Deathstalker (68 page)

“The Wolfling has been talking to my computers,” said Giles. “And they have been talking to me. He’s waiting to talk to us. Let’s all be very polite, and perhaps he won’t kill us.”

“He could try,” said Ruby.

“What do we need him for?” said Moon.

“I told you: he guards the Madness Maze.”

“And what’s that when it’s at home?” said Hazel. “Something the Haden scientists came up with?”

“Oh, no, my dear. It’s much older than that. There’s nothing human about the Madness Maze. It was here long before humanity ever came to this world. The Empire colonists discovered it, deep within the planet, but they never did discover what it was. The Haden scientists deduced its function, but they had more important matters on their minds, the fools.”

“All right,” said Owen. “I’ll bite. What is the purpose of the Madness Maze?”

“Evolution,” said Giles. “And I am the only one ever to make use of its secrets. Now let’s go down and say hello to the Wolfling. By the way, a word to the wise. He is currently under the misapprehension that we have a whole army of rebels on board this ship. Let’s not disillusion him. You never know when you might need to run a bluff.”

“How do we get down there?” said Moon. His harsh, buzzing voice sounded as calm as it ever did, but his blazing golden eyes never once looked away from the planet on the viewscreen. “Do you have any pinnaces or shuttlecraft on this floating anachronism?”

“As it happens, yes, but we can’t use them. There’s no way to reach the Maze or the Tomb of the Hadenmen from the surface anymore. What remains of the atmosphere has frozen solid. We’ll teleport down. I left a portal close to the Maze the last time I was here. According to the Standing’s instruments, it’s still functioning. We built things to last in my day. When we weren’t busy destroying them. If you’d all care to prepare yourselves as you see fit, we can go as soon as you’re ready. Feel free to help yourselves to anything that catches your interest in the armory, but don’t take too long about it. The Standing’s power sources were nearly depleted when I came to Shandrakor, all those centuries ago, and most of what was left was used up maintaining the Standing. Until I have the opportunity to recharge the power cells, this ship isn’t going anywhere. We’re in no immediate danger, but unless you like the idea of being stranded on a world whose only points of interest are an alien Maze and a large Tomb, I suggest we all hurry.”

Owen and Hazel made their way down to the armory, where an empty suit of armor with a missing helm politely opened the door for them. Owen regarded it suspiciously. He
didn’t remember it being there the last time he’d visited. Hazel ignored the armor and made straight for the more impressive-looking projectile weapons. Owen watched amusedly as she loaded herself down with guns and bandoliers of ammunition. He settled for a nasty-looking handgun that used big, bulky bullets and a few grenades to fill his pockets. No doubt they’d come in handy, but on the whole he still thought he’d stick with the weapons he was used to. Guns were all very well, but in his experience, in the end it always came down to cold steel, and the man wielding it. Besides, at the rate Hazel was accumulating guns, they’d have to move her around on a trolley. She continued rooting through the rifle racks, unaware of his growing amusement, and finally came up with a gun so long and heavy it took all her strength just to lift and aim it.

“Good choice,” said Owen solemnly. “When you run out of ammunition, you can use it to club the enemy to death.”

Hazel sniffed and reluctantly put the rifle back. She looked at her collection of guns and grinned suddenly at Owen.

“Come a long way, haven’t we, aristo? From a not particularly successful pirate and an outlawed Lord running for his life to the leaders of a new rebellion. Who’d have thought it?”

“We’re only potentially a rebellion,” said Owen. “It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than the six of us to drag Lionstone off the Iron Throne. Jack Random’s been fighting the Empire all his life, and you saw what it’s done to him. All right, if we can awaken the Hadenmen, and if we can persuade them to fight on our side, then we might be in with a chance. All kinds of people might rally to our banner if they thought we already had an army. But I’m not at all happy about placing any trust in Hadenmen. Who’s to say they wouldn’t be following their own, hidden, agenda? They killed a lot of innocent people in their last attempt at a rebellion. The only reason they’re not still officially designated the Enemies of Humanity is because the AIs on Shub are even nastier than the Hadenmen were. And that took some doing.”

