Deathstalker Rebellion (34 page)

In recent months he’d taken steps to publicly become very religious. He attended all the right services at all the right places, moved in all the right circles, backed the currently fashionable charities and pressure groups, and did everything he could to win the established Church’s approval. He needed their support if he was to win himself a place up in the rarefied heights where he deserved to be. However, in order to win the Church’s backing, he’d had to set up a public reputation as being purer than pure. This had taken some doing. In the past he’d gone his own way, did what he wanted when he wanted, and let his people clean up the mess afterward with money or threats. Typical enough behavior for an aristocrat with money to burn and more hormones than sense. Luckily, the Church didn’t care much about your past as long as you repented publicly, made a large donation, and put it all behind you. Gregor didn’t care twopence for the first two, but balked at the third. There were limits. Still, there was public, and then there was private. As long as he looked good in the public eye, rumored sins could be forgiven. Even ignored. Gregor had never been any good at public relations, but fortunately there were members of his Family who were. They were currently standing just behind him, waiting for his instructions. If they knew what was good for them. Gregor turned to face them, giving them both his best forbidding stare.

Toby the Troubador was his nephew, loath though he sometimes was to admit it. A short, fat, perspiring fellow with flat blond hair, a ready smile, a mind like a steel trap, and the morals of a starving sewer rat. His main duties and responsibilities were to write up the Family’s doings in the best possible light, and then see to it that those reports appeared in all the right places. Journals, holo shows, gossip
columns. He was a public-relations man, spin doctor, damage-limitations expert, and a first-class liar. He had to be. It wasn’t easy making Gregor Shreck look good. The rest of the Clan had their moments, bless their black little hearts, but Toby knew how to handle them. If they didn’t toe the line when he needed them to, with a prepared speech here and an appearance there, smiling and waving for the cameras, he just left them out of his reports entirely until they did. After all, the only thing worse then being talked about by everyone is not being talked about by everyone. If your face wasn’t in all the glossies and the holo shows, you weren’t anyone. Toby could make you a celebrity, famous for being famous, if you followed the rules. His rules. Namely, do what you like as long as it’s entertaining, but only as long as I get to hear about it first, so I can make sure it’s got the right spin on it before it hits the streets. Unfortunately, he couldn’t order Gregor about like that. If he’d ever been dumb enough to try, Gregor would have ripped out his vocal cords as a warning.

“Talk to me, boy,” said Gregor sharply. “What are you saying about Evangeline at present?”

“The official line is she’s resting, after overdoing it,” Toby said smoothly. “We haven’t specified exactly what she’s been overdoing, but the gossips will come up with something. They do so love to speculate. Presumably, you’ll let me know when she’s rested enough, so I can reintroduce her to society?”

“I’ll tell you what you need to know when you need to know it,” said Gregor. “How’s my current standing with the Church?”

“Reasonable. Though I do wish you’d learn to watch your language, Uncle. Sometimes I think the Church would happily pardon adultery, but not the specific four-letter word used to describe exactly what you were doing. Most people will turn a specifically deaf ear if I pay them enough, whether it concerns obscenities or political malaprops; but sooner or later you’re going to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong people, and there won’t be a thing I can do to help you.”

Gregor sniffed. “It was your idea for us to get into bed with the Church in the first place. Can’t say I’ve seen much in the way of results.”

“With the Church behind us, we are safe from a great
many other enemies,” Toby said patiently. “But if the Church ever finds out about the real you, we could be in real trouble.”

“Then, you’d better make damn sure they don’t, hadn’t you?” said Gregor.

“I do wish you two wouldn’t fight,” said Grace Shreck, knowing they wouldn’t listen to her. They never did. She was Gregor’s older sister and did her best to look as little like him as possible. She was long, tall, and thin, with a pale, swan-like neck, and a mass of white hair piled up on top of her head in a rather precarious-looking style that hadn’t been fashionable in years. She wore the same style of clothes she had when she was young, and noticed newer styles only in order to criticize them. Every now and again, fashion rediscovered her look, and for a month or so she would be the height of fashion, which embarrassed her greatly. Grace preferred not to be noticed, whenever possible.

