Deathstalker (7 page)

“It’ll be risky. The codebreakers could follow me to you.”

“Do it. I need to know how many men I’m facing and how many of them have energy weapons.”

“All right, I’m in. Three men. One disrupter. They’ve all got swords. They’ve taken cover behind the flyer.”

“Damn,” said Owen. “Who the hell are they?”

“More of your security people. I can give you their names if you want.”

“Wouldn’t know them if you did. Not my province. As long as the head of security did a good job, I didn’t interfere.”

“Well, in the future, assuming we have one, I suggest you take the time to make a few friends among your security people. Never know when it might come in handy.”

Owen growled something in response, but he wasn’t really listening. The fact was, in a moment he was going to have to take on three armed men, one of them with an energy weapon, and he couldn’t put it off much longer. A hand disrupter only took two minutes to recharge between each shot, which meant he was running out of time fast. He had to make his move while the gun was still useless. Three to one odds weren’t that bad. Not for someone with his training. But that was all he’d had: training. He’d never had to face these kind of odds for real before. And he’d let himself get out of shape. He’d been so sure he was safe here. … He pushed the thought to one side and unconsciously sucked in his gut. He was going to have to be a fighter after all, despite all the promises he’d made to himself after his father’s death. He was going to have to be a Deathstalker, and all that that meant.

He drew in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out. A slow, purposeful calm crept over him. He smiled briefly, acknowledging the irony, and then spoke the activation word
boost
. Blood thundered through his head and his heart raced. The buried subliminals kicked in, flooding his system with adrenaline and endorphins, and other serums from specially gengineered glands. His muscles swelled and his senses blossomed. He was stronger, faster, more efficient in every way. His thoughts were sharp and lightning fast. For as long as the boost lasted, he would be more than human; more than merely human. He couldn’t maintain it for a long, or it would burn him out. But he could stand it long enough to do what he had to do.

He burst out of the tunnel entrance again, moving too quickly for the human eye to follow, raised his disrupter and shot the man holding a gun through the chest while he was
still reacting to Owen’s sudden appearance. The energy beam punched right through the security man’s chest and threw him aside. The energy gun flew from his hand, out of reach of the others. Owen was upon them both before the first man hit the ground. They seemed to be moving in slow motion to him, every second an age. Their swords rose nightmarishly slowly, and then he was among them, inhumanly fast and strong, supercharged almost beyond the ability of the human frame to bear. His sword ripped through one man’s throat, half severing the head from the body, and then leapt on to plunge into the third man’s chest. And as quickly as that, it was all over.

Owen snapped out of boost and almost fell as all the accumulated stress hit him at once. He’d been using controlled hysterical strength, though not all of it. Using the muscles to their full extent would tear them clean away from the bones. His abused heart was hammering painfully fast in his chest, his breathing was quick and strained, and he was soaked with sweat. He shook uncontrollably as the chemical stew he’d pumped into his system slowly began to disperse. Just the shock alone would have killed an ordinary man, but he was far more than that. He was a Deathstalker, and the boost was the real Deathstalker inheritance.

The shaking died away, and he smiled tremulously. Damn, he felt good. He shook his head slowly, forcing down the euphoria. It wasn’t real; just a side effect of the endorphins still in his blood. This was the Deathstalker secret; what made his Family such perfect fighting machines. The constant temptation that had to be faced and mastered. A rush greater than any single drug could ever provide; a potential addiction stronger than any will could deny. This was the key to Deathstalker training, backed up by subliminal commands deep within the subconscious mind: only to use the boost when you had to. Owen had never really been tempted. The few times he’d used it before, under strictly controlled conditions, it had scared the crap out of him. It pushed aside the mind, brought out the beast that lurks in every man, and made him like it. Made him just the kind of man he’d always sworn he’d rather die than become.

He pushed the thought aside and sheathed his blood-smeared sword without bothering to clean it. He’d pay a price for the boost later, but he couldn’t let himself collapse and sleep until he was safely away from here. If anywhere
was safe for him now. And assuming he didn’t have to use the boost again.

