Deathstalker Rebellion

"Right," said Stevie Three. "It doesn't help that they're fascinated with us. I've never seen anyone so interested in me who wasn't trying to get into my pants. Apparently, there were no esper clones around during their last lifetime. They keep asking us, very politely, if we'd like to visit their laboratories, but I have a strong suspicion they'd like to take us apart to see what makes us tick. Literally."

"You're probably right," said Owen. "They took away a number of Wampyr from the Empire force that came here, and we never saw any of them again."

"Oh, hell," said Stevie One. "Here comes another one."

A single Hadenman came striding purposefully toward them from the golden ship. He could have been one Owen had met before, or he might not. They all looked the same to him. Tall and perfectly muscled, the Hadenman's every movement was the epitome of grace, and his eyes glowed like the sun. Half man, half machine, more than both. And, like all his kind, extremely single-minded. The two Stevie Blues looked at each other. Stevie One produced a coin and tossed it.

"Heads," said Stevie Three while it was still in midair. Stevie One caught it and slapped it on the back of her hand. Stevie Three looked and scowled. "Damn."

"Your turn," said Stevie One, and they both turned to face the Hadenman with the same cold expression.

The augmented man came to a halt before them, poised and perfect, and when he spoke his buzzing voice was calm and very reasonable. "You must submit to examination. It is necessary that we understand the changes that have taken place in humanity during our absence."

"We don't do tests," said Stevie One.

"Right," said Stevie Three. Blue flames burst out all around her, licking along the lines of her body without harming her. Owen and Stevie One fell back a step, hands raised to protect their faces from the heat that shimmered in the air before them. The Hadenman stood his ground, apparently unaffected by the heat. Stevie Three smiled unpleasantly and turned up the heat another notch. Beads of sweat appeared on the Hadenman's expressionless face.

"So glad we had this little chat," said Stevie Three. "Now, get out of here or I'll weld your legs together."

The Hadenman considered the matter for a moment. Black scorch marks were beginning to appear on his simple cloth robe. And then he took a step forward, so he could stare right into Stevie Three's face. The light from his eyes was almost blinding at close range. "We will discuss this again at a future time."

"Yeah, right," said Stevie Three, fighting down an impulse to step back a pace herself. "Later."

The Hadenman turned unhurriedly away and walked off into the gleaming metal and glass city. Owen and the two Stevie Blues watched him go, and no one said anything until they were sure he was out of earshot. Owen turned to Stevie Three and fanned at the hot air between them with his hand.

"Do you think you could turn that down a little now? It's getting rather close around here."

"Sorry," said Stevie Three, and the leaping flames surrounding her snapped off as quickly as they'd arisen. "I can't believe we're allies with the augmented men. They're really not human, after all."

"There are those who say the same thing about us," said Stevie One.

"Not around me they don't," said Stevie Three. "You can't compare us to them. For all our differences, we were born, not made."

"Let's get to the meeting," said Stevie One diplomatically. "We're running late as it is. Will you be joining us, Deathstalker?"

"Soon," said Owen. "Don't wait for me."

The two esper clones nodded in the same way, at the same moment, and then their faces went blank as they contacted the Last Standing through their comm implants. They disappeared between one moment and the next, and there were two quick claps of thunder as air rushed in to fill the space where they'd been. Owen blinked respectfully. Teleportation like that took one hell of a lot of power, which was one reason it wasn't more commonly used in the Empire. Espers were cheaper and more easily controlled. Besides, it wouldn't do for something so useful to fall into the hands of the common herd. Rank had to have its privileges, or what was the point? Owen scowled. The Last Standing was using up a lot of power recently, and even its vast resources weren't bottomless. Still, that wasn't his problem. His problem was still somewhere in the Hadenman city, taking her own sweet time about getting back. He looked out over the gleaming city, glanced again at the watch face in his wrist, and swore quietly. He couldn't wait any longer. He'd have to go in and find her.

There was always the chance something had happened to her, but it wasn't likely. He'd have known. All of those who'd passed through the enigmatic alien structure known as the Madness Maze had emerged changed, in body and mind. They were linked together on a deep and fundamental level, a bond that could not be broken by anything now, least of all distance. He concentrated deep within himself, sinking down into the back brain, the undermind, and there were the others, looking back at him. Jack Random and Ruby Journey and his ancestor Giles were up in the Last Standing. Hazel was in the city, not far away. He narrowed in on her and fixed her location in the city. Not far away at all. Walking distance. All he had to do to find her was walk into the most alien and disturbing city he'd ever seen. Damn, he thought dispassionately. He squared his shoulders, checked his weapons were where they should be, and set off into the gleaming city.

The strangely shaped buildings and structures loomed up around him, closing him in, all of them lit from within by an unwavering silver glow that was subtly unnerving. It bothered him till he realized that for all the light, there were no shadows anywhere. Just the endless, unforgiving light. It felt cold upon his skin, like the caress of passing ghosts, and the unrelenting glare started a headache right behind his eyes. Or perhaps his head hurt because of the shapes around him. The dimensions were all wrong, distorted and unsettling on some fundamental level, like a triangle whose angles added up to more than one hundred and eighty degrees. Just another proof that the Hadenmen weren't human. No human could survive for long in this city without going crazy. So what could be so important to Hazel that it drove her into this unnatural city and kept her here when every human instinct in her must be screaming for her to leave?

It got colder the farther he pressed into the city, and the air grew thin, as though he was climbing a mountain into a more rarefied atmosphere. The air smelt of ozone and other chemicals he didn't recognize. There was a constant deep thudding, a sound so low and so quiet he felt it in his bones as much as heard it, a constant slow pulsing like the beat of a giant heart. There were Hadenmen everywhere he looked, working or operating unfamiliar machinery or walking unhurriedly down the wide streets. Some were just standing quietly, looking at nothing, as though waiting for instructions. None of them spoke; they were linked on a level beyond speech. No one turned to look at Owen as he passed, but he knew he was being watched. As long as he didn't touch anything or try and interfere with their work, he should be safe enough. Mostly, they were very respectful to the man who'd awakened them from their Tomb. They called him Redeemer and bowed to him, but Owen knew better than to try and take advantage of that. They were probably doing it only to mess with his head. He was human and they weren't, and if he got in the way or saw something he wasn't supposed to, Owen had no doubt the augmented men would strike him down as casually as a man might swat a bothersome fly. So he walked casually down the middle of the street, looking straight ahead, his back prickling from the pressure of countless watching eyes, and let his hand rest on his belt right next to his disrupter. And Hazel had better have a bloody good reason for being here…

Her found her down a side street, not hiding but not in plain sight, either. She was talking with a Hadenman and didn't look around as Owen approached. The augmented man handed her a small metal flask, which Hazel immediately made disappear about her person, and only then looked around to scowl at Owen. The Hadenman walked off in the opposite direction, not looking once in Owen's direction.

"What the hell are you doing here, aristo?" said Hazel in the coldest voice Owen had ever heard from her.

"I could ask you the same question," said Owen easily. "We're supposed to be attending a council meeting up on the Last Standing, remember? It'll look rather bad if we're not there; we are two of the guests of honor, after all."

Hazel shrugged. "You go. They don't need me. Planning's not what I do best."

"I had noticed. But they definitely want both of us. For PR as much as anything, to show our faces to potential supporters and backers. What were you and the Hadenman talking about?"

"Didn't you recognize him? That was Moon."

Owen looked quickly after the departing figure, but he was already gone, disappeared back into the anonymous host of Hadenmen. Owen looked back at Hazel. "No, I didn't recognize him. How did you find him; he looks the same as all the others now."

"He found me."

"Did… did he remember you?"

"Not really. He recognized me. You and I are part of all Hadenman programming. But Tobias Moon is gone. There's nothing left of the man we once knew." She shrugged briefly. "No big deal. We were never close."

Owen just nodded. It would only embarrass Hazel if he pushed her to admit she'd cared enough to seek Moon out in a city most people wouldn't have entered without a gun at their back. Hazel liked to think she was above such weaknesses as caring. "What was that flask he gave you?" he said finally, changing the subject.

"Don't question me, aristo. My business is my business. Now, let's go. We have a meeting to attend, remember?"

Women, thought Owen, though he had the sense not to say it aloud. All this, over a little expressed emotion. Heaven forbid that Hazel d'Ark should be seen to be anything but the strong, unyielding pirate with a heart of solid stone. He gestured for her to lead the way, and they set off back through the Hadenman city. None of the augmented men they passed looked up from what they were doing.

"They're going to have to work to make this a tourist spot," said Hazel. "No bars, no sights, and the atmosphere's terrible."

"Right," said Owen. "Maybe a petting zoo would help."

