Deathstalker Legacy (22 page)

“The honorable Members will resume their Seats and behave in a proper manner, or I will call on the House’s security people to move among them and bang some heads together. And I am not being metaphorical.” The MPs thought about that, remembered that this was an ex-Paragon talking, and stiffly resumed their Seats. Douglas nodded, and sat down again too. “That’s better. Now; sometimes justice must not only be done but be seen to be done. If the people of the Empire had a better idea of how the Board arrived at its decisions, it might help to convince them that the process is inherently fair. I suggest, therefore, that this House appoint some form of outside regulatory body to investigate the Board’s decisions, past and present, and then make its findings public. My grandfather was a great believer in open government, and so am I. How say the honorable Members?”

The Members liked the general sound of it, but for pride’s sake still discussed it thoroughly for some time before agreeing to set up the regulatory system. Secretly, many of the MPs approved. The Transmutation Board had been growing too powerful, too independent. And the public would like it, because they’d finally be able to see who was getting what, and why. So once again, the King came out of it looking good.

Which would have made an excellent ending to the day’s Session, but while the House’s business was over, one man in the House still had business with the King. A human figure suddenly broke out from among the human holo images in the alien section, elbowing aside the few corporeal aliens, and ran forward onto the floor of the House. The handful of security men actually in the chamber were taken completely by surprise. The aliens were startled and shocked too, many of the holo images snapping on and off in the confusion. It shouldn’t have been possible for a human to have been among them undetected for so long.

The man now standing in the center of the House threw off his enveloping cloak to reveal a large device strapped to his chest, and everyone went very quiet. No one actually said the word
bomb,
but everyone was thinking it. The King gestured quickly for the security people to stand still, and they did. The man with the device looked triumphantly about him, smiling nastily, his eyes wild and staring. His face was pale and sweaty, and his hands trembled as they hovered near the device.

“I am Neuman!” he said loudly, his voice cracking with strain. He was breathing heavily. “I am here for Pure Humanity! I am here . . . to die for my cause. Everyone stand still! No one move! I have a detonator in my hand, and if anyone gets too close, anyone even threatens me, this device goes off.” He glared about him, his breathing slowing as his confidence grew, and he took in the way everyone was listening so raptly to his prepared speech. “This isn’t just a bomb; it’s a transmutation device. Everyone in the blast radius will be transmuted back into basic particles, into the original protoplasm we all came from. Transmutation has always worked both ways.” He giggled suddenly. “Try using your regen tech on that! With this bomb, dead is dead! But don’t worry, all you honorable Members; I’m not here for you. Not necessarily. You sit tight, and don’t interfere, and you’ll walk out of here alive and intact. I’m here for the King.”

Everyone looked at Douglas, sitting very still on his Throne. “You want me?” he said clearly.

“Oh yes,” said the bomber. “And you’re going to sit right there and let me come to you, or I’ll detonate right here, and you can watch all these people, and this alien scum, devolve back into sludge. What kind of a King are you, Douglas? Ready to let innocents die on your behalf? Or do you have the guts to sit there and take what’s coming to you?”

“Come to me,” Douglas said steadily. “No one will interfere. That is my order.”

The bomber sniggered nastily. “You too, Champion. Deathstalker. Undo your weapons belt. Let them drop to the floor, and kick them away.”

“Do it, Lewis,” said Douglas.

“I’m a really fast draw,” said Lewis, subvocalizing so his voice only sounded on their private comm channel. “There’s a really good chance I could take his arm off at the elbow before he can use the detonator.”

“Not a good enough chance,” said Douglas, subvocalizing.

“We don’t know what safeties and backups have been built into that device. Do as he says, for now. Get him close, away from the innocent bystanders, and then maybe you can try something.”

Lewis slowly unbuckled his belt, and let his gun and sword fall to the floor. He kicked them out of reach, and glared at the bomber, who sneered right back at him, unmoved. He marched cockily forward, heading for the King, and all the MPs sat tight and did nothing. The security men looked at each other, and did nothing, torn between their duty to protect the MPs and their duty to protect their King, and frozen in place by the horror of the transmutation device. And while they hesitated, lost for what to do for the best, the bomber came to a halt before the golden Throne on its raised dais. He held up his right hand, so Douglas could see the detonator in his grasp.