A memory came to him, reinforced by the last of the chemicals still moving sluggishly in his blood. He was fourteen years old, and his father was beating the shit out of him in a training session to force him to use the boost, to become an adult Deathstalker. It took a lot of beatings before he finally learned how to summon the boost.

Thanks a lot, Dad
.

“Oz, any sign of more of these idiots?”

“No, Owen. According to the flyer’s admittedly somewhat limited sensors, there are no other life signs in the immediate vicinity. There aren’t that many people who know about your outlawing so far, and they have a lot of ground to cover. But there is no knowing when they might discover your escape route and follow you down here. May I earnestly suggest that you power up the flyer and get the hell out of here? Both your options and mine are shrinking fast. I’m having to use more and more of my systems to defend myself against the Imperial codebreakers. My mind is under threat. If you don’t download me soon, I will be unable to assist you further.”

“All right, leave off the emotional blackmail. I’ll see what I can do once I get to my private yacht. The
Sunstrider
has more than enough system capacity to hold you.” Owen smiled suddenly. “And they said I was crazy to pay that much money for a yacht. I’ll show them. The
Sunstrider
’s got options built into her that most people have never even dreamed of.”

“The yacht was a wise choice in retrospect,” said Ozymandius. “I have always admired your Family’s capacity for practical paranoia.”

Owen laughed breathlessly and threw open the canopy of his private flyer. It wasn’t much to look at; just a long slender cabin with wings and a small motor. Top speed of a hundred, if the wind was with you, and the energy crystals only lasted about a week between rechargings, but it was useful for getting around his estates, so he’d kept it handy. He’d never seriously considered it as an emergency route, but he’d felt more secure knowing it was there, and he wasn’t reliant on anybody else for transport. He slipped into the pilot’s seat and pulled the canopy shut. It only took a few seconds to power up the craft, then he lifted it carefully off its
dais and flew it out of the caverns and into the bright morning sunlight.

The canopy darkened automatically to keep out the sunlight, but it still seemed painfully bright. He headed north, pushing the speed to maximum as fast as he dared. Virimonde looked cool and green and calm and peaceful. It didn’t seem possible that his life could be threatened in such a perfect world. The great grasslands rolled away in one direction, fields of waving corn in the other, both stretching as far as the eye could see. Low stone walls crisscrossed here and there, and people worked unhurriedly in the fields as though this was just another day. The bitter thought,
It isn’t fair
, flashed through his mind and was gone. He didn’t have the time for self-pity. Owen tore his gaze away from his people and accessed the flight computers through his comm implant. All systems were responding normally, and the energy levels looks sufficient to get him to where he’d hidden the
Sunstrider
. If nothing went wrong. The flyer had no weapons systems and no energy shields. A disrupter blast would rip through the cabin like a knife through paper. Owen felt suddenly vulnerable, alone in a flimsy craft, and he shuddered for a long moment before he could bring himself back under control again.

The flyer’s sensors suddenly murmured in his ear, informing him that there were two other flyers on his tail. They were only a few minutes behind him, and slowly but steadily they were closing the gap. Owen swore feelingly. He should never have authorized the extra flyers for his security people. He tried for more speed, but the low energy levels made the craft sluggish. It only took a quick calculation to show Owen the other flyers would catch him up long before he could reach
Sunstrider
and safety.

“Oz, you still with me?”

“There’s no need to shout, Owen. I’m not deaf.”

“Then take over the flyer’s controls. Your reflexes are a lot faster than mine.”

“Yes, Owen.” The flyer lurched suddenly to one side and then back again, rising and falling at unexpected intervals. “Evasive maneuvers,” the AI explained.

“Next time,” said Owen, trying hard to hang onto his seat and his stomach’s contents, “a little warning would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Owen. I feel I should also warn you that according
to this flyer’s long-range sensors, there are at least three energy weapons on the flyers behind us. It will only take one hit in the wrong place to force us down.”

“I had worked that much out for myself, thank you. Any other good news you want to share with me?”

“Again according to the long range sensors, there are three more craft heading in pursuit. Too far off yet to identify the craft, but their speed implies they are much more powerful than the flyers, and they’re closing fast.”