"I doubt it. They'd probably put people in it." Hazel paused and glanced sideways at Owen. "Does it bother you that they're all being so nice and reasonable? I mean, these people, and I use the term loosely, used to be the official Enemies of Humanity. It used to be that if a human saw a Hadenman, it was the last thing he ever saw. Why are they helping us with the rebellion? What's in it for them?"

"Dead humans, I expect. The old divide-and-conquer bit. They get to see the Empire fall and refine their fighting abilities at the same time. We'll just have to keep a close watch on our backs and make sure Haden doesn't get too powerful again. We can't do without them, Hazel. They're all we've got to throw against the Empire's armies."

"And what if they're just going along with us to discover all our weak spots, so they can take us out once we've knocked over the Empire?"

"Then, you and I will have to step in and save the day," said Owen calmly. "That's our job, remember? We're the heroes here."

"Yeah," said Hazel. "Heroes."

They teleported up into the great Hall of the Last Standing to find everyone else had got there before them. The Hall itself was huge, bigger even than the Hall in Owen's own Standing back on Virimonde, but it was still crowded from wall to wall with holos of politely chatting people. Everyone with an interest in rebellion had sent hologram representatives, if only to make sure they weren't left out of anything important. Owen and Hazel were stuck out on the fringe, for which Owen at least was grateful. He wanted to get some idea of what kind of bear pit he was stepping into before he opened his mouth. He looked around him unobtrusively, but the sea of faces were mostly unfamiliar. Quite a few seemed awed by the sheer size of the Hall, though they were all doing their best not to show it. Owen smiled slightly. They should be grateful they were in the Hall. The Hadenmen had wanted the meeting to take place in their city, but the humans turned that down very quickly, on the grounds that the city was just too bloody disturbing. There wasn't much the five humans agreed on, but the city was quite definitely one of them. Giles in particular had been very firm. He was convinced the Hadenmen were doing a great deal more than just rebuilding their city; that they were up to things no human could hope to understand. Either way, they all agreed it would be in everyone's best interests to maintain a safe distance between potential backers and the augmented men. The Hadenmen had insisted on sending a representative, in person, and people were keeping a safe distance from him, too. It didn't seem to bother him. He held a glass of wine in his hand but didn't drink from it, and smiled politely at anyone who passed. It wasn't a particularly successful smile, but not bad for a Hadenman. Maybe he'd been practicing with a mirror.

There were hundreds of holos from every corner of the Empire, their signals bounced through a confusing series of relays, courtesy of the cyberats on Golgotha. Anyone trying to listen in would go crazy following the signals from relay to relay without ever catching up. Many of the representatives had been drawn by Jack Random's name. The legendary professional rebel was still a powerful symbol, even though his defeats far outweighed his successes. The man himself was holding court in the center of the Hall, smiling broadly, with a word for everyone. Ruby Journey stood at his side, ready to snarl at anyone who got too close.

And yet it had to be said a great many people were shocked at seeing Jack's present condition. The years and the defeats had not been kind to him, and his time in the hands of the Empire mind techs and torturers had left their mark on him, too. The legend of Jack Random had spread throughout the Empire, but that was mostly based on propaganda holos he'd circulated during his earlier, more successful days. That was then, this was now, and Jack didn't look like a hero anymore.

He was a short, slight man in his late forties, who looked twenty years older. He had a thin lined face topped by ragged gray hair that looked like he cut it himself. He'd been muscular once, but the best you could call him now was wiry. His hands had liver spots on the back, and they trembled constantly. He didn't look like a legendary fighter and warrior anymore. He looked more like an old man up well past his bedtime.

Ruby Journey, on the other hand, looked like sudden death on two legs, with a glare to match. She'd been the best bounty hunter on Mistworld, which took some doing, and most people were giving her even more room than the Hadenman. They were perfectly safe, as holos, but somehow they only had to look at Ruby to find pressing reasons to be somewhere else. She was medium height, lithely muscled, wearing shiny black leathers under grubby white furs. She wore sword and gun on her hips, and no one had any doubts she knew how to use them. Her face was pale and pointed, with dark unwavering eyes and a fierce smile, under a helmet of short dark hair. She wasn't pretty, but she was attractive in a dark and very dangerous way. Jack Random was winning bonus points for just being so relaxed in her company.

Owen and Hazel moved unhurriedly through the crowd, smiling and bowing and saying hello, glad you could make it, while trying to sound like they meant it. They also tried their best not to walk through people, but it was very crowded. Owen had more experience in diplomacy and lying with a straight face, so he made a rather better impression than Hazel, but he gave her credit for at least trying. She wasn't the most sociable of people at the best of times, and of late she'd been more reserved and generally snappy than ever. Owen had tried to ask her tentatively if anything was wrong, but her cold glare kept him at a distance, along with everyone else. Presumably she was still mad about being trapped on a bleak and empty world light-years from anywhere civilized. Hazel liked her comforts and wasn't particularly interested in politics. If you couldn't drink it, eat it, or pick a fight with it, Hazel usually couldn't care less. They finally finished their rounds and returned to the small self-service bar Giles had thoughtfully set up in a corner. Owen leaned an elbow on the bar and sighed. His cheeks ached. He hadn't done so much smiling in years. Hazel allowed him to pour her a large one and scowled out at the crowd.

"Do you recognize any of these people?" she said quietly. "I'd hate to think I was putting on this show for a bunch of nobodies."

"I know some of them," said Owen, and then paused to raise an appreciative eyebrow at the excellent vintage in his glass. The Standing must have a superb wine cellar somewhere. Hazel gulped at hers like it was a cheap claret. Owen hid a wince and continued. "There's a handful of lesser Lords, representatives of several Clans and business interests, and a few minor heroes. No one in Jack Random's class, but it's good they came. It means we're being taken seriously. Hello, look over there. You know who that is, don't you?"

"Damn right I do," said Hazel. "That's Investigator Topaz, from Mistworld. The only major-league esper ever to become an Investigator. The most powerful Siren the Empire ever knew. When she went rogue and made a run for Mistworld, they sent a whole company of marines after her, and she killed them all with a single song. She practically saved Mistworld single-handed when Imperial agents smuggled Typhoid Mary past the planet's defenses. Never met her personally, and I can't say I'm sorry. She's supposed to be cold as ice and twice as deadly. I feel rather outclassed."

"Don't," said Owen. "She came to us, remember?"

"Good point," said Hazel. "But we'd better keep Ruby away from her. Just in case."

They both looked around sharply as someone called Owen's name, and a holo figure approached them, smiling widely. Dressed in brilliant silks color-matched to within an inch of their lives, he looked fat and prosperous and very pleased with himself. He bounced to a halt in front of them, bowed to Owen, and smiled and nodded to Hazel. "Owen, dear boy; so good to see you again."

"I might have known you'd be here," said Owen. "Never were one to miss an opportunity, were you, Elias? Hazel d'Ark, allow me to present to you Elias Gutman, adventurer and profiteer, a rotten branch from a distinguished tree. His Family sends him money regularly as long as he promises not to come home. He worked with my father on some of his dirtier deals, to raise money for his intrigues."

"Very dirty but very profitable deals," said Gutman still smiling. "Glad to see you're finally following in your father's footsteps. My colleagues and I expect great things from you."

"My father has nothing to do with why I'm here," said Owen, and Hazel flicked him a glance as she heard the ice in his voice. "I'm fighting for my own reasons, and I'll choose my own friends and allies. Let me tell you about Elias Gutman, Hazel. He has a hand in every crooked and corrupt business deal on half the planets in the Empire. No trade's too dirty for him to take a cut, and the only laws he hasn't broken are the ones he hasn't got around to yet. He makes his money from the suffering of others, and he probably has as much blood on his hands as Lionstone herself."

Gutman laughed richly. "You flatter me, dear boy, you do. I'm just a businessman with an eye for a profit. Your father never objected."

"I'm not my father," said Owen.

"I'm glad to hear it. The dear fellow was always too idealistic for his own good—bless me he was. He never could remember the first rule of business: never let a principle get in the way of profit. There's always a good deal of money to be made in times of war, and I intend to have my fair share and more. Do try not to get caught underfoot, Owen; you might find that I and my kind are more of an asset to the rebellion than you are. Financial backing is hard to come by, but there's never a shortage of people foolish enough to be heroes."

He smiled, bowed, and walked away while Owen was still trying to come up with an answer that would crush him. Owen stood fuming for a moment, and then let out his breath in a long sigh. He'd never been any good at repartee. He only ever thought of the perfect answer hours later, when it was too late. But there was no point in getting angry this early in the proceedings. He had no doubt there'd be much more important things for him to get angry about once the council was brought to order, and the real wheeling and dealing began.

