Deathstalker Rebellion (78 page)

Shoal laughed suddenly. “I don’t know what you people have been smoking, but I’m pretty sure it must be illegal. Nothing else could get you this far from reality. Let’s do it, girl. Then, after I’ve killed you, I’ll kill your friends, and take back Jack Random’s head as a trophy.”

“In your dreams,” said Ruby. “Let’s do it.”

They slammed together, head-to-head, blades flying, no quarter asked or given. They stamped and lunged and their swords clashed together, sparks flying in the still air. They were both supremely talented, trained to great skill by harsh circumstances, and the speed at which they came together and sprang apart was exhilarating. Ruby laughed breathlessly, her sword everywhere at once. This was what she lived for, when she felt most alive. She could have boosted, but didn’t. She could have called on unnatural strength and speed, but she chose not to. She wanted to beat the Investigator in a fair fight, to prove she was the best.

Shoal swung her sword double-handed in an arc that would have beheaded Ruby if it had connected, but Ruby ducked under it at the last moment. She took the fight to Shoal, pressing the attack as hard as she could, and Shoal just stood there and took it, not retreating a step. Their swords hammered together, drawing blood here and there from minor wounds, neither able to gain the upper hand for long. But Ruby was getting tired and just a little slower, and Shoal wasn’t. Ruby was a bounty hunter, trained as a fighter in the hardest of schools, but Shoal, even with her illness, was an Investigator. And slowly, foot by foot, she began to push Ruby back. Shoal’s blade drew blood again and again, and Ruby couldn’t touch her. It slowly came to her that she’d finally found her better. And just maybe she was going to die if she didn’t boost. The boost would give her the edge she needed.
No
, she thought furiously.
I can do this. I can, not some gift from an alien device.
Shoal swung her sword with unexpected strength and slammed Ruby off balance.
She staggered back, trying to recover, and Shoal drew back her blade for a killing thrust. And Ruby’s blade shot forward, driven by boosted strength and speed she hadn’t called for, and punched through Shoal’s chest and out her back. Blood gushed from the Investigator’s mouth, and she sank to her knees with a look of utter surprise on her face. Ruby jerked her sword out, and Shoal fell forward and lay still.

“No!” said Ruby. “No! I didn’t want that!” She hacked at the body with her sword again and again, cursing and spitting. She hadn’t called on the boost. It had come unbidden, unwanted. For better or worse, the Maze wouldn’t let her be merely human anymore. She finally stopped herself and stood hunched over the mutilated body, panting for breath.

“Is she always like this?” said Beatrice.

“Not always,” said Random. “Ruby? Are you all right?”

“No,” said Ruby. “I don’t think so.” She sheathed her sword without cleaning it; then stopped, raised her head, and looked about her. “Hold everything. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this place.”

Random looked at her thoughtfully. He took her feelings seriously. He had them himself, sometimes. “You mean right here in the clone quarters?”

“No. More widely spread than that.”

Storm looked around nervously. “Could there be guards on the way?”

“I don’t know! Jack, join with me. We’re stronger together.”

Their eyes met and their minds joined. Their faces became blank masks as they concentrated, their minds leaping up and out to test their surroundings. Beatrice looked at Storm. “I didn’t know they were espers.”

“They’re not,” said Storm. “But don’t ask me what they are.”

Random and Ruby fell back into their heads and looked at each other incredulously. “I don’t believe it,” said Random.

“What?” said Storm. “Don’t believe what?”

“There are explosives everywhere,” said Ruby. “All through the factory.”

“At least three main groupings,” said Random. “Set to do maximum damage and timed to go off soon. Any one would have been enough to bring stardrive production to a halt, but God knows what this many will do. Right, that’s it. We are
out of here. Alex, use the codes we were given and get these pens open. We’ve got to get the clones out of here while there’s still time.”

“Wait,” said Beatrice. “You do know they’re executing your people at the ceremony?”

“Sure,” said Random. “Don’t worry. We’ll get to them next.”

“You won’t have time. Their execution’s been brought forward, to be sure of going out on prime time.”