“You worry too much,” said Hazel. “The Hadenmen will behave themselves as long as we’ve got control of the Darkvoid Device. You know, these are really great guns.
I’ve been studying their specifics in the computers. They aren’t worth spit against force shields, bu they’ll chew up anything else you aim them at. Apparently there’s something called a recoil we’ll have to get used to, but no doubt we’ll soon get the hang of it.”

“Until we run out of ammunition,” said Owen. “We can’t just run back to the castle for more in the middle of a firefight. With a disrupter, you can recharge the energy crystals at any handy power source, and you’re ready to go again.”

“You always have to see the bad side of things, don’t you? The point is, the Empire won’t be expecting guns like these, and by the time they’ve worked out an effective response, we’ll have kicked six different colors of shit out of them.”

Owen frowned. “You really think the Empire is going to follow us here? Into the Darkvoid?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Owen unhappily. “They’ve been right behind us all the way. There’s only one answer that makes any sense. We have a traitor in our group.”

“Not necessarily,” said Hazel. “Someone could have planted a homing device on us.”

“No. One or another of our security systems would have found it by now. It’s too obvious.”

“But … none of us have any reason to betray the group! We’ve all got good reasons for being here, and none of us have any reason to love the Empire.”

“How about fear? Or blackmail? Or money? There’s a hell of a lot of credits on our heads these days. People will break under all kinds of pressure.”

Hazel glared at him. “Anyone you feel like pointing the finger at?”

“No,” said Owen steadily. “Not at the moment. Perhaps I’m wrong. We’ve all been through a lot. Sometimes I feel guilty at dragging you all into my problems.”

“Don’t. I’m having a great time. And you didn’t drag me into anything. I chose to save your sorry ass on Virimonde. And you saved my life on Mistworld, so we’re even.”

“I couldn’t let you die.”

“Why not?”

“You matter to me,” said Owen slowly. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Hazel.”

Hazel looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start getting ideas, stud. This is strictly a marriage of convenience.”

“Relax. Deathstalkers only marry for status. You’re entirely safe.”

Hazel decided to change the subject. “How many men do you think the Iron Bitch will send after us?”

“At least one starcruiser, possibly two. We’ve made her people look bad so far, and she won’t like that. We can expect full contingents of attack troops, maybe even Wampyr and battle espers. And whether she knows the Device is here or not, this has got to be a matter of pride for her now. If she doesn’t stamp on us hard, and soon, her own people will start thinking she’s losing control of things. And some of them might try a little quiet insurrection of their own to test the waters. No, Lionstone will send as many troops as it takes to bring us down.”

“Good,” said Hazel, hefting a rifle and smiling at the weight of it. “Let them all come.”

“You worry me sometimes,” said Owen.

Jack Random and Ruby Journey had already outfitted themselves at the armory with a good selection of weapons and were currently in the kitchen trying to persuade the food machines to dispense anything other than protein cubes. They’d tried every combination of codes, including shouting at the machine and giving it a swift kick or two, but all they got for their troubles were more protein cubes. There were stories of marooned starfarers who’d eaten each other rather than live off those cubes, and Jack could understand why. But he was hungry, and at his age his body needed all the fuel it could get, so he made himself eat all of one cube and part of another. People had been awarded medals for less.

Ruby had refused point-blank to touch the things, but brightened up considerably on discovering the machine could dispense a quite drinkable wine. She got through half a bottle while Jack was struggling with his cubes and got quite chatty, for her. Normally, getting conversation out of the bounty hunter was like pulling teeth. To be fair, she was an action person, and most of the time really didn’t have anything to say. But Jack persevered on the grounds that anything that might take his mind off what he was eating
had to be a good thing, and they talked on and off for a while, mostly swapping anecdotes on particular fights and battles and the best ways to kill people.

“Why did you become a bounty hunter in the first place?” said Random eventually. “It’s not an occupation that appeals to everybody.”

“I was good at it,” said Ruby. “And the alternatives were worse. Can you see me sitting at a desk in sensible clothes shuffling files, or married to some dirt farmer with a dozen kids hanging from my apron strings?”