He muttered something to Hazel about recognizing someone, and set off through the crowd. He needed some time to himself for a moment. Familiar faces came and went around him as he passed through the chattering holo images, like the only living man at a feast of ghosts. People nodded and smiled at him, but he pretended not to notice. He wasn't in the mood to play politics. And then an unexpected face caught his attention, and he paused for a moment to watch the man with the tattooed face talking to Giles. Apparently, Investigator Topaz wasn't the only representative from Mistworld. Owen had met the man called Chance before, at the Abraxus Information Center in Mistport, where young espers overhead everything and would tell you—for the right price. One of those espers claimed to have seen Owen's future.

You will tumble an Empire, see the end of everything you ever believed in, and you'll do it all for a love you'll never know. And when it's over, you'll die alone, far from friends and succor.

Owen felt cold suddenly, as though someone had just walked over his grave. Would he live to see the end of the rebellion he was starting? Would running away from his destiny change anything? Owen shrugged uncomfortably. Honor and belief had brought him this far and would take him farther; he was a part of the rebellion now, whatever the cost. And Chance had admitted the espers' predictions were wrong as often as they were right. But even if he'd had solid proof that he would die, Owen still wouldn't change anything he'd done or had planned to do. He'd seen the rotten underside of the Empire and how the suffering of the many supported the opulence of the few; and having seen it, he couldn't look away. He had become, something to his surprise, a man of honor. And who knew; maybe he was a hero, too. Either way, he'd see Lionstone brought down before he died. Whatever it took.

Hazel d'Ark watched Owen make his way through the crowd and clenched her teeth so her mouth wouldn't tremble. She crossed her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, her hands squeezed into fists. The need was greater than ever now, and it was beginning to gnaw at her self-control. She was glad Owen was gone. She didn't know how much longer she'd have been able to hide it from him. She looked around her as casually as she could, but no one seemed to be paying her any attention. She made herself uncross her arms and concentrated on keeping her hands steady while she poured herself a fresh glass of wine. And then it was very easy to take out the metal flask the Hadenman had given her, unscrew the cap, and pour just a drop of Blood into the wine.

She screwed the cap tight on the flask and put it away again. No one had noticed. And if they had, they wouldn't have understood what they were seeing. She was safe. For the moment. She looked down at the wine in her glass. It looked innocent enough, the drop of Blood already diffusing into the alcohol. She swirled the wine in the glass to encourage the process, and then she couldn't wait any longer. She took a large gulp and then smiled widely as the warmth of it flooded down into her chest. Blood was potent stuff, and even so small a trace was enough to ease the aching need within her. She made herself drink the rest of the wine slowly, and a warm glow of well-being spread through her. Her grin widened. She felt strong and confident and ready to take on the whole damn Empire. More important, she felt human again. Or as human as anyone could be when she were addicted to Wampyr Blood.

The Wampyr, the adjusted men, were supposed to be the Empire's new shock troops to replace the rebellious Hadenmen. To make a Wampyr you took an ordinary man, killed him by pumping the blood right out of him, and then refilled him with artificial Blood, which revived him. The result was much stronger and faster than an ordinary man, and a hell of a lot harder to kill. They were also difficult to control and more trouble than they were worth. So the project was reluctantly discontinued. But by then some people had discovered another use for the Blood. It gave you a better high, a more orgasmic glow, then any other drug known to man. It made you superhuman, like the Wampyr, for short periods. And after it wore off, you'd do anything to feel that way again. Blood was addictive.

Hazel had first encountered it on the rebel planet Mistworld. She ended up in a relationship she preferred not to remember, with a rogue Wampyr called Abbott, and he introduced her to the dark joys of Blood. She broke off the relationship, but breaking free from the Blood addiction took longer. It almost killed her. She succeeded, eventually, perhaps because she wouldn't be anyone's slave; not even her own. But now she was back in its grip again, and it was all Owen's fault. He'd made her a part of the rebellion and never even noticed as she began to break under the pressure of constant flight and danger, and the high expectations of others. Finally, it all got too much, and she just broke under the weight of it. She'd never been strong. She'd always needed a little something to support her, whether it was booze or drugs or shitty relationships.

She'd thought she'd go crazy on the Wolfling World, with nothing to ease her mind, until she remembered that the Hadenmen had taken control of the handful of Wampyr prisoners the Empire force left behind. The Hadenmen had been fascinated by their intended replacements and took them deep into their city for examination. They were never seen again.

So Hazel went into the city to see the Hadenmen and bluntly raised the subject of Blood. The augmented men were very understanding. They let her have all the Blood she wanted, a little at a time, and never once mentioned a price. Hazel had no doubt they eventually would, but for the moment she couldn't bring herself to give a damn or even question where the Blood came from. The Blood made the pressure go away, and that was all that mattered. For a while she thought the boost she obtained from Owen might work as a substitute, but it didn't last long enough and had its own dangers. Typical of Owen. Always let you down when you really needed him. She knew that wasn't true even as she thought it, but didn't care. She needed someone to blame apart from herself. For the moment no one knew about her problem but the Hadenmen, who had promised to keep it to themselves. Eventually, the truth would come out, but that was the future, and these days it took everything Hazel had just to deal with the present.

The meeting finally lurched to a start under the chairmanship of Jack Random. He stood on a small raised stage so everyone could see him and just started talking loudly and clearly. He might not look very impressive, but his voice cracked like a whip, and he still had the gift of words combined with a natural authority. Voices in the crowd died away to an expectant hush as Random thanked them all for coming, introduced himself and some of the more prominent faces, and then threw open the floor for discussion. And not very surprisingly, the first to raise his voice was Elias Gutman.

"Before we begin, my dear friends, might I take this occasion to point out that the rebellion's raid on the Tax and Tithe Headquarters turned out to be an unmitigated disaster? Because of us, Golgotha's shields were down when the alien ship arrived, and now everyone blames us for the damage and loss of life it caused! It's going to be even harder now than it was before to gain popular support for our cause."

"That's not fair!" Hazel said quickly. "We had no way of knowing the alien ship was coming. We did everything we were asked to, at great risk to ourselves, I might add, and achieved everything that was required of us. If you don't think that's good enough, feel free to lead the next attack yourself!"

"Right," said Owen. "Look on the bright side. The Tax and Tithe systems are now a complete mess, and likely to stay that way for years. And we now have billions of new credits in our secret accounts. That money will fund the forthcoming rebellion. Whatever happens next, we made it possible, and don't you forget it, you ungrateful little toad."

"Let's keep the name-calling to a minimum, shall we?" Random said quickly. "Otherwise this meeting will never get started, never mind finished. I think we can all agree that the Golgotha mission was a qualified success, in that we achieved the aims we set ourselves. We'll just have to plan things a little more carefully in the future, to allow for… unexpected complications. For now, the credits that raid contained are already being used to establish rebel bases and undergrounds on planets throughout the Empire. Those credits will also buy us ships, weapons, and if need be, mercenary armies. I'm sure that must stick in the craw of some of you, but the fact remains that we're going to need an army of trained soldiers to face off against Lionstone's forces. The Hadenmen have very kindly promised us their full support in the field, but I think we'd all feel happier not being reliant on their goodwill. Don't forget it takes time and expertise to turn fighters into trained soldiers. I know, I've done it before, many times.

"The aliens… are an unknown factor. We'll deal with them as and when the situation arises. We have to concentrate on the enemy we know. We're not exactly without weapons of our own; two esper clones have come to us as representatives of the Golgotha underground. They speak for an army of battle-trained espers and clones, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Investigator Topaz is here to speak for Mistworld. I'm sure I don't need to tell you who she is or remind you of the rebel planet's strength. They're an army in themselves. If we can just get them all pointed in the same direction."

There were quite a few muffled chuckles at that. Mistworld's population were well-known to spend as much time fighting each other as they did the Empire. But what else would you expect from a planet populated almost exclusively by crooks, rebels, and political subversives? The chuckles died quickly away as Topaz looked icily about her. Random cleared his throat, and Owen noted approvingly that the packed crowd was hanging on Random's every word. His old confidence was returning as he warmed to his task, and he was looking and sounding more like the legendary professional rebel he was supposed to be. His old friend Alexander Storm was standing at his side, nodding agreement with everything Random said. There had been much happiness and back-slapping when the two old comrades in arms got together again, and Storm had stuck close to Random ever since, showing everyone that Random had the tacit support of the Golgotha underground. Interestingly, Ruby Journey hadn't warmed to Storm at all, for all his charm. Of course, it could just be she was jealous of anyone who drew Random's affection and attention away from her. Owen had to smile at that. He was still having trouble understanding what the hell Ruby and Jack saw in each other, but they seemed happy enough together. Certainly, they were doing better than he was with Hazel. Owen decided firmly that he wasn't going to think about that for the moment. Hopefully, Storm would find some way to strike a truce with Ruby, or he was likely to end up with a knife in his back. Or even his front. Ruby Journey could be very direct when it came to expressing her feelings.