“Damn,” said Random. “You can’t rely on anyone these days. Right; Sister Beatrice, you and Alex get the clones out of here. Since they’re in clear danger from the explosives, you can do that without risking your Sisterhood’s neutrality. Ruby and I will take care of the prisoners.”

“How?” said Alex.

“I’m working on it,” said Random.

“Thrills, chills, and last-minute rescues,” said Ruby. “Don’t you just love being an outlaw?”

In the beating heat outside the factory complex, the ceremony was going well. Everyone had remembered their lines, Kassar hadn’t hit anybody yet, and Toby Shreck and Flynn were covering it all, transmitting live to audiences all across the Empire. Important people were watching, not least the Empress, and everyone else was watching in the hopes of a major cock-up or rebel attack, like before. Toby kept up a murmured running commentary during the slow bits and suffered through the longer speeches. If they didn’t get to the executions soon, people might start losing interest. A new stardrive might be just what the Empire needed, but it didn’t actually make great viewing in itself.

All in all, though, things were going better than Toby had expected. As requested, Half A Man was staying in plain view and not retreating into the background as usual. He wasn’t actually doing or saying anything, but his public appearances were so rare these days that any new sighting was an event. Toby had put as much effort into convincing Half A Man as he had into persuading Flynn not to wear his best party frock. Good ratings needed all the help they could get.

The Wolfes were standing right at the front, each with their own proper spouse, smiling and nodding and generally being nice to each other. People had won drama awards for less. There was an underlying air of tension among them,
but that was to be expected and hopefully wouldn’t show up on camera. Toby couldn’t help noticing that they kept checking their watches when they thought no one was looking. Presumably, they were getting impatient for the executions, too. Toby smiled to himself. They didn’t know about his planned dramatic plea for clemency.

The ranks of Church troops and factory security staff were still standing rigidly to attention and made a nice spectacle. Only a few more had fainted from the heat, and the audience wouldn’t mind that. It added a touch of drama and made them more sympathetic to the audience. Toby had considered bribing a few to mock faint, but had rightly decided the heat would do the job for him. The prisoners looked like rabble. Animals in chains. Presumably, arranged quite deliberately. The Wolfes never missed a good propaganda opportunity.

Daniel Wolfe stepped forward to make the final speech, reading from a teleprompter with all the warmth and spontaneity of a particularly dense block of wood. Flynn moved in a little closer to frame the man’s head and shoulders, to hide the fact that Daniel’s hands were twitching nervously. Toby listened carefully, nodding now and again. It was a good speech. Almost as good as the stuff he used to write. He looked across at the ramp protruding from the factory entrance. The first finished stardrive was waiting in the wings, great ugly thing, ready to make an entrance on cue. Toby allowed himself a small glow of satisfaction. With work like this to his credit, he’d be able to pick and choose from among the very best journalistic assignments. It was a good show, if a little safe and uncontroversial, to end his time on Technos III. Pity it couldn’t have had a touch more drama, though.

Jack Random and Ruby Journey, hidden and anonymous inside their borrowed Jesuit robes with the hoods pulled well forward, strode haughtily past the security cameras and the few guards left on duty. Most just nodded them through. You didn’t argue with Jesuits, unless you wanted to spend your next weekend on some really inventive and humiliating penance. Random kept up a quiet muttering of what he hoped were suitably religious-sounding utterances, made broadly gestured crosses over anything that moved or looked like it might, and generally kept his head down. He’d always en
joyed those parts of his schemes that involved disguises. It appealed to the frustrated actor in him. Though he sometimes thought his whole life as the professional rebel had been his greatest role. Ruby just trudged along beside him, keeping her hands away from her concealed weapons and trying not to break into her usual long-legged stride. In her own way she was acting, too. Being quiet, calm, and subservient didn’t come at all naturally to her. Much as he loved her, Random had to admit Ruby wasn’t really what you’d call versatile. If you couldn’t hit it, steal it, or sleep with it, she was often lost for an alternative.

They finally reached the main exit that would let them out into the ceremony and came to a dead halt as a Church trooper in full armor blocked their way. He was almost as broad as he was tall, armed with gun and sword, and had the happily obstinate look of someone whose orders allowed him to push around people who would normally have been his superiors. Random crossed him twice, with dramatic sweeps of the hand, but the trooper remained unimpressed.

