Deathstalker Rebellion (35 page)

He kept it simple and succinct, but hit all the salient points. There was a lot of uneasy murmuring from the assembled Court as he described what he’d found in the wrecked Base on Gehenna. He told how the
Dauntless
tracked the alien ship to Golgotha, and then the murmurs got really loud when he described the alien craft’s nature and capabilities and the life-forms he’d found inside it. He let Frost take over from there. She was the expert on aliens. Her report was cold, factual, even clinical, but Silence was shivering along with everyone else by the time she’d finished, and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with the cold. After she’d finished, it was very quiet. The Empress nodded slowly and looked out over the Court again.

“Perhaps now you appreciate our position on the necessity for increased military spending. If one alien ship can do so much, what might a fleet accomplish? We have heard whispers of late of a proposed revolt against the new tax increases; let us make it clear that any such treachery will be put down harshly, with every resource at our disposal. In the current circumstances, refusal to support the military can only be seen as treason against humanity.” General Beckett smiled, Cardinal Kassar did not. The Empress looked at Stelmach. “Do you have anything to add at this time?”

Stelmach swallowed hard, shook his head quickly, and finally managed a very quiet, “Not at this time, Your Majesty, no.”

“Very well,” said the Empress. “Guards, bring the prisoner forward.”

The middle of the crowd quickly parted to form a narrow aisle through which two armed guards half led and half dragged a naked man through the deep snow. He wore only wrist and ankle chains, and some blood that had spattered down onto his chest from his recently broken nose. His skin was a bluish-white, and he shuddered uncontrollably in the biting cold. The guards threw him on his knees before the Iron Throne. He looked up at Lionstone pleadingly and tried to say something, but he was shaking so much he couldn’t get the words out. Lionstone looked down at him thoughtfully.

“This pathetic object is Fredric Hill. Head of starport security here on Golgotha. We gave him the appointment ourselves. We thought he showed promise. This man let the rebels in, allowed them to sabotage the Tax and Tithe Headquarters, and failed to prevent them from lowering the planet’s defenses as they escaped. He also failed to protect us
from the alien ship. We could question him on this, but what’s the point? He’d just nod and smile and agree with everything I said, and then try to pass the blame onto his staff, or hidden traitors, or lack of the right equipment. Anything but himself. After all, he’d say, the rebels arrived in a Hadenman ship. Probably half his people took one look at the great golden ship of awful legend and ran for their lives. And the other half probably followed them, once the alien ship swept past our nonexistent defenses to strafe the city.

“It doesn’t make any difference. He was head of starport security, responsible for our defense. A strong man in that position might have accomplished much. He might have pulled enough of his people together to organize equipment repairs, bring secondary and backup systems on-line, send out rescue teams to aid the wounded and distressed in the city. Instead, according to his own security records, he dithered and fumbled and finally hid, reemerging only when it was all safely over. Quite unacceptable behavior from one of our officers. We have therefore decided that an example shall be made.”

She looked back at the Grendel alien, and after a moment everyone else did, too. It stood calm and relaxed behind the Throne, a living nightmare in spiked crimson silicon armor. The yoke around its armored neck made a sudden polite chiming noise, and then the alien surged forward so quickly the human eye couldn’t follow it. One moment it was standing just behind the Throne, and the next it was towering over the cringing security head, its great clawed hands on his bare shoulders. The courtiers nearest it surged back as far as the pressure of the crowd would allow, but the Grendel paid them no heed. Its claws sank deep into the man’s flesh, and thick runnels of blood coursed down his colorless flesh. He opened his mouth to scream, and the alien opened its mouth and bit the man’s face off. Skin and eyes and nose and mouth disappeared as the alien jerked back its great head, leaving only a shattered bloody skull, screaming horribly with the security man’s voice.

The alien chewed and swallowed and then leaned forward again, thrusting its grinning jaws into the man’s chest with brutal force. The sternum stove in, cracking like paper, and the Grendel alien’s head burrowed in the man’s chest, going after the heart like a pig hunting truffles. The man’s arms waved wildly for a few moments, and then they fell to his
sides and lay still. And Fredric Hill, once head of starport security, hung limply in the alien’s grasp as it chewed thoughtfully, savoring the flavor. The yoke around its neck chimed, but the Grendel didn’t respond. The yoke chimed again, and the Grendel dropped the body carelessly into the blood-soaked snow and moved unhurriedly back to resume its position just behind the Iron Throne. Steaming hot blood dripped thickly from its grinning jaws and ran slowly down its gleaming silicon armor. In the snow before the Throne, Hill’s body lay in a crumpled heap, like a broken discarded toy that no one wanted to play with anymore.