She’d never married, because after their parents had died suddenly, Gregor had needed her services as assistant, secretary, and general dogsbody while he was holding the Family together and making it great again. There’d been no time for romance, no chance for a life of her own. The Family needed her, Gregor needed her, and she’d had to settle for that. And if she was ever angry, she kept it to herself. Eventually, there came a time when Gregor didn’t need her anymore, but she stayed with him anyway, because she didn’t know any other kind of life. The world had changed during her enforced absence, and people frightened her, whether they meant to or nor. Besides, she’d always known Gregor would never let her go. He couldn’t risk her marrying and moving outside the Family’s influence, outside of his control. She knew too much about the Clan in general and him in particular. And the things he’d done to make the Shrecks great again.

She came to Court as little as possible, because crowds upset her; but the Empress’s edict had been quite specific, for once. Everyone in the Families was to come. No exemptions. If you were on your deathbed, bring your deathbed with you. So Grace came on Gregor’s arm, stayed close to Toby, and tried to pretend she was just watching it on the holo.

She disapproved of the way Gregor treated Toby, but
didn’t know what to do about it. Certainly, Gregor wouldn’t listen to her, even if she could bring herself to say anything. Toby’s father had been Christian Shreck, younger brother to herself and Gregor. He disappeared years ago, after a furious head-to-head with Gregor, and was never seen again. The Empress ordered an investigation, but nothing ever came of it. Gregor submitted to questioning by an Imperial esper and surprised everyone by passing the test with ease. He was officially cleared. But after that, people stopped resisting Gregor’s rise to power.

Toby came under Gregor’s influence the same way every Shreck did; because he had no choice. Toby had a sister once, but the Empress took her to be one of her maids, and that was that. Grace couldn’t protect or advance him, so that just left Gregor. And so now the Shreck used Toby as he’d once used Grace, and there was nothing she could do about it. Another life sacrificed to Gregor’s ambition. That was just the way things were in Clan Shreck.

Grace sighed tiredly. She missed Christian. He’d been the only one in the Family with a sense of humor. She realized Gregor was shouting at Toby again. Gregor was having a hard time being a public person. He wasn’t suited to it. Grace looked at Gregor, red-faced and sweating as he raised his voice yet again, and suddenly it seemed to her that this was just the most recent in a long series of straws that broke the camel’s back. She stepped forward and slapped Gregor smartly on the arm with her folded fan.

“Gregor, I won’t have you using that kind of language in public! Remember, we are at Court. People are listening.”

“And you can shut your stupid mouth as well,” snapped Gregor without looking around. “When I want your opinion, I’ll have my head examined.”

“Really!” Grace could feel herself blushing, as she always did when someone spoke harshly to her. “Why can’t we all just be friends, in public at least?”

“She’s right, you know,” said Toby diffidently. “The Church believes in happy Families.”

“Stuff the Church,” said Gregor immediately, but in a somewhat lower tone. “I have a right to be angry. I can’t believe Valentine turned me down. It’s so obviously in both our interests to work together against our common enemies, that even he should have been able to see the advantages. All right, he’s a drug-soaked weirdo with no more common
sense than a leper playing volleyball, but if we’d stood together, no one would have dared stand against us.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry,” said Toby. “Valentine may be number one at the moment, but there’s no one here who likes or trusts him, despite all the smiles in his direction. Putting a good PR shine on an alliance between you two would have really strained my creativity. You’d have a better chance of selling lepers’ fingers as a fashion accessory. So what now, Uncle? Move to Plan B?”

“What’s Plan B?” said Grace suspiciously. “No one’s mentioned any Plan B to me. Honestly, Gregor, you never tell me anything anymore.”

“That’s because you don’t need to know anything; just shut up and do as you’re told. Stay here with Toby. Don’t move. I’ll take care of Plan B.”

Gregor stalked away without looking back. He knew they wouldn’t move without his permission. Plan B was the Chojiros. If the first Family wouldn’t deal, there was always the chance the second might. He kicked his way through the deep snow, and people moved quickly to get out of his way. But he no more noticed that than the air that he breathed. He drew himself up before BB Chojiro, glared briefly at the Investigator beside her to show he wasn’t intimidated, and then bowed briefly to BB. She bowed back, calm and assured. Razor ignored him.