"This all sounds very fine," said Elias Gutman, moving forward through the crowd so that he could fix Random with an implacable glare. "But we still haven't discussed exactly who is going to run things in this new rebellion. We've all come here with separate needs and differing agendas, and while we all want the same thing in the end, someone is going to have to decide which path we'll take to get there. My associates and I have been plotting treason and sedition for decades, and we're not about to take a backseat to a few jumped-up newcomers, just because they've had a few flashy successes. In particular, we are not willing to be led by an old man whose best days are behind him. You're the past, Random, and we have to look to the future. For all your legend, the fact is you failed to overthrow the Empire time and time again. The new rebellion needs more for its leader than an old man with failing charisma."

Random looked calmly back at the fat man, unmoved by any of the insults. "Hello, Elias; good to see you again, too. How are the hemorrhoids? You've been conspiring in the shadows almost as long as I've been leading armies in the field, but I don't see that you've been any more successful than I. For all your great intrigues and grand plans, Lionstone still sits on the Iron Throne. I remember you as a boy, Elias. Whatever happened to you; you had such promise. I remember your father, too. A good and honorable man. It's a good thing he's dead, so he can't see what his son has become."

"Of course he's dead," said Gutman. "I killed him. That is the traditional way to wealth and power, after all. The old must always make way for the new. So get down off that platform and make way for a better man."

"Certainly," said Random. "Know any?"

There were a few chuckles in the crowd, and Gutman's face flushed slightly. "Clever words won't save you this time, Random. I represent a number of people who have their own ideas as to how this new rebellion should be run. We've invested years of our lives in the struggle for freedom from tyranny, and we're not prepared to waste any more time listening to an old relic with older ideas."

He broke off as Ruby Journey stepped forward to glare down at him. "You, behave yourself, or you're out of here."

"And just how do you intend to remove me?" said Gutman, smiling smugly. "After all, I'm just a holo image. Your well-known propensity for violence is no use to you here. I have a great deal more to say, and there's nothing you or that old fool can do to stop me."

"Want to bet?" said Ruby. She produced a small device from her pocket, pointed it at Gutman, and smiled nastily as his holo image collapsed and disappeared. She scowled out over the crowd, and they stirred uneasily. "Handy little gadget, this. The Hadenmen made it for me. So pay attention, people; keep a civil tongue in your head, if you want to be heard."

"Think of Ruby as my sergeant at arms," said Random. "And be very grateful none of you are here in person. Ruby has a very effective way of dealing with people who annoy her, and it takes ages to mop up the blood afterward. Now then, where was I?"

"You were talking about how the new rebellion is to be fought," said David Deathstalker, stepping forward with his friend Kit SummerIsle at his side. Nobody had been that surprised when they turned up again. "The answer seems obvious to me. According to you, my ancestor the original Deathstalker is back, along with his Darkvoid Device. So all we have to do is demonstrate its power, to prove to Lionstone we have it, and then tell her to step down or we'll use the Device on Golgotha. That way, there'd be no need for any actual war."

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple," said Random. "Giles, would you explain, please?"

The original Deathstalker stepped up onto the platform beside Random, and the crowd stirred and murmured as they got their first good look at a man whose legend was even greater than Random's. He was tall but sparsely built, though his bare arms were thick with muscle. He looked to be in his early fifties, with a solid lined face, and a silver-gray goatee beard. His long gray hair was swept back in a mercenary's scalplock, and he wore a set of battered, shapeless furs, held in at the waist by a wide leather belt. He wore thick golden armlets and heavy metal rings on his fingers. A long sword hung down his back in a leather scabbard, and on his hip he bore a large gun of unfamiliar design. All in all, he looked like an experienced and very dangerous barbarian warrior from some frontier world where law and civilization were only memories. And not at all like the legendary Warrior Prime of the First Empire. The murmuring in the crowd grew louder and didn't entirely stop when he began to speak.

"The last time I used the Darkvoid Device, a thousand suns were put out in a moment. All their worlds and populations died, cold and alone in the dark. The Device is not a weapon you can fine tune. If I trigger it again, in the heart of the Empire, most of the Empire will disappear along with Golgotha."

It got very quiet in the Hall. David frowned. "We don't have to actually use it, just threaten to."

"Threats work only if you're prepared to back them up," said Random. "Lionstone would know we were bluffing. We want to free the Empire, not destroy it. Besides, just threatening to use the Device would alienate practically everyone in the Empire. Instead of supporting our rebellion, they'd be screaming for Lionstone to wipe us all out as dangerously insane terrorists. The best we can do is make sure the Device stays out of Lionstone's hands. She wouldn't hesitate to use it if she thought she was losing."

There was more murmuring in the crowd, this time of agreement. Giles stepped down off the platform, so as not to draw attention away from Random. David scowled after his ancient ancestor. "If we're worrying about what people are going to think, maybe we ought to keep certain people out of the spotlight. If that is the original Deathstalker, he's not going to win any prizes for charisma. People will take one look at him on their holoscreens and think we're a bunch of savages. We have to put ourselves across as a viable, civilized alternative to Lionstone."

"Right," said the SummerIsle. "It's important we project the right image. Certain people could only damage that image. I should know. As I understand it, Ruby Journey was a paid assassin, and the d'Ark woman used to be a clonelegger."

"Hell, that's nothing," said Owen easily. "I used to be a Lord. There's room for all sorts in this rebellion, SummerIsle: clones, espers, even privileged aristos like us."

"At least we're human," said David. "What about that… thing?" He gestured angrily at the single Hadenman representative, standing quietly in his corner, saying nothing and observing everything. David's face twisted with disgust and anger. "I can't believe we're even considering an alliance with the Hadenmen. They're machines, not people. How do we know they're not tied in with the rogue AIs on Shub? They'd have a lot in common. After all, they've both been officially named Enemies of Humanity."

"Maybe we should consider an alliance with Shub," the Hadenman said calmly. "We've all seen the reports of the Fury at Court. They're willing to fight alongside us against the aliens."

"Only someone as inhuman as you would even suggest that," said Hazel coldly. "They're opposed to everything that makes us human. They don't want to fight alongside us; they want to rule us and use us as their army."

"Right," said Owen. "Shub is going too far. How could we ever trust them?"

"How can we trust the Hadenmen?" said David.

Owen studied his cousin thoughtfully, and Random stepped quickly in before the pause got too long. "Two reasons. Firstly, we can get at the Hadenmen. They're gathered in one city on one planet, and we know where it is. They haven't been awake long. They're vulnerable, and they know it. Secondly, there is a fundamental difference between the augmented men and the rogue AIs. The Hadenmen just want to change us into beings like themselves. Shub wants to destroy us utterly: to wipe us out of existence as though we'd never been. For the moment we stand to gain more from an alliance with the Hadenmen than we would by fighting them. Try thinking of them as a necessary evil, like dentists."

"I'm not convinced," said David stubbornly. "If we have to accept Hadenmen, then we'll have no choice but to accept espers and clones. This is supposed to be a human Empire. What's the point in overthrowing Lionstone if it means letting the genetic dregs and freaks have a say in our councils?"

"We want more than just a say," said Stevie One sharply. "We demand full citizenship for clones and espers as the price for our support. Otherwise we'll go our own way, fight our own rebellion, and our war will go on until either you or we are extinct."

"Right," said Stevie Three. She held up a clenched fist, around which blue flames crackled menacingly.

"Put that out, or I'll turn on the sprinklers," said Random calmly. Stevie Three hesitated and then the flames went out, and she lowered her hand. "Honestly," said Random. "You can't take her anywhere. Let's not get distracted, people. If we allow old fears and hatreds to divide us, we're beaten before we begin. What we have in common is more important than what separates us. It is in all our interests to remove Lionstone from the Iron Throne. We can decide exactly what we're going to replace her with afterward. That very discussion will be the beginning of our new democracy."

Spontaneous applause broke out in several parts of the crowd, but there were just as many who didn't join in. They were all willing to listen, but as yet they weren't convinced or of one mind on anything.

"I'm still worried about the aliens," said Evangeline Shreck. "They're not just rumors anymore. One ship on its own shot the hell out of Golgotha's main starport. And that's just one unknown species. There are supposed to be two. What if they joined together against humanity? It could be that the aliens are a bigger threat to us than Lionstone could ever be."

"Then, we'd better get the rebellion over with before they get here," said Giles. "With the Empire divided as it is now, it couldn't hope to withstand a concerted attack by two alien species of unknown strength and origin. It is necessary that we all become united in a common cause. And since Lionstone would never agree to that, it is vital she be removed from the Iron Throne while there is still time."