Silence moved in close beside Frost. He could feel the anger boiling within her, ready to spill over at a moment’s provocation. Her whole career had been built around killing aliens before they got the chance to kill people. He put a warning hand on her arm. It was as tense as coiled steel. She turned her head and gave him a hard look, and he took his hand away. Frost was an Investigator and had no time for human weaknesses like compassion. Her anger was purely professional.

The Court murmured among itself, looking from the Grendel to the gutted body and back again, impressed by the savagery of the kill, if not the quality of the control the Empress had over it. The many lessons involved in the man’s death had not been missed by any of the courtiers. Silence shared a significant glance with Stelmach, but they both kept their peace. Those courtiers nearest the body looked down at the open wounds steaming in the chill air and tried to back away a little farther. But the crowd was packed in tight behind them, and there was nowhere for them to go. Nobody wanted to look at the alien. The Empress smiled at them all.

“Cute, isn’t he? Table manners aren’t up to much, but he’s only young. Really little more than a baby. Imagine what he’ll be like when he comes of age. Imagine an army of him, spilling across a battlefield like an endless wave of slaughter. Unstoppable shock troops, leaving nothing behind them but mountains of dead and oceans of blood. I’m quite looking forward to it. The work into controlling the Grendel aliens more perfectly is going well. Soon we’ll have yokes for every Sleeper in the vaults, and then we’ll send them out against the aliens who attacked us here today. Or anyone else who threatens us. Captain Silence, you haven’t finished
your report. Tell the Court what you discovered on the Wolfling World.”

Silence, Frost, and Stelmach took it in turns to tell what they’d found in the vast caverns deep beneath the frozen surface of the Wolfling World, once also known as Haden, home to the augmented supermen, the Hadenmen. They told of the thousands of sleeping Hadenmen, who rose from their long death-like sleep and walked out of their Tomb, glorious and powerful, an army of cyborg warriors who once tried to overthrow humanity and only narrowly failed.

They told of the rebels who woke them: the outlaw, Owen Deathstalker, the pirate Hazel d’Ark, the bounty hunter Ruby Journey, and the legendary professional rebel Jack Random. They told of the defeat of the
Dauntless’s
forces, but none of them mentioned the Lord High Dram’s presence or his death at the hands of another legend—the original Deathstalker, thought dead for centuries, but now returned for vengeance against the Empire that betrayed and hounded him. All three had been told previously, in no uncertain terms, that Dram was not to be mentioned. Given their current situation, Silence and Frost and Stelmach were happy to be flexible with the truth.

The Court continued to murmur among itself, despite darting glares from the Empress, as the courtiers reacted to names like Jack Random and the original Deathstalker. They were also troubled by the reemergence of Owen Deathstalker, outlawed by the Empress for no good reason, who had evaded all her armies and now looked to be leading the new rebellion. And they really didn’t like the idea of a new army of Hadenmen massing to attack the Empire again. The only reason the Hadenmen weren’t still officially listed as the Enemies of Humanity was because the rogue AIs of Shub were even nastier. The Empress finally sat back and let them mutter for a while before reclaiming their attention with her amplified voice.

“Let’s not all panic just yet, boys and girls. The Hadenmen are a long way away and only newly awakened; it will be some time yet before they’re in any position to pose a real threat to us. The man claiming to be Jack Random could be nothing more than a double; rebel propaganda to draw people to their cause. The man himself is probably long dead.” She stopped suddenly as BB Chojiro stepped gracefully out of the crowd to stand before the Throne. BB
bowed gracefully, and the Empress fixed her with an icy glare. “This had better be good, Chojiro. And extremely relevant.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, it had come to us through normally reliable channels that Jack Random had been captured by Empire forces some time back, and then escaped.”

“Then, you were misinformed,” said Lionstone flatly. “We never had him. If we had, he would never have been allowed to escape. Is that clear? Good. Now, don’t interrupt us again, or we’ll have the Grendel open you up so we can all see what little girls are made of.”

