Deathstalker Legacy (50 page)

“The media will love it. Prime-time coverage guaranteed. With a little encouragement from the right quarters, I’m sure the news channels could be persuaded to build up to the event by showing lots of programming covering the Paragons’ past triumphs and victories. Remind the people of just how much the Paragons have done for them in the past. How much they owe them. That will bring the crowds out onto the streets, to cheer their heroes, and provide news coverage that can be shown to all the worlds in the Empire. How say you, honorable Members?”

The honorable Members loved it. Mostly. Some (fairly) open supporters of Pure Humanity still wanted to investigate and even prosecute individual Paragons for their actions during the Neuman riot, very definitely including the Deathstalker, but they were quickly shouted down. The House wanted its heroes back. Wanted to feel safe again, behind the protection of the Paragons. And they all understood the appeal of a good Parade. Good publicity and good feeling from the Parade would spill over onto the House too. The King’s proposal was accepted, and passed, by a huge majority.

They then spent the rest of the Session arguing fiercely over who was going to pay for it.

 

Lewis and Jesamine lay naked together, wrapped around each other, on the mattress on the floor of Lewis’s mostly empty bedroom. They smiled at each other, basking in the afterglow of a very happy time, the sweat still cooling and evaporating on their bodies. Nothing like delaying and denying sex to make it really frantic. It had to be Lewis’s place. They couldn’t afford to be seen going to Jesamine’s place together, and there wasn’t a hotel in the city that wouldn’t be straight on the comm to the gossip rags, so . . . Jesamine’s own security people ran static, including the use of Jesamine’s official double, to distract and lure away the media pack that followed Jesamine wherever she went. (Given how smoothly the whole operation went, Lewis had a strong feeling they’d done this many times before, but he said nothing.) The two of them sneaked successfully into Lewis’s apartment entirely unobserved, Jesamine carrying an esp-blocker in her purse so there was no way they could be eavesdropped on. She wasn’t taking any chances. Lewis was impressed by her thoroughness.

They went straight to the bedroom, and stayed there.

Finally they sat up together, their backs pressed against the bare bedroom wall, still naked, eating Death By Chocolate ice cream straight from the same tub, with two spoons. (Lewis remembered to wash both the spoons first, at the last moment.) Every now and again they’d flick some of the ice cream at each other, and squeal and laugh and tussle playfully. Lewis had never been happier. But even so . . .

“We can’t stay here much longer,” he said regretfully. “The day’s Session in the House must have started by now. You have to be there, and I really ought to be. Can’t have the House thinking there’s a divide between the King and his Queen-to-be. They’d be sure to try and take advantage. And I ought to be there for this Session, because Douglas is going to put forward his proposal for a Parade of Paragons through the city. I’m supposed to lead it.”

“And so you should,” said Jesamine, licking ice cream from the back of her spoon. “Douglas told me about it. Good idea. Excellent theater. Just what the Paragons need; and the city, come to that. Everyone loves a Parade!”

“Surprisingly enough, it was Finn’s idea originally. Took it to the King in person, with most of the details already worked out. Chose the best route and everything. Good to see him getting involved in things again. He’s far too valuable to be wasted in an extended sulk. Perhaps having a new partner in Emma Steel is bringing him out of himself again.”

“Ah,” said Jesamine. “The infamous Emma Steel! Possibly the only woman in the Empire almost as famous as I am. What’s she really like?”

Lewis thought for a moment, idly stirring his spoon around the bottom of the now-empty ice cream tub. “Impressive. Even intimidating. Good at her job, and doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Just what this city needs.”

“Everyone should get what they need,” Jesamine said demurely.

Lewis laughed, put aside the ice cream tub, and cuddled her to him. They leaned happily together, not feeling the need to do anything or go anywhere just yet. They felt comfortable, at ease, relaxed in a way they never were as Champion and Queen-to-be. Jesamine looked around the bare and empty bedroom.

“Darling, I have to say; this is a bit . . . minimalist, even for you. No vidscreen, no furniture, no carpet . . . not even a bidet, or a chair to pile your clothes on. I hate to think of you living like this. It’s not right; not for the Champion of the Empire.”

“It’s only temporary,” said Lewis. “Things will sort themselves out, you’ll see. And then I’ll get the best chair money can buy.”