"Everyone knows your legend," said Finlay Campbell, studying Giles thoughtfully. "They teach it in the schools, and practically every other year there's a new holoscreen drama based on some part of your adventurous life. You were the first Warrior Prime, nine hundred years ago. You embodied all that was best in the old Empire. So how can we be sure your heart is with us, and not, deep down, with the Iron Throne and the Empire you risked your life for so many times all those years ago?"

"The Empire I remember and believed in is long gone," said Giles Deathstalker. "And despite what your holoscreens may have told you, the rot was setting in even then. I tried to stop it, but I was only one man, even if I was the Warrior Prime. In the end all I could do was run for my life. I look at what the Empire has become now, and I barely recognize it. Lionstone's Empire is a travesty of what it was meant to be. The dream has become a nightmare. And we're the wake-up call. It's not too late. We can change things if we work together."

"Stirring words," said Finlay Campbell. "But exactly what kind of changes are we talking about here? There's no point in risking all our lives to overthrow Lionstone, just to replace her with someone equally bad. The whole system is corrupt. I say we throw it all out and start over. I've seen things… that can't be allowed to go on. I speak for the Golgotha underground, and we demand universal suffrage, a Parliament that represents all the people, including clones and espers, and a strictly constitutional monarch. And a free pardon for all political prisoners."

"Right," said Stevie Three. "Tear down Silo Nine and put an end to all experiments on clones and espers."

"And break the power of the Families," said Jack Random. "Between them, the Clans control all the means of production. The new Government must disband the Clans, and seize control of their assets. Bring them all down, and let them work for a living like the rest of us."

"Hold everything," said Owen hotly. "I am still loyal to the Iron Throne, even if the current occupant isn't fit to rule. What we need to do is put someone saner and more responsible on the Throne. Then we can work with that person to introduce sensible democratic reforms, as needed. Just because bad people are in charge at the moment doesn't mean it's a bad system."

"Yes it does," said Hazel. "It's the system that produces bad people. Jack's right, tear it all down. Give everyone a chance."

Owen glared at her. "You just want chaos. How can things be run efficiently if no one knows their place?"

"You just want your old life back," snapped Hazel. "You want to be back in your ivory tower, safe and cosseted and protected from reality by a small army of servants, ready to satisfy your every whim when you snap your fingers. To hell with that, aristo. If this rebellion's about anything, it's about giving everyone a chance at the good life."

"And equal rights for clones and espers," said Stevie One.

"New market possibilities," said Gregor Shreck.

"And a chance for some good looting and pillaging," said Ruby Journey.

"Let's not get distracted again," Random said firmly. "First we get Lionstone off the Throne, then we can argue about what we're going to replace her with. There's room in the rebellion for many voices. For now, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, or at least my ally. The overall purpose of this rebellion is to create a unified Empire that can turn its resources against the coming aliens, instead of pissing them away fighting each other. We can set about political debate once we've ensured there will be a future to discuss it in. Now, let's move on, please. We still have to settle the question of financial backing for the rebellion. Armed conflicts cost money. Lots of it. Our raid on the Golgotha Tax Headquarters has netted us billions of credits, carefully laundered and scattered through thousands of secret accounts, but all that will do is get us started. We have to build rebel Bases and equip them with ships, computers, and weapons. Undergrounds have to be established and maintained. Soldiers must be trained, agents infiltrated, and politicians bribed to look the other way. Never underestimate the importance of carefully placed bribes. All of this needs a steady flow of incoming funds, maintained over a long period. Which is why some of you were invited here today. Please make yourselves known, gentlemen."

"About time you got around to us," said Gregor Shreck, a satisfied smile on his broad face. "Political rhetoric is all very well, but it won't buy you guns. It's people like me who'll decide whether this rebellion gets off the ground. I am ready to offer the full, if covert, support of my Clan, in return for future concessions."

"What kind of future concessions?" said Owen suspiciously.

The Shreck spread his fat hands. "That's what we're here to discuss."

"I thought you and your people were in bed with the established Church these days?" said Finlay Campbell.

"I am," said Gregor. "Officially. But they're not proving the ally I'd hoped for. They're far too fond of giving orders, and their restrictions on my private life are becoming offensively impertinent. I hope for greater rewards from the rebellion. And I am, after all, following in my dear daughter's footsteps. How is life in the underground, Evie dear? You never write."

"Very pleasant, Father," said Evangeline evenly. "I'm much happier now there's so much less pressure in my life."

"But you'd be so much happier if you were to come home again," said Gregor. "Back with your dear father's love. Your friends miss you, too. Remember dear little Penny? The two of you were so close before she ended up in Silo Nine. Unfortunately, she wasn't as careful at keeping secrets as you were. You tried to rescue her and failed. But I got her out. I have connections, you see, people who can get me what I want. Now Penny lives with me and loves me as you used to. Come home, Evie. Without your support, I don't know how much longer I can protect Penny. You wouldn't want anything to happen to her, would you?"

"Leave her alone!" said Finlay, stepping forward to put himself between Evangeline and her father. "I know what you're trying to do. You want to force Evie to come home, so you can split us up. I know you mistreated her. Evie won't talk about it, but I know you hurt her. So you leave her alone, you bastard, or I'll kill you. The rebellion can get by without the support of scum like you."

"Can it?" said Gregor. "I think you'll find your superiors in the underground will feel rather differently about it. What's one person against a Clan's fortune? And I will have my Evie back. If that turns out to be over your dead body, Campbell, so much the better."

"You're a dead man, Shreck!" said Finlay, his voice flat and harsh.

"Put your dog on a leash, Evie," Gregor said calmly. "Or I'll have him muzzled. Remember, the rebellion needs me."

"I would have to agree," said Jack Random. "We're gathered here to discuss the future of humanity, not your personal problems. Sort that out on your own time. But Finlay, the Cause comes first. Always. Remember that."

"Don't lecture me," said Finlay. "I have sworn a death oath to bring Lionstone down, sworn upon my name and my honor. I'll fight and if need be die for the Cause. But sooner or later there will come a time when the rebellion no longer needs the Shreck's support. And then I'll kill him."

"You'll always need me," said Gregor. "Weren't you listening? Overthrowing Lionstone is just the first step. The real struggle for power and influence will take place after that. There's always a need for people like me. And who knows; just maybe the price of my future support will be Evie's return, and your head on a spike."

"In your dreams, little man," said Finlay. "We're fighting this rebellion to get rid of people like you. Right, Random?"

"Shut the hell up, both of you!" Random glared from Finlay to Gregor and back again. "Play dominance games on your own time. The longer this meeting continues, the more likely it is the Empire will discover us. Now, does anyone else want to speak in support of the Cause?"

"I offer the support of Clan Deathstalker," said David, smiling coldly at Owen. "I am the Lord of Virimonde, and its resources can be placed at the rebellion's disposal. We're a long way out from the center. It'll be some time before they notice anything."

"Virimonde's only yours till I come to take it back," said Owen. "Don't make yourself too comfortable, David. You aren't going to be there long."

"You have no right to anything there, whatever happens in the rebellion," said David. "I'm the Deathstalker now, and you're nobody. I will defend what's mine against all enemies."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," said Owen, smiling coldly. "As I recall, the Lordship of Virimonde is part of the price on my head. All someone has to do is kill me, and Lionstone will make him Lord of Virimonde. Your Standing's built on sand, David. And the tide's coming in."

"If the rebellion wants the continuous food and supplies my planet can provide, they will acknowledge me as the rightful Lord, now and hereafter," said David. "No one individual is greater than the cause. Right, Random?"

"Yes," said Random. "I'm sorry, Owen."

David smiled smugly at Owen. "All traces of your brief reign have been removed. Soon, no one will remember you were ever Lord. It isn't as though you made much of an impact on the place. Hidden away in your Standing, writing histories no one ever read. I, on the other hand, have great plans for Virimonde. I'll make the name Deathstalker great again."

Owen seethed silently. The thought of this young usurper living in his Standing, sleeping in his bed, and drinking the best wines from his cellar drove him almost to apoplexy, but somehow he kept his peace. Much as he hated to admit it, Random was right. The rebellion had to take preference over a personal quarrel. He was still searching for something diplomatic to say when Giles stepped forward, fixing David with an implacable stare.

"The Deathstalker name has always been great, boy. You just have to live up to the rest of us. If you want to prove yourself, do it on the field of battle, as Deathstalkers always have. In the meantime, you and Owen make peace. You're Family. You're bound together by blood and honor and nine hundred years of tradition. You're both my children, in every way that matters, and I won't have you at daggers drawn. Now, make your peace or I'll bang your heads together."

Owen had to smile. The original Deathstalker had a way of getting to the heart of things. Family was more important than politics, and always would be. Causes come and go, politics mutate and evolve, but the Family goes on. He nodded brusquely to David.