“Clan Chojiro has no wish to appear rude or impertinent, Your Mjaesty,” said BB calmly. “We are merely trying to ascertain the facts. The Hadenman ship that brought the rebels here today was very real and twice as impressive, implying that not only are the Hadenmen and the rebels working together, but that the augmented men are already so well prepared that they can drop in on us anytime they like. Who is to say a fleet of these ships is not already setting out from Haden to try humanity’s strength again?”

“You’re a real cheerful sort to have around, Chojiro,” said Lionstone. “If the Hadenmen are getting ready for a comeback, that is all the more reason to support my military buildup, and stop whining about your tax bills, isn’t it? Anyone else want to add anything before we move on? Bearing in mind it had better be pretty damn good, or we’ll keep you all here till your eyeballs freeze solid.”

“If you will allow me,” said Valentine Wolfe, “I have a few words to say.” He stepped forward to stand beside BB, who gave him a brief sidelong glance and then stepped a little farther away. Valentine gave her a dazzling smile anyway and nodded to the Empress. “Lovely Court, Lionstone. Very bracing. Could do with a few penguins, but I like the snow. It goes with my complexion. Now then, I had heard, through various, reliable, and only slightly corrupt sources that your consort, the Lord High Dram, had been a part of Captain Silence’s expedition to the Wolfling World, and that, regrettably, he met his end there. And is, in fact, quite definitely dead. Given that no one seems to have seen him at Court or at your side for some time, perhaps you could reassure us all as to his present whereabouts and well-being?”

“Of course,” said Lionstone. “Dram was never there. He
has been here on Golgotha all along, undertaking some important business for me.”

“I’m sure we’re all very relieved to hear that,” said Valentine. “But where might the Lord High Dram be, right now?”

“Right here,” said the Empress, smiling calmly. “At my side, as he always is.”

She gestured smoothly, a hologram shield disappeared, and there was Dram, standing beside her, between Cardinal Kassar and the Throne. Kassar didn’t actually jump, but he looked as though he would have liked to and did move away a step before he could stop himself. Dram, Warrior Prime of the Empire, stood at Lionstone’s side in his jet-black robes and battle armor, his familiar handsome face perhaps just a little cold and distant. He nodded calmly to the assembled courtiers, who stared silently back. There had never been any love lost between Lionstone’s right hand and the Company of Lords. Valentine studied Dram for a long moment, then looked at BB, shrugged, and stepped back into the crowd. No point in playing out a losing hand. BB Chojiro inclined her head to Dram and to the Empress, and stepped back to rejoin Investigator Razor. Silence and Frost and Stelmach looked at each other.

“Now, that is interesting,” murmured Frost. “If that’s Dram, who did we see die on the Wolfling World? The real Dram? Is this a clone, or was it the clone who came with us while the real Dram stayed behind here?”

“I don’t know,” said Silence. “But I have a strong feeling asking those sorts of questions could prove to be really bad for your health.”

“What are you saying?” said Stelmach impatiently. “I can’t understand either of you when you whisper like that. What are we going to do?”

Silence and Frost looked at each other. Without realizing, they’d fallen into the near telepathic contact again, their thoughts jumping back and forth like conversation. Which should have been impossible with all the esp-blockers Lionstone insisted on for Court gatherings. Something else for them to discuss when they were safely alone.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” said Silence to Stelmach. “We’re going to keep our mouths shut until the Empress tells us what to say. If she says that’s Dram, then that’s Dram. Right?”

“Fine by me,” said Frost.

“Right,” said Stelmach, but he didn’t look at all happy about it.

There was a sudden disturbance among the courtiers as someone moved forward through the crush, and then a man dressed in the very height of fashion stepped out of the crowd to stand challengingly before the Iron Throne. He wore a long golden frock coat and leather boots that rose halfway up his thighs. His hair was long bronzed strands, and his face was blindingly florescent. The thick silver medallion hanging over his breast proclaimed him an elected Member of Parliament. He glanced quickly about him for the holo cameras he knew were somewhere around, even if he couldn’t see them, and drew himself up proudly. Like all politicians, he understood the importance of putting on a good show for an audience. And half the Empire would be watching today.