Jesamine sighed, and kissed him on the cheek. “I wish I had your faith, dear.”

“Do you feel guilty?” Lewis said suddenly.

“Of course I do! I’m not entirely unfeeling, sweetie. I’m very fond of Douglas. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Neither do I. He was always my closest friend. Ever since I came to Logres, he was always right there with me, backing me up. All the times we went into combat together, fighting side by side or back to back; trusting each other implicitly. I never thought I’d fail in my duty to him; as a King, and a friend.”

Jesamine took his chin in her hand, and turned his face to hers. “Are you sorry, Lewis? Sorry about this, about us?”

“No! No. I know this is wrong, but I don’t care. How can something that makes us both so happy be wrong?”

“That sounds like something I would say, darling. I’ve always been able to find really good excuses for my little peccadillos.”

Lewis considered that. “I won’t ask.”

“Best not to, dear. You’re different. I care about you.”

Lewis sighed. “Where do we go from here, Jes? What do we do about this?”

“Damned if I know, Lewis.”

“Should we tell Douglas?”

“I can’t see any way where that would turn out for the best, sweetie. He loves me, you see.”

“Oh Jesus . . . do you love him?”

“No. I admire him, I’m fond of him . . . but that’s all. Oh Lewis . . . I waited so long for my first real love; I should have known it would be complicated. People like us aren’t allowed to have normal, everyday lives.”

And that was when the emergency alarm went off in Lewis’s ear, blasting out of his Paragon comm channel like the wrath of God. He sat bolt upright on the mattress, almost shoving Jesamine away from him so he could concentrate on Douglas’s voice crashing through his head with harsh authority.

“Lewis! Where the hell are you?”

“I’m at my apartment, Douglas. Having a bit of a lie down. What’s up?”

“Get to Parliament fast. The shit has hit the fan, and we are all in deep trouble. Can’t brief you now, not even on a secure channel like this. Just . . . get here as fast as you can.”

“On my way, Douglas.”

The King broke contact. Lewis swung his legs off the mattress and rose quickly to his feet. He was scowling hard, his ugly face so harsh now it actually frightened Jesamine for a moment. Lewis grabbed Jesamine’s discarded clothing and threw it at her, and then climbed quickly into his black leather Champion’s armor. Jesamine clutched the dress to her chest and looked at Lewis almost timidly.

“What is it, Lewis? What’s wrong?”

“Get dressed,” he said tersely. “That was my emergency line. Something’s happened. Something really bad, by the sound of it. I have to get to the House. You had better too.”

Jesamine responded to the urgency in his voice, and started putting her clothes on. Lewis was dressed and ready to go long before she was, and strode impatiently round the room as he waited for her to finish. His mind was reeling with appalling possibilities; everything from open Neuman insurrection to an outbreak of plague, when another, far more disturbing thought hit him. He stopped his pacing abruptly, and looked across at Jesamine.

“This couldn’t be about us, could it, Jes? I mean; there’s no way he could know about what just happened here. We were so careful . . .”

Jesamine shrugged, studying her reflection critically in the bedroom’s only mirror while trying to do something with her tousled hair. “He’s the King. Who’s to say what he can and can’t know? I only have hardened security professionals; he has Anne. But I don’t think this is about us, Lewis. He wouldn’t want a public scandal. If only for his pride’s sake. Look, go into the other room and try the news channels. See if they’re showing anything yet.”

“I haven’t got a vidscreen,” said Lewis.

“What; not at all? All right, that settles it; next time we’re going to my place, and to hell with the difficulties. I absolutely refuse to live without the little necessities of life. There are limits, darling.”

“So . . . there is going to be a next time?” Lewis said carefully.

Jesamine shook her head, exasperated, marched over to Lewis and kissed him soundly on the mouth. “What did you think, Lewis? That once I’d had you, once I’d ticked you off my list, I wouldn’t want you anymore? We are in this for the long term, Lewis; get used to it. Some things are just meant to be, sweetie.”

“Unfortunately, you and I seem to be the only ones in the whole damned Empire who believe that,” Lewis said dryly. “But we’ll work something out. I know we will.”

