. “Far too important to be left to you. Royal marriages are affairs of State, not of the heart. Though it needn’t stay that way. I learned to love your mother, eventually. I’m sure you’ll come to love your Queen too, in time.”

“Are you at least going to tell me who it is?” said Douglas, so far into shock now he was practically numb. “Or is it going to be a surprise?”

“Of course not, dear boy. You needn’t look so disturbed. Nothing but the best for the man who will be King, after all. If I was only fifty years younger I’d chase her round the room a few times myself. The hunchback suits her. Joke! She’s beautiful, intelligent, and she’ll make a superb Queen. Your bride will be Jesamine Flowers. You have heard of her?”

Douglas felt his jaw drop, and it took him several moments to get enough air back into his lungs to be able to answer. “
Heard of her?
Jesamine bloody Flowers? She’s the most famous, the most talented diva in the whole damned Empire! And the single most glamorous woman in all the civilized worlds! Hell, Jesamine’s already so popular she already is Queen, in everything but name. And this goddess has agreed to marry
me
?”

“Of course,” said William. “Looked at logically, it’s the obvious next career move for her. She’s reached the pinnacle of her profession, played all the biggest roles on all the biggest stages. Made more money than she knows what to do with, and she couldn’t be any more famous if she tried. She is the biggest sensation in the Empire today. But where else can she go? If she continues as she is, she’ll just end up repeating herself, or worse still, squandering her talents on roles unworthy of her. When you’ve reached the top of your profession, the only place left to go is down. The only way for her to become even more fabulous is to move out of art and into politics. There’s nothing like the adulation of the masses to give you a taste for power over them. She could become a Member of Parliament, of course, but I think she’d see that as a step down. But to be Queen; to sit in State over the greatest Empire Humanity has ever known . . .”

Douglas looked sardonically at his father. “Are you going to give her the bad news, or is that my job, after we’re married? Power my arse. She’ll scream the place down, once she learns the truth. And God alone knows what kind of scream an opera singer can produce when she really puts her mind to it.”

“The role of King and Queen are something the two of you will have to work out with Parliament,” said William. “I personally plan to be thoroughly retired, and deep in hiding, when the explosions begin. Now do smarten yourself up, Douglas. Make an effort. Jesamine Flowers will be here very soon, and you do want to make a good first impression, don’t you?”

 

Out over the city, flying high above the Parade of the Endless on their own personalized gravity sleds, Lewis Deathstalker and Finn Durandal raced soundlessly over brightly shining towers linked by delicate bridges, massive globes and pyramids shimmering with lights, minarets, and monoliths, all currently blessed with an unmarked layer of snow. The planet’s weather satellites had been programmed to provide the city with traditional Christmas weather, in honor of the great Ceremony. It all looked pretty enough, the clear white snow under the late afternoon sun, but winter weather was no fun at all when you had to fly through it at speed. Snow and ice produce bracing, if not downright bitter, winds, and the freezing air cut at the Paragons like knives as they shot through it on their way to the Arenas. Lewis and Finn crouched down behind the force shields that protected the front of their sleds, huddled inside their cloaks, and hunched their shoulders against the growing cold that gnawed at their bones. They could have slowed down, made it easier on themselves, but this was an emergency. People were in trouble. And, although neither Finn nor Lewis would ever have admitted it, even to themselves, neither of them would have given in first.

The Arena was set square in the middle of the city, just as it had always been, a huge stone colosseum surrounding blood-soaked sands. The structure had been expanded several times over the last two centuries, but there was still a long waiting list for even the poorest seats, and the right to certain prime locations were jealously guarded and handed down only within the family. Everyone watched the holo broadcasts, of course, but everyone knew it wasn’t the same as being there in person. These days, it was strictly volunteers only; and every would-be gladiator had to undergo a strict psychological profile before he or she was allowed out onto the bloody sands. And the current high levels of medical care meant that very few people actually died and stayed dead in the Arenas. But it was still all about courage and honor and skill, and putting them all on the line for the pleasure of the crowds. The Arenas had never been more popular. The Board of Directors had put on a special bill for Christmas and the Coronation, involving all the main champions, several tag teams, and a whole load of vicious and dangerous nonsentient aliens imported from all across the Empire. The crowd was the biggest ever, standing in the aisles shoulder to shoulder. The greatest show on Logres.

And then the ELFs came.

The ELFs. In the time of the blessed Owen Deathstalker, the espers discovered that they had been secretly manipulated by the needs and desires of their own subconscious gestalt mind; the Mater Mundi. Diana Vertue exposed this, and all the espers in the Empire joined together in a single great
conscious
gestalt, and took control of their own destiny for the first time. They called this mass-mind the oversoul. Millions of minds, working together, achieving miracles, never to be alone again.

But some esper minds were too disturbed, or damaged, to remain a part of the gestalt. Their madness threatened the whole, and so they had to be expelled from the oversoul. Other minds removed themselves from the gestalt, fearing the loss of their individuality, afraid of domination by a conscious Mater Mundi. And some had secrets and shames and desires they would not share with anyone, turned their faces away, and hid in the shadows.

These were the new ELFs; the Esper Liberation Force. Dedicated to liberating themselves from the tyranny of the oversoul. Banding together, seeing all others as enemies, the ELFs declared themselves clearly superior to the ungifted members of the human race and therefore destined to first rule and then replace baseline Humanity. They said the oversoul was mad and had to be destroyed. And since everyone was the enemy; any ELF attack, no matter how vicious, was really nothing more than self-defense. No one knew exactly how many ELFs there were. They struck from the shadows without warning, hurting the world before it could hurt them, exulting in the punishing of those who would hold them back from their rightful destiny.

That’s what everybody knows. But there were rumors . . . dark, ugly rumors.

Some said the ELFs were led by the last of the super-espers: mental freaks and monsters created on the secret order of the Mater Mundi. Mad minds, terrible creatures artificially evolved far beyond, or behind, Humanity. So secret that only their names or designations were known, grim and sinister titles from a terrible past.
The Shatter Freak. Blue Hellfire. Screaming Silence. The Gray Train. The Spider Harps.

No one knew for sure. Or if they did; they were too scared to talk.