"I don't want to see you dead, David. I doubt very much we're ever going to like each other, but you're still Family. Just remember that although you currently have everything I had, the Iron Bitch can take it away from you in a moment, just like she took it from me. Watch your back. And watch your own security people, too. They were the first to turn on me when I was outlawed. See me afterward, and I'll tell you about a way out they don't know about."

"Thanks for the advice," said David. "I'll bear it in mind." He looked back at Jack Random. "Kit SummerIsle and I represent a great many others of our generation: younger sons who'll never inherit and are… impatient with the way things are. Many of them have made careers in the army and the fleet, and they might just throw in their lot with the rebellion if they were offered the right incentives."

"Talk to them," said Random. "But be careful what you promise. None of us can look too far into the future at this point."

And then he broke off as a group of six men moved purposefully through the crowd toward him, their hologram signals so strong they forced all others aside. People cursed and spluttered, but the six men ignored them. They were tall and willowy, albinos with milk-white skin and hair and bloodred eyes. They wore long robes of swirling colors, and their faces had been savagely ritually scarred. Everyone knew who they were, who they had to be. The Blood Runners were infamous in deed and legend. They were based in the Obeah systems, a small group of planets out on the Rim, united by a dark and ancient religion based on blood and suffering and possession by deceased ancestors. Murderous fanatics, and proud of it. They were branded as heretics by the established Church long ago, but no one did anything about it. The Blood Runners had a hand in every dirty and illegal trade in the Empire, and their reach was very long. They dealt in everything from Wampyr Blood to clonelegging to slavery, and bowed their pale heads to no one. They came to a halt before Random, who studied them thoughtfully.

"Wonderful," he said finally. "More complications. What the hell are you doing here? You weren't on the guest list. Hell, you people aren't on anybody's guest list. If you turned up at a funeral, the corpse would walk out on you. In case I'm not hinting strongly enough, get the hell out of here, before we have to have the place fumigated. The rebellion will never be so badly off that we'll turn to you for support."

"Harsh words from a tired old man," said the leader of the Obeah delegation. "I am Scour; I speak for the Blood Runners. We are a people of one race and one religion, with roots far older than your revered Empire Families. We are proud and honorable, according to our traditions, and we have never bent the knee to Lionstone, or any who preceded her. We come to offer our support to the rebellion. We are wealthy. You are welcome to take what you need."

Random licked his lips. His mouth was very dry. Scour's voice was a harsh whisper, full of age and pain, like the dusky breath of an ancient mummy. Random remembered some of the uncanny things he'd heard about the Blood Runners, and suddenly they didn't seem nearly so unlikely. He didn't want their help. Didn't want anything from them. But the rebellion needed backers.

"I take it there's a price for your support," he said finally. "What did you have in mind?"

"To be left alone. We have our own ways, which have endured for centuries beyond counting, and we have no wish to change. Lionstone's new measures threaten our independence. In return for the gifts we offer, we require only to be left in peace. Disapprove if you must, but do it from a distance."

"What's the catch?" said Random.

"There is one other thing," said Scour. "A matter of honor. One of your people owes us a debt." The Blood Runners all turned their dead-white faces to stare at Hazel d'Ark. Scour took one step toward her. "You are the only survivor of the starship Shard. The Captain of that vessel made a pact with us. Promises were made and help provided in return for future payment. The Captain and the rest of the crew are dead. As the only survivor, the debt is now yours, Hazel d'Ark, and it is past time for repayment." He looked back at Random. "We require you to hand this woman over to us."

"Don't waste your time," said Hazel. "Whatever price Captain Markee agreed to. I wasn't consulted, and I didn't agree to it. Besides, I couldn't pay it. I'm broke."

"We don't want money," said Scour. "Your Captain made an agreement with us. The Shard was to provide us with fresh bodies; a percentage of those acquired during your work as cloneleggers. We always have a need for fresh bodies. Our customs and researches tend to use them up quite quickly. We cannot overlook the debt. That would be dishonorable. So we must have our pound of flesh. You will come with us, Hazel d'Ark, and we will make good use of you. While you last."

"Like hell you will," said Owen, and his voice cracked across the silence, cold and hard and very deadly. "Hazel's my friend; no one threatens her while I'm here."

"Thank you, Owen," said Hazel, "but I can speak for myself." She glared at the Blood Runners. "Your deal was with Markee, and he's dead. You never made any deal with me, so I don't owe you squat. You're not getting your hands on me. I've heard about people who end up in your laboratories. They end up begging for death to stop the pain."

"What is pain," said Scour, "when the goal is knowledge? We are unlocking the secrets of life and death. You should be honored to assist us."

"Take your honor and stick it," said Hazel. "You're not cutting me up an inch at a time."

"Yes we will," said Scour. "It has been agreed. It is immutable, fixed, inevitable."

"Crazy as well as ugly," said Owen. "Get out of my sight. There's nothing for you here."

"Wait just a minute," said Gregor Shreck. "These people have offered us unlimited financial support. What's one life, compared to that?"

"Right," said Kit SummerIsle. "I mean, she's only a clonelegger, after all. Every time one of them dies, the Empire smells a little better."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the crowd. Owen looked to Jack Random for support, but he was chewing his lower lip and scowling thoughtfully. Owen's hand dropped to the gun at his side and then made himself relax. The Blood Runners were just holo images. They were no threat.

"Hazel isn't going anywhere," he said flatly, glaring at the crowd. "Anyone who feels otherwise is welcome to come here in person, and I will send him on to join his ancestors. Form a queue, no shoving."

"I have to agree with Owen," said Random. "We are not the Empire. We don't sacrifice individuals for someone else's good."

Scour stepped forward, his crimson eyes fixed on Hazel's. "Then we will take her. You cannot escape, d'Ark. We have a teleport fix on you. You will come with us now. And we will take such pleasures from the mysteries of your flesh."

A silver shimmering appeared in the air around Hazel, spitting static. Hazel tried to run, but the energy field hemmed her in, like an insect in a killing jar. Ruby Journey tried using her holo-breaker on the Blood Runners, but it didn't work. Hazel looked despairingly at Owen as he tried to get to her and couldn't. He hammered on the shimmering air with his fists, ignoring the pain as the energy field burned his human hand, but it made no difference. He still kept trying, until the field grew strong enough to throw him back. He glared across at the Blood Runners, who ignored him, their eyes fixed on Hazel. He knew they could have taken her by now. They just wanted to make a point.

There was nothing he could do, but he had to do something. Something. He turned back to Hazel, already almost lost in the shimmering field, and suddenly will and need slammed together in his mind and awakened something dark and terrible down in the undermind, the back brain, that part of him changed and strengthened by his time in the Madness Maze. Power blazed up in him, crackling in the air around him like fettered lightning, bent to his will, and he became more than human as he took his aspect upon him. His presence was suddenly overpowering, his very reality magnified and concentrated into something so perfect it was almost inhuman. Everyone in the Hall stared at him, unable to look away, their eyes held with the fascination of a moth for a lamp, and he was burning so very brightly.

He stepped forward, sank his hands into the shimmering teleport field, and ripped it apart. It collapsed instantly, and Hazel staggered toward him on unsteady legs. He took her in his arms for a moment and then gently pushed her away, handing her over to Random. He wasn't finished yet. He turned to face the Blood Runners, his face cold and hard, and they stared back at him, contemptuous and defiant.

"You think you're safe, don't you?" Owen said quietly. "You're light-years away, at the other end of the Rim. But I can reach you wherever you are."

He reached out in a way that was new to him, but was so obvious now the power was awake in him, and his anger fell upon Scour. The Blood Runner screamed once as blood erupted from his mouth and nose and ears and eyes, and then he exploded, spattering those around him with blood and shredded flesh. Owen Deathstalker smiled at their shocked and bloody faces, and then he turned and stared grimly out at the crowd that had been ready to sacrifice Hazel for their greater good. They shivered under his gaze, but still couldn't look away. Owen could feel the power surging within him, demanding to be used, but he clamped down on it hard. He didn't understand it yet, and he had a strong suspicion it just might have an agenda of its own. He concentrated, let the power sink back into the undermind, into the back brain, and became just a man again. Hazel pushed herself away from Random, and moved uncertainly toward Owen. Her face was composed, but her hands were trembling slightly.

"Thanks, Owen. I owe you one. I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I," said Owen. "I think the Maze changed us more than we're willing to admit. The power's in you, too. You could have saved yourself."

"Next time I will. We're going to have to study what we're becoming, Owen. What we're capable of."

"Talk later," said Random. "We don't want to freak out our prospective new friends. I think it's better if they find out about us a little bit at a time." He turned to look at the remaining Blood Runners. "And you can get the hell out of here, like I told you. We're fighting this rebellion to put an end to practices like yours."

"We will have her," said one of the Runners. "If not now, later."

"No you won't," said Owen. "If I ever clap eyes on you again, you're history. Now, go back to whatever cesspit you crawled out of, and don't try to get in touch with us again until you're prepared to act civilized."