“Dead man’s switch,” he said clearly. “I let go, and bang!”

“That thing goes off, you’ll go with it,” said Lewis.

“I came here to die!” the bomber said defiantly. “To give my life to the cause of Pure Humanity! The King must die; because he supports the rights of the alien filth who threaten to undermine our Empire. The King’s death will show we mean to be taken seriously.”

“Oh, we’ll take you very seriously,” said Lewis. “We’ll hunt down the people who sent you, and hang every damned one of them.”

The bomber laughed in the Champion’s face. “Transmutation will make my body unrecognizable. Who I am doesn’t matter. Who sent me doesn’t matter. Only the cause matters! No compromise with Purity! Would you like to beg, Douglas? There’s time for you to beg, before you die.”

Douglas rose slowly from his Throne. Jesamine moved to stand with him, but he pushed her gently back, out of harm’s way, holding the bomber’s eyes with his. “You came here for me. Just me. Stand there, and I’ll come to you.”

“Yes,” said the bomber. “Come to me, Douglas. I’ve got something for you.”

And while the bomber’s attention was fixed on the King, Lewis eased the heavy Deathstalker ring off his finger, wound up and threw it, all in one swift motion. The ring shot through the air, and hit the bomber in his right eye. He howled with pain and shock, caught off guard, and in that short moment while his body struggled to deal with conflicting impulses, Lewis activated the force shield on his arm and threw himself on the bomber. The body-sized energy field appeared just before he crashed into the bomber, and then the two of them hit the floor, with the energy shield crackling between them. The detonator flew from the bomber’s hand, the transmutation bomb activated, and all its force reflected back from the force shield and into the bomber’s own body. He just had time for one despairing cry before his tissues broke down, and all that remained of his body was a pile of steaming pink slime.

Lewis threw himself to one side, and shut down his force shield. His whole body was shuddering with revulsion. He slapped and scraped at his leather armor with his hands, to be sure nothing had got onto him, but his force shield had protected him. He was still trembling when Jesamine Flowers was suddenly in his arms, holding him tight and crying on his shoulder.

“Oh Lewis, I thought you were dead! That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life . . .”

Lewis held her for a moment, caught entirely by surprise, and then he looked over her heaving shoulder and saw the media cameras rushing towards him. He looked back at the Throne, and saw Douglas looking at Jesamine and him, and he saw something cross the King’s face, very briefly. Something that might have been betrayal. Lewis gently but firmly pushed Jesamine away from him, and helped her to her feet. The MPs were cheering and saluting him, and calling his name, but Lewis had eyes only for his friend, the King. He escorted Jesamine back to her husband-to-be, and Douglas nodded his thanks. Neither man said anything at all, in front of the cameras.

 

Brett Random could just about get his head around why Finn Durandal would want to hook up with a psycho like Rose Constantine, but he was utterly baffled when Finn led the two of them into the grand, luxurious, and very law-abiding offices of the Transmutation Board. The Board and its people filled the entire building, a towering edifice in the very best part of the city. The lobby they were strolling so casually into took up the whole ground floor. Men and women in very smart suits strode purposefully back and forth, their bodies radiating confidence and stern resolve. They were important people, and they knew it. Finn strode calmly across the gleaming marble floor, looking straight ahead, and the suits changed direction to get out of his way. They gave Rose Constantine plenty of room too. Brett stuck close to Finn, and tried not to be noticed.

Works of real art hung on the walls, and Brett priced them automatically as he passed, even though he knew he’d never be able to shift them. They were way out of his league. The piped music was strictly classical, and the air smelled like a meadow in midsummer. Brett didn’t like it. He was strictly a city boy. His fingers just ached to steal something, on general principle.

The reception desk in the middle of the lobby had more computer power built into it than some starports. The receptionist behind the desk was stunningly beautiful, without a trace of visible makeup, but her professional smile as they approached was as cold as her eyes. Brett somehow just knew that the words
not without an appointment
were engraved upon her soul. Finn stopped at the desk, nodded in an entirely unimpressed way to the receptionist, and then turned to Brett and Rose.