“Sorry, Father. You know the rules. No one to be admitted once the ceremony is underway. You’ll have to watch it on the viewscreens. Now, move on.”

Random gestured for the trooper to lean forward, waited until the man’s head was right next to his cowl, and said, very solemnly, “Did you know the Jesuits have their very own special handshake?” And he reached forward, grabbed the trooper’s balls in his hand, and scrunched them. The trooper’s eyes bulged, and though he sucked in air for a scream, he couldn’t seem to get it out again. He sank to his knees, and Ruby took off his helmet and clubbed him over the head with the butt of her gun. The trooper fell forward, and Random solemnly made the sign of the cross over his unconscious body. “I’d have made a great Mason,” he said wistfully.

They strolled unconcernedly out of the complex and took up a position on the edge of things. Kassar shot them a venomous glare for being late, but left it at that. Everyone else conspicuously ignored them. Daniel Wolfe was still making his speech. Badly. Random looked unobtrusively over at the rebel prisoners waiting for execution and scowled at the chains holding them in place. Heavy chains with thick steel links and blocky padlocks you couldn’t hope to pick with
anything less than a disrupter. Random’s scowl deepened. No one had mentioned chains.

On the other side of the crowd, Toby Shreck was also studying the prisoners, taking in the details. Many showed the blood and bruises of recent beatings. Even the children. All eyes were glazed from heavy-duty tranquilizers, so they wouldn’t be any trouble. Not enough to knock them out, of course. That would take all the fun out of the executions. Toby frowned and looked around as Daniel stopped speaking suddenly. His teleprompter had broken down, and Stephanie was glaring meaningfully at Toby. So, rather than have Daniel look like a complete divot because he didn’t know his own speech, Toby gestured for Flynn to shut down his camera. They’d blame it on technical difficulties later. And it might be handy to have the high-and-mighty Stephanie Wolfe owing them a favor. Flynn moved over to join Toby, and they both looked at the prisoners.

“I can’t believe they’re going to kill the children, too,” said Flynn. “I just wish there was something we could do.”

“There is,” said Toby quietly. “Once Daniel’s finally finished his speech, I’ll do an on-camera appeal for clemency, for the children, straight to the Empress.”

“You’ve got a good heart, chief,” said Flynn, “but it won’t work. Kassar’s got too much of his pride tied up in this, after his people got their heads handed to them down in the tunnels. He’ll just say this is a Church matter. No one messes with the Church these days. Not if they’re fond of breathing. And he’d probably have you executed, too, just for asking. No, boss, all we can do is film what happens and hope the audience’s hearts will be touched enough to stop him doing it again. I wouldn’t put money on it, though. They do so love their blood sports these days.”

“I used to be a big fan of the Arena,” said Toby. “Season ticket, good seat. But that was different. At least the gladiators had a fighting chance, mostly. This is just slaughter. And I’ve seen so much blood here. I don’t know, Flynn. I never thought of myself as political, but this …”

“There’s nothing we can do, boss. Just tough it out, do our job, and hope we end up somewhere more civilized for our next assignment.”

“I wanted to cover a war,” said Toby. “Because wars are where the stories are. I never expected anything like this.”

“No one ever does,” said Flynn. “That’s why we have to keep covering them.”

Someone got the teleprompter working again by kicking it somewhere sensitive. Flynn resumed filming. Daniel finished his speech, and everyone applauded politely. Daniel nodded to Kassar and stepped back to allow him to introduce the executions. The Cardinal faced the camera with a forbidding stare and smiled coldly.

“This day, 327 rebel prisoners will die, as an example to those who would stand against the authority of the established Church and Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Lionstone XIV. The majority will be electrocuted through their chains, but first their leaders will be beheaded, one by one, as retribution for all the Faithful who have died in the struggle here. Stand forward, executioners, and do your duty.”

“Oh-oh,” said Ruby. “He’s looking at us.”

“No wonder no one wanted to mess with us,” said Random.

“What are we going to do?”

“Walk forward very slowly and hope I come up with some plan before we get there.”

“It had better be a bloody good one.”

“It will, it will. I’m famous for my plans.”