The Blood Runners stared at him for a long moment, and then they were gone. There was a general sigh of relief from all present, followed by a low rumble of conversation in the crowd. Just a sighting of Blood Runners was rare enough, without seeing them get their ass kicked so convincingly. A number of people looked admiringly at Owen, but he couldn't help noticing there were just as many who seemed disturbed, even scared, by the power he'd wielded. Owen understood. It scared him, too. As the power within him grew, would he become more than human, or less? He looked around as Jack Random finally called everyone's attention back to him, and the crowd fell silent again.

"I think we've had enough excitement for one day," Random said dryly. "We can continue this meeting through the usual channels over the next few days. We'll meet again when we have something more concrete to discuss. Unless there is still some urgent piece of business that absolutely must be dealt with now…"

"There is," said a deep, authoritative voice from the crowd, and once again people fell back as a tall, commanding figure strode forward to stand before Random. He was a head taller than anyone else present, well-muscled and devilishly handsome. His long dark hair fell to his broad shoulders, and he wore silver battle armor chased with gold as though he'd been born to it. He radiated strength and confidence, and wisdom and compassion showed clearly in his striking features. He held himself like a warrior, and his charisma outshone the overhead lights. Owen distrusted him on sight. No one had a right to look that good.

"And who the hell are you?" he said, not bothering how it sounded.

"I'm Jack Random," said the newcomer. "The real Jack Random."

The crowd erupted into a deafening babble as everyone tried to talk at once. Random's jaw dropped, and for a moment he looked like nothing more than a tired old man who'd had one shock too many. He pulled himself together quickly, but a lot of people had seen the lapse. Ruby Journey moved in protectively close beside Random, but his old friend Alexander Storm stayed where he was, openly stunned. The newcomer stood before his namesake, arms folded across his great chest, his gaze level and challenging. Owen and Hazel looked at each other, but neither could think of anything to say for the life of them. Ruby Journey glared at the newcomer, one hand resting instinctively on her holstered gun.

"You can't be Jack," she said flatly. "You're nowhere near old enough, for a start."

"I've been through several heavy-duty regenerations," said the younger Jack Random. "Which is why I've been out of things for so long. The Empire almost finished me. But now I'm back, better than ever, and I'm here to head your rebellion." He smiled at Storm, who was still blinking dazedly. "Good to see you again, Alex. It's been a while since we fought together on Cold Rock."

Storm realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it with a snap. "You look just like him," he said slowly. "Younger, but…"

"Well?" said Finlay Campbell. "Is he the real Jack Random or not?"

"I don't know!" said Storm. "I don't know what to think." He looked at the older Random beside him. "You look like him, too. Older, but… I can't tell."

"I can," said Ruby. "I've fought beside the real Jack Random, and he's standing right here at my side. Anyone has a problem with that, they can step right up and be measured for a coffin." She glared at the young Random, who just smiled back at her.

"Loyalty. I admire that in a warrior."

"Oh, pardon me while I puke," said Owen, not bothering to lower his voice. "Doesn't it strike anyone here as odd that this perfect knight in shining armor should turn up out of nowhere, claiming to be the legendary Jack Random, just when we're starting to put things together? At best, he's deluded. At worst, he's a plant sent to divide us. I say we show him the door and boot him through it. As far as I'm concerned, we've already got the real Jack Random, and we don't need some poseur imposter. Right, Jack?"

"I don't know," said the older Random. "What if he's right? What if that is the real Jack Random, and I'm just a duplicate? He looks and sounds the part much more than I do. The Empire had me captive for a long time; maybe they cloned me, and I'm the clone. It would explain why my memories are so patchy in places."

"That was the Empire mind techs," said Ruby. "They could screw up anybody's mind. Everyone knows that. More likely this is the clone standing before us, sent to confuse us, like the Deathstalker said."

"If he was, he's doing a damn good job," said Hazel.

The older Random looked at Storm. "You said we were together at Cold Rock, but I don't remember that. Were you there with me?"

"Yes," said Storm. "I don't see how you could forget that. We fought side by side, almost died together. You were taken, and I only escaped being captured by the skin of my teeth. I never saw you again. And now, I don't know what to think."

"What we need is an esper," said Hazel. "Get the two Randoms together before a telepath, and let him sort it out."

"That wouldn't necessarily work," said Giles. "They could both genuinely believe they're who they say they are.

Empire mind techs could make you believe anything, even in my day. No, what we need is a genetest. That'll reveal which one is the clone."

"No problem," said the young Random. "I'm on my way to the Wolfling World to join you. You can run some tissue samples then. I'll be with you soon. And then I'll lead you all in a rebellion that will finally topple the Iron Bitch from her Throne."

The crowd broke into loud applause. Many cheered. It was obvious they found it much easier to believe in the young, charismatic hero rather than the older, gaunt, and shabby man who'd previously claimed the legendary name. Though he hated to admit it, Owen could understand why. When he first met Random on Mistworld, he hadn't wanted to believe it, either. He'd wanted to meet a hero out of legend, too. Someone just like the man who stood before him now.

"I'll be here soon," the young Random repeated as the applause finally died away. "It'll then be up to you to decide who is really who, and how you can make the best use of me in the coming rebellion. It is a time for heroes, my friends. A time for men of goodwill and honor to side together against an evil that cannot be permitted to continue!"

He had to stop again as he was interrupted by more applause and cheers. He smiled and bowed, and then his holo was gone, and the applause died raggedly away. Silence slowly fell across the great Hall as one by one, all heads turned to look at the older Jack Random. He bit his lower lip and looked down at his feet. Ruby nudged him with an elbow.

"Say something!"

"I don't know what to say," he said quietly, not looking up. "I don't know who I am anymore. I'm tired. I'm going to lie down for a while."

He stepped down from the platform and left the Hall, and nobody raised a hand to stop him, not even Owen,

The discussion that followed was heated and very confused, but there was no doubt the younger Random's appearance had galvanized the crowd into action in a way the older Random had been unable to. They'd needed someone to spark their enthusiasm and commitment, and now they were ready to fight. Giles and Owen and Hazel chaired the meeting as best they could, but as far as the crowd was concerned, the three of them didn't have the authority to make any binding decisions. Jack Random's name had brought them to the Last Standing, and they weren't prepared to be led by unknowns. In the end, Alexander Storm and the two Stevie Blues took over, as representatives of the Golgotha underground. They'd been preparing for an Empire-wide rebellion for years, but had lacked the funds and the following to put it into action.

The meeting slowly settled down, and some decisions were made. Everyone knew that in a straightforward war against Lionstone's forces, the rebels would inevitably lose. They didn't have the numbers or the discipline or the resources of Lionstone's army and fleet. Instead, the Golgotha underground proposed orchestrated risings on every planet in the Empire simultaneously, together with acts of sabotage and civil disruption, spreading the Imperial forces so thinly that they could be fought and beaten in individual battles.

However, four planets in particular remained vital. Whoever could control or hold them would win in the end. Only once their fates had been sealed would it be possible for the rebels to begin the final phase: the assault on Golgotha itself and the Imperial Palace. Whoever held Golgotha ruled the Empire. The four planets were Technos III, the base of Clan Wolfe's stardrive production; Mistworld, the rebel planet; Shannon's World, also known as the pleasure planet; and Virimonde, in charge of food and supply routes for most of the Empire. It was decided, almost unanimously, that Owen and Hazel would return to Mistworld. They had experience and contacts there.

"Oh, great," said Owen. "The last time I was there, it was all I could do just to stay alive, and I'm supposed to be an expert?"

"If you survived living in Mistport, that qualifies you as an expert," said Hazel. "And I do know a few people who could be useful. Which puts us miles ahead of anyone else here. Cheer up, stud. Maybe it won't be so bad this time."

"It couldn't be any worse," said Owen.

"Don't put money on it," said Ruby Journey.

"I'm coming back in an urn," said Owen. "I just know it. Mistworld is the only planet I've ever known that made the Imperial Court look timid and restrained. Mistport isn't a civilization; it's evolution in action. If it was any more violent, they could sell season tickets to the Golgotha Arena crowds. It'd be a major hit on holovision. There's more sex, blood, and dirty dealing in Mistport than on your average soap. Maybe we should negotiate to buy the rights…"

"Owen," said Hazel. "You're babbling. If we survived the jungles of Shandrakor, we can survive Mistport."

"It'll all end in tears," said Owen.