“We have a common enemy in the Wolfes,” Gregor said flatly. “May I suggest that it is in our interest to combine against Valentine? You produce the computers for his star-ships, and I make the shells; but as long as he controls production of the new stardrive, we have to run our businesses to suit him. With just the right pressure and timing, he could ruin either one of us, even drive us out of business completely, so he could move in and take over. I had planned to work with the Campbells, back when they looked to be in the lead for the stardrive contract. We had an understanding. That’s why I permitted a linking marriage. But that fell through, and Valentine won’t deal. I work under his conditions or I don’t work at all. And that is completely unacceptable. So I need an ally to make sure I don’t get squeezed out, and you need someone to watch your back while you work with him. We could both profit from such a union, and after all, neither of us has any cause to love Valentine.”

“Both?” said BB. “I think not. All the profit would be on
your side. We don’t need you, Lord Shreck, and you have nothing we want. Yes, you build shells, but anyone can build shells. And to be honest, Lord Shreck, we’re rather choosy about who we ally ourselves with.”

“You little bitch,” hissed Gregor, and before he really knew what he was doing, his hand was shooting out to grab her by the throat. He hadn’t even got close before Investigator Razor’s hand shot out to intercept his. Gregor’s pudgy white hand disappeared entirely inside Razor’s big black fist, and Gregor cried out as Razor clamped down hard, grinding the bones of Gregor’s hand together. He let go after a long moment, and Gregor fell back a step, clutching his throbbing hand to his breast. BB Chojiro and her Investigator studied him with the same impersonal gaze as he stood before them, trembling with impotent rage.

“Turn around and go back to your own people, Shreck,” said Razor calmly. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. “You have no business here.”

Gregor glared at them both, searching for some final insult or threat that he could use to crush them, but in the end he had to turn silently and trudge back through the snow again. People moved even faster to get out of his way this time, giving him the same kind of respect one would a maddened scorpion that might strike out at anyone, just for being there. Gregor was actually thinking too hard to bother about that. He had to find allies and support from somewhere, or he might easily find himself being edged out of the starship business altogether. Anyone could build shells … His alliance with the Church should bring long-term benefits, but right now he needed the money. He’d find someone. There was always someone. And when he was a power again in his own right, he’d make BB Chojiro pay for daring to humiliate him. He made himself breathe more slowly. There was still latitude with Clan Wolfe. Maybe Valentine wouldn’t deal, but Daniel and Stephanie just might if approached in the right way. They might work with him just to spite their brother. Yes, that was an idea. He slowed his pace, and allowed himself a small smile. He would be strong again, and have his revenges upon his enemies, and no one would dare look down on him again.

Lionstone finally waved the people arguing before her to silence, and called the Court to order. Her amplified voice echoed across the arctic waste, cutting effortlessly through
the courtiers’ babble of voices. In a moment there was silence, broken only by the faint moaning of the bitter wind as the courtiers’ attention fixed on their Empress. She smiled out over them, and it was not a pleasant smile. The courtiers stood still and quiet before her, snow settling on their heads and shoulders till they resembled the snowmen they’d passed earlier. A few people made the connection in their minds and shuddered suddenly, not at all from the cold. Lionstone glared down at Valentine and Beatrice until they got the message, bowed, and faded back into the crowd. General Beckett and Cardinal Kassar moved to stand on each side of the Iron Throne, staring out at the courtiers, representing army and Church, the arms of the Empress. Lionstone nodded to Beckett, and he raised his voice in a parade ground bark.

“Captain Silence, Investigator Frost, and Security Officer Stelmach; step forward and make your report on the alien attack!”

Stelmach jumped guiltily and then looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Silence and Frost just strode forward, not looking around, until they stood at attention before the Iron Throne. Silence’s face was calm, but there was new hope in his heart. This was what he’d hoped for; a chance to tell his side of the story before anyone else had a chance to muddy the waters. He waited a moment for Stelmach to join them and then realized the Security Officer had stopped on the edge of the crowd, his eyes fixed on the Grendel alien standing just before the Throne. Silence didn’t blame him. The bloody thing disturbed the hell out of him, too. He reached back and pulled Stelmach forward to stand beside him. The Security Officer’s eyes never left the alien. Silence glanced at Frost and wished he hadn’t. The Investigator was staring at the alien hungrily, only a moment away from attacking the thing on general principles. Silence considered the matter, then reached out and pulled Frost back a step. The alien was the Empress’s pet, and if by some miracle Frost actually did manage to kill the bloody thing, Lionstone would not be at all happy. Frost pulled her arm free immediately and glared at him, but stayed where she was. Silence decided to start his report before something unpleasant happened.