“Of course we will, darling!” Jesamine kissed him again, brushed briefly at his armored chest with her hand, and headed for the door. And then she paused, and looked back over her shoulder at him. “Tell me; are you at all familiar with the plot of
Macbeth
?”

“Not funny, Jes,” said Lewis, shaking his head as he went after her. “Not funny at all.”

 

High up on a rooftop, Finn Durandal looked down on the street intersection, and studied the public vidphone booth for some time, from what he hoped was a safe distance. There were a lot of people about, coming and going and passing the phone booth without a second glance. It was situated right in the middle of a downtown shopping precinct, on a not particularly busy corner, and it all looked innocent enough; but Finn still wasn’t satisfied. You couldn’t afford to take any chances when dealing with ELFs. They’d insisted on speaking to him directly before they’d agree to join him in his plot to destroy the Paragons, and since neither side was foolish enough to show up in person, that just left the usual means of communication, of which public vidphones were the most safely anonymous. Finn chose the setting, the ELFs chose the particular booth, and they both agreed on a time. Finn got there an hour early, just in case, and watched from the rooftop, his force shield up, to protect him from sniper fire.

All the sensors on his gravity sled insisted the booth hadn’t been tampered with, or booby-trapped in any way, but still Finn was suspicious. He had no doubt the ELFs would sacrifice the possible gains of his plan for the more satisfying pleasure of a definite strike against him. They’d do anything to get their hands on the man who’d executed so many of them in the Arena. Finn could understand that. He was all for revenge, these days.

But the agreed time finally arrived, and he couldn’t see any good reason for hanging back any longer, and he didn’t want the ELFs to think they could intimidate him, so he stepped onto his gravity sled and swooped down into the intersection below. People scattered to give him room. He ignored them all, stepped off his hovering sled, and entered the vidphone booth. The phone immediately started ringing. They had been watching, after all. Probably through some far-off thrall’s possessed eyes. No point in looking around: it could be anyone. Finn hit the accept button, and the screen lit up before him to show a male face he didn’t recognize at all. The vicious arrogant smile and the wide staring eyes were familiar, though.

“Hello, Finn. I do so love a man who’s punctual. How do you like this body? Just a little something I threw on, especially for you. So we could have this little talk.”

“Forget the pleasantries,” said Finn. “We’re allies against a common enemy, and that’s all we’re ever going to be. Let’s get down to business.”

“Yes. Let’s. I want to hear you tell me all about how you’re going to betray your fellow Paragons. I want to hear it from your own lips, see the truth of it in your eyes.”

“They’re not my fellows anymore,” Finn said calmly. “I disowned them. The plan is just as my people described it to you. By now the King will have put to Parliament my proposal for a Parade of Paragons. Including the route details I so kindly worked out for him. Here’s the map, with all the particulars you’ll need.” Finn fed his infocard into the vidphone, and the ELF thrall downloaded the information at his end. “You now have the entire route, in advance, along with certain carefully worked out blind spots where you can conceal yourselves and wait. The Paragons won’t be expecting a mass esper onslaught. They’ll be too busy acknowledging the cheers and applause of the crowd to even realize what’s happening until it’s far too late. All the Paragons in one spot, trapped in a shooting alley, sitting ducks for determined ELFs with revenge on their mind. That’s what I’m offering you. Real payback for what happened in the Arena.”

“Your information is very thorough,” said the man possessed by another mind. “It appears to be everything you say it is. But why should we attack the Paragons in person? Much safer to use thralls. Use the innocent possessed to do our dirty work for us, so that even if the Paragons do fight back, they’ll have to kill innocents to protect themselves. That’s the ELF way.”

“Civilians with guns, even possessed civilians, won’t stand a chance against massed Paragons,” Finn said flatly. “They’ll shoot your thralls down before you can achieve anything worthwhile. They’ll hate themselves afterwards for doing it; but they’ll do it. But, if you’re there in person, in great enough numbers, that much massed mental power will be able to punch right through the few esp-blockers they’ll have with them, and possess the Paragons themselves. You can make them kill each other. Your hands, once removed, doing the bloody business. So much more satisfying, yes? Revenge should always be personal. Understand; this is the only chance I can give you. Be a shame if you threw it away, just because you didn’t have the balls to turn up in person.”