Some days
, Owen thought,
things wouldn’t go right if you paid them
.

The flyer lurched suddenly as a disrupter beam tore through the left wing. The whole craft shuddered painfully, and its speed began to drop. It threw itself about the sky as the AI ran through every emergency maneuver the flyer was still capable of, but the damage had been done. Speed was down, altitude was falling, and the pursuing ships were drawing steadily nearer.

“You’ll have to take control, Owen,” said the AI suddenly. “I’m under increasing attack, and I can’t spare any more of myself to help you. You can contract me again if you reach
Sunstrider
. If not, I have enjoyed our relationship. Goodbye.”

“Oz! Ozymandius! Talk to me, damn you!” Owen waited, but there was no response. “Shit!
Boost!
”

He didn’t like to think what boosting again was going to do to him so soon after the last time, but it couldn’t be helped. He needed the extra speed and reflexes it would give him. Blood hammered in his head, and new strength Hooded through him. The flyer shuddered again as a second energy beam hit it from behind. The motor lost its high confident tone and began to stutter. The nose dipped, and the flyer headed for the ground. To Owen it all seemed to be happening in remorseless slow motion, but even though his hands were incredibly fast and sure on the controls, all he could do was guide the descent, not stop it. He was still a long way short of his destination, and for the first time Owen realized he probably wasn’t going to escape after all.

The ground rose slowly up before him, and he aimed for an open patch of tilled ground next to a line of windbreak trees. His hands clutched at the controls with such strength that he bent them out of shape, and the flyer began to sluggishly respond. Then another energy beam hit him from behind,
and all the lights on his control panels went out. The flyer dropped like a stone, the motor silent, and the ground came rushing up. The left wing hit first, spinning the flyer around. The impact slammed Owen forward against the restraining straps with brutal force, driving the air from his lungs.

For a moment he hung there, dazed and helpless, and then the boost jerked him awake. The flyer had dug its nose into the ground, and he was hanging over the spider-webbed canopy. He hit the strap release and lashed out with his fist as he fell forward against the canopy. Part of it shattered and fell outward, but there still wasn’t enough space for him to crawl past the jagged stumps of glass thrusting out from the canopy surround. There was smoke in the cabin, and behind him he could hear the crackling of flames. He took firm hold of the edges of the canopy, breaking away some of the glass and ignoring fragments that still bit into his hands, and slowly he forced the metal rim outward. The solid steel groaned as it yielded reluctantly to his boosted strength. Blood slithered down his hands. Smoke filled the cabin, tearing at his lungs. He bent away the steel edges and finally forced his way through the jagged glass and out.

He dropped bonelessly to the ground and lay still on the broken earth for a moment, before the boost forced him to his feet again. Flames roared in the cabin of the flyer, and thick black smoke billowed up into the sky like a marker. The pursuing craft couldn’t miss him now if they tried. He’d landed just a few feet short of the windbreak trees, and empty fields stretched out around him. He had no idea where he was, and the only maps were burning inside the flyer. He tried his implant again, but the AI was still silent. The boost moved in him like liquid fire, trembling in his supercharged muscles, and he felt as though he had all the time in the world to do whatever might be necessary. He checked his hands dispassionately. They weren’t too badly damaged, and the smaller cuts were already sealing themselves. He felt no pain in his hands or anywhere else, and wouldn’t till he came out of boost. At which point his aggrieved body would have a hell of a lot more to worry about than a few cuts and bruises. The human body wasn’t meant to work at this kind of level for this long.

He looked up and saw two flyers falling unhurriedly out of the bright sky toward him. Three more craft hung in the
distance like high-flying kites. Owen drew his sword with one hand and his disrupter with the other and headed for the trees. He wanted something he could put his back against. He might not be a warrior like his father, but he was still a Deathstalker, and he would show his enemies what that meant. Whoever the enemy was. Probably more of his own security people, the ungrateful bastards. He set his back against a wide tree trunk and leaned against it for support, They might come at him from the front and sides now, but not from behind. Good to have something you could rely on in an uncertain world.