“See that sofa over there? Go and sit on it. Stay there. Don’t touch anything or talk to anyone. And Rose;
don’t kill anyone.
”

Brett went quickly over to the sofa and sat down, glad to get away from the receptionist. She looked the type to have a gun under the counter, and more security people on call than some minor planets. She also looked like someone who wouldn’t be impressed by a mere Paragon; even if it was the mighty Finn Durandal. It was all going to end in tears, he just knew it. Rose sat down beside him, and Brett had to fight the urge to edge away from her. Up close, she had an almost overwhelming presence, seductive and threatening at the same time. Her bloodred leathers creaked softly as she breathed. Brett was very careful not to look at her breasts. She crossed her legs suddenly, and he almost jumped out of his skin.

“What the hell are we doing
here
?” he said urgently, keeping his voice low. Talking helped distract him. “Only the most trustworthy and creditable people are even invited to join the Transmutation Board. People with years of public service behind them. Solid, upstanding citizens already so wealthy they’d just laugh at any attempt to bribe them. Not the most obvious place, I would have thought, to look for potential traitors.”

Rose turned her head to look at him. Brett tried not to whimper. “You’re not comfortable here, are you?” she said calmly.

“Hell no! They could offer free drinks and lap-dancing, and I still wouldn’t be comfortable. This place is full of hard-working, law-abiding, and honorable people, and they make my skin crawl. I don’t belong here. Them and me, we don’t even live in the same world.”

“I know what you mean,” said Rose. “We have a lot in common, you and I.”

A thought that frightened Brett so much he immediately fell into a shocked silence, and gave all his attention to Finn bracing the receptionist. And was surprised and shocked again when Finn leaned forward and said something confidential, and the receptionist’s face went white. Her whole demeanor crumbled in a moment, and she started stabbing desperately at the comm panels before her, and speaking very seriously into them. Finn smiled at her, and that just made her try even harder. Eventually she got through to the right person, spoke briefly but urgently, listened, and then nodded fearfully to Finn. He turned his back on her and walked over to the sofa. The receptionist watched him go with wide, traumatized eyes. Brett and Rose got to their feet.

“It’s all arranged,” said Finn. “He’ll see us now. Even though we don’t have an appointment.”

“How nice,” said Brett. “Who’ll see us? And what the hell did you just say to that poor girl?”

“Joseph Wallace. He’s Chairman of the Transmutation Board. Don’t question me, Brett. I know what I’m doing. Follow me, and all will be made clear. Though you probably won’t like it.”

Nothing new there, then,
thought Brett.

A security guard in a very impressive uniform appeared out of nowhere, to guide them where they were going. He recognized Finn immediately, and all but gushed over the Durandal until rendered speechless by an autograph. He led the way to the Chairman’s private elevator, which took them directly and very smoothly up to the top floor, where the guard left them. He wasn’t authorized to go any farther. A new security guard, in a rather more practical uniform with a lot more built-in armor, took them the rest of the way, to the door of the Chairman’s office. He told Finn he’d have to give up his weapons before he could go in. Finn looked at the guard, who swallowed hard and went away. Finn opened the door without knocking, and led the way in.

The office itself turned out to be surprisingly small and cozy, with a few comfortable chairs set out before a strictly functional desk with a computer terminal built into it. Holo scenes of eye-pleasing countryside vistas on the walls, changing at regular intervals. Thick carpet. Really deep, thick carpet. The Chairman came out from behind his desk to shake Finn warmly by the hand. He was tall and well set, with a blandly handsome face and a commanding presence. His suit probably cost more money than Brett had made from selling his Coronation recording, and he’d had his eyelids covered with gold leaf, so that they flashed disconcertingly when he blinked. He shook Brett’s hand too, a good firm grip, and hesitated only momentarily before offering his hand to Rose. She just looked at him, leaning back against the closed office door, her arms folded across her chest. The Chairman gave her a meaningless smile, and retreated back behind his desk. He gestured for Finn and Brett to sit down too, and they made themselves comfortable.