“Not really, no.”

“Damn right. They married me off at fourteen to the local collector of the water rates. It was either that or one of my cousins. He was big and heavy, with clammy hands. He thought it was fun to knock me about. He did other things, too. I waited till he was asleep one night, and then stabbed him in the throat with a carving knife. I watched him die. It took quite a long time. That was when I first realized I had a taste for excitement. I gathered up everything valuable that wasn’t nailed down, torched the place and ran for the starport. I’ve been on my own ever since, and I like it that way. Less complicated.”

“Have you done much work for the Empire?”

“Sure. They’re the ones paying the bounties, mostly. But I’m not prejudiced. I’ll work for anyone with money.”

“So what are you doing with us?”

“I never could resist a challenge. Besides, I was promised all the loot I could handle. Not that I’ve seen any of it yet.”

“How did you get to be friends with Hazel?”

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” Ruby took a long drink from her bottle. “Ran across her in Mistport, when we were both down on her luck. She got me out of a close call and pretty much adopted me. I didn’t get a say in the matter. I’d have dumped her years ago, but there are times when it’s good to have someone you can trust to guard your back. Time for you to answer some questions. How did you get to be a professional rebel?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It was quite a famous story, in its day. But I suppose that was some time ago, and my legend isn’t as respected as it once was. I was a lesser son of a lesser House, of no importance to anyone, not even myself. I drank, played cards, tried a little of this and little
of that, running up debts all the way. Then I got a serving maid pregnant, and my Family sent me to run a mining planet out near the Rim to keep me out of trouble. Planet called Trigann. Horrible place.

“I’d never been outside my pampered world before, and the reality of how the other ninety-seven percent live horrified me. The conditions the miners lived in, and the way they and their families were treated, were a disgrace even by Imperial standards, so instead of stamping out their rebellion, I joined it and somehow ended up leading the damn thing. And like you, I found something I was good at and decided to stick with it.

“So I went from planet to planet, preaching insurrection, and raising armies to protect the weak and the powerless, and punish the guilty. The odds were always against us, but we won a few, now and then. Enough to make me a legend and a rallying point throughout the Empire.”

“Until they caught you.”

“Yes. I was getting old and slow, and I trusted the wrong people. I’ve always been too trusting.” He sat quietly for a long time, staring at the half-eaten cube in his hands as though it could tell him something. “They broke me,” he said finally. “I was so sure I’d rather die first, but no, they broke me. I would have said anything, done anything, betrayed anyone, just so they wouldn’t hurt me anymore.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. Turned out I still had a few real friends after all. They got me out, though most of them died during it. I never even knew their names.”

Ruby nodded once. “Everyone breaks, in the end.”

“Yes. Even legends like Jack Random. Sometimes I think he died in that cell, and there’s nothing left now but his shadow. My real friends hadn’t give up on me, but I gave up on them. I wouldn’t lead their rebellion, I wouldn’t help them fight. I didn’t want to do anything but hide in a dark room where my tormentors couldn’t find me. After a while, my friends realized I was no use to them and never would be, but they still didn’t give up on me. They smuggled me to Mistworld, the one place where the Empire wouldn’t follow me. A place where everyone has secrets, but nobody cares. I dived into the shadows and disappeared there. I took a new name. It wasn’t difficult. I didn’t look much like a
legend anymore. I quite liked being Jobe Ironhand. No one expected anything from him.”

“All that time, hiding in plain sight,” said Ruby. “I spent a lot of time looking for you. I could have used the money. And there you were, right under my nose.” She smiled briefly. “I’m glad I didn’t find you then. I would have been so disappointed. You’re different, now.”

Random raised an eyebrow. “I am?”

“Sure. You’re waking up. You aren’t what you used to be, but you’re getting there. What did it, Random? What lured you back into the spotlight?”

“You want the truth? I was bored. Simple as that. I’m still scared most of the time, and my hands shake when they think I’m not looking, but anything’s better than pushing that damn broom around. There were quite a few days when even death seemed better than that. So here I am, one last fight for an old champion well past his prime.”