He realized people were staring at him, and subsided, muttering. The meeting moved on to further things, but Hazel stopped listening. Behind what she hoped was a brave face, she was shaking inwardly. Leaving the Wolfling World for Mistworld meant leaving her supply of Blood behind, She could always stock up before they left, and she was sure she'd be able to find a new source in Mistport (you could find anything in Mistport), but it increased the chances of her secret being found out. She didn't care what the rebel Council might think of her. They'd already condemned her just for being a clonelegger. But Owen would be so upset with her. He wouldn't be angry—she could have coped with anger—but he would look at her with those sad, defeated eyes and be very disappointed in her. For some reason she couldn't or wouldn't name, Hazel couldn't bear the thought of letting him down like that. So he must never know.

She crossed her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly. She could feel the weight of the vial of Blood in her pocket, tugging at her side like an impatient child. Her need was growing again, but she fought it down ruthlessly. She was still in charge for the moment. And perhaps… just perhaps she could use the trip to Mistworld as a way to break off from her Blood use. She'd be in a familiar place with old friends. The pressure would be less. She could do it. She was stronger than the drug. And all the while she thought this, she had to hug herself ever more tightly to stop herself trembling with her need for the Blood in her pocket.

She made herself pay attention to what was being discussed and found that Jack Random the elder, Ruby Journey, and Alexander Storm had been chosen to go to Technos III, as representatives of the rebellion. A lot of people still weren't sure about Random, but no one was ready to count him out yet, so sending him to Technos III seemed to be the best way to make use of him. The planet was a factory world, and had been for generations. Most of the surface had disappeared beneath an overlay of sprawling mile-long factories, construction sites, and mining equipment. The air was so polluted you could chew it, and the local ecology had long ago been poisoned into extinction. No one cared. Nothing really important had been lost. The factories worked on, and production actually rose a little after they didn't have to bother about side effects anymore.

These days it all belonged to Clan Wolfe and was given over to stardrive production. This was a long and complicated business, involving practically every resource on the planet, but since the Wolfes had Imperial backing, no one complained, or at least no one who mattered. The workers were clones and indentured servants, paying off family debts that went back generations. Given the current state of interest rates on old loans, you could be born and die in debt without ever affecting the original sum. Not surprisingly, there was a small but thriving army of rebels and discontents who'd scraped a precarious living among the discarded remnants of high tech and abandoned experiments that filled the great industrial wastelands.

They were vicious, dedicated fighters. They had to be. There was no way for them to get off Technos III as long as Clan Wolfe was still in control.

Of late, things had got so bad on Technos III that Valentine Wolfe had been obliged to ask for assistance to avoid any interruption to stardrive production. The Empress had shown her sense of humor by sending five companies of Church troops, together with a selection of Jesuit commandos, under the command of Cardinal James Kassar. Valentine and Kassar did not get along, so Valentine had taken the opportunity to fade even more into the background, leaving Stephanie and Daniel to run things as they chose. The Church was currently fighting the local rebels with evangelical fury, and losing. Kassar was beside himself with rage, not least because Lionstone wouldn't send him any reinforcements. Any problems on Technos III were his problems and his responsibility.

Random, Journey, and Storm would make planetfall unnoticed, link up with the local rebels, and then lead them to victory over the Church forces. Hopefully, the locals would then agree to work with the main rebellion, to produce the new stardrive for the upcoming war. No one said anything, but everyone knew this was to be the make or break for Jack Random. Either he could bring this off, in which case he probably was the real thing, or he couldn't. Whatever happened, he was no great loss. They could always send in someone else to lead the rebels.

Giles Deathstalker, Finlay Campbell, Evangeline Shreck, and the Wolfling were to go to Shannon's World. Famed throughout the Empire as the most luxurious pleasure planet of all time, something had gone terribly wrong there three years ago. No one knew what, but the few people who were brave enough to go there never came back. The Empress sent down a full company of marines. Nothing was ever heard from them, either. These days Shannon's World was quarantined—as much to prevent anything breaking out as anyone foolish enough to try to get in. The various owners were still arguing over who was going to pay for the major armed forces necessary to get the answers.

Only one man had ever come back alive. Half-dead, half-mad, he had lived only a few days, mostly because he wanted to die. He renamed Shannon's World as Haceldama, the Field of Blood. Apparently, there was a hideous war going on down on the pleasure planet, though between whom remained unclear.

"And you want us to go there?" said Finlay Campbell incredulously. "Where does it say on our resumes that we do suicide missions? And what makes this hellhole so important, anyway?"

"Vincent Harker," said Alexander Storm simply. "One of the greatest strategic minds living today. He has knowledge of everything from distribution of forces within the Empire to its contingency plans in case of rebel attack. This is vital information, and we need it. Normally, he's so well guarded that we couldn't get anywhere near him. But twelve hours ago Harker's ship was attacked by a pirate craft. Nothing to do with us. Both ships managed to destroy each other, but Harker got away in an escape pod. He landed somewhere on Shannon's World. We have to find him before the Empire does.

"We have two small advantages. Firstly, since this happened only twelve hours ago, we have as good a chance of finding him as whatever forces the Empress finally sends in to look for him. Secondly, Harker's pod was equipped with a beacon, and it should still be sending, though you won't know that for sure till you get down there. Thirdly, whatever's happening on Shannon's World, you people are best suited to survive it. You've already lived lives that would have killed anyone else."

"Nevertheless," said Finlay. "You are sending us to a planet that only one person has ever returned from, and he was dying and crazy?"

"Got it in one," said Storm. "But we really can't miss this chance at getting our hands on Harker. Think of it as a challenge."

Finlay gave him a hard look. "You think of it as a challenge. I'm not going."

"Yes you are," said Evangeline.

Finlay turned his glare on her. "Give me one good reason. Hell, give me one bad reason."

"Because I'm going," she said calmly. "Our beloved leader has decided I'll be more useful there. Haceldama, the Field of Blood. Sounds almost romantic, doesn't it?"

"You have a strange idea of romance," said Finlay.

"Of course," said Evangeline. "I fell in love with you, didn't I?"

"I should give up now," said Giles. "Trust me on this; you're not going to win."

Finlay glared around him impartially. "In the unlikely event that I return alive from this venture, certain people would be well-advised to come up with one hell of a reward."

"That's my hero," said Evangeline.

After that, choosing David Deathstalker and Kit SummerIsle to take control of Virimonde and run it for the rebellion went very smoothly. The meeting broke up and everyone went their separate ways, and only history would note that this was when the great rebellion really began.

Owen and Hazel, Jack and Ruby and Giles sat around a table in the castle's great kitchen, relaxing after the Sturm und Drang of the Council meeting with several bottles of wine and a nourishing meal of the never-changing protein cubes. Giles kept swearing he was going to fix the food machines to turn out something different, or indeed anything different, but somehow he was always too busy with other things. Owen had a dark suspicion that Giles had lost the manual for the machine, but didn't want to admit it. Alexander Storm and the Stevie Blues had taken one look at what was for dinner, and decided very quickly that they needed some time in private to work on their reports for the Golgotha underground. Owen had a suspicion they had some food of their own tucked away somewhere.

He took a determined bite at his second protein cube. He kept hoping that he'd get used to the stuff, but somehow every day it found a whole new way to taste utterly vile. He swallowed his mouthful through sheer willpower and quickly washed it down with a large mouthful of wine. Little wonder he ended up half-drunk after every meal. He was beginning to wonder if it might be better to get drunk before the meal, so as to be better able to cope with it. He sighed deeply and pushed the rest of the cube away. He'd been meaning to start a diet soon anyway.

"Don't worry," said Hazel. "There are some really good restaurants in Mistport."

"There had better be," said Owen.

"I want a genetest," said Random suddenly, and everyone looked at him. He flushed slightly. "I mean, there must be the equipment for such a test somewhere in this castle."

"I think so," said Giles. "Or at least something that I could patch together to do the job. But there's no need. We know you're the real Jack Random. We all touched each other's mind in the Madness Maze when it changed us."

"That's not enough," Random insisted. "All that proves is that I think I'm the real me. I could be wrong. Who knows what the Empire mind techs did to me while I was their prisoner?"

"You don't need to take any test to prove to us who you are," said Ruby.

"Hell with you," said Random. "I want to take the test so I'll know who I really am. I'm not sure anymore. You saw their faces in the Hall. They came here expecting to meet a legend and instead found just a tired old man with jumbled memories."

"Will you stop this old-man nonsense," said Ruby. "You're only forty-seven. You told me yourself."

"But I crammed a hell of a lot into those years," said Random. "At least, I think I did. I can't trust my memory anymore."

"I can set up the test," said Giles. "But it'll take time to put the equipment together. It'd mean delaying your departure for Technos III for two, maybe three days."

Owen frowned. "I don't think we can wait that long. We're working to a timetable, remember?"

"Tests can wait," Ruby said firmly. "I know who you are, even if you don't. We've got jobs to do, and they take precedence."

Random still looked troubled, but finally shrugged and nodded his head. They all sat around the table in silence, looking at each other and then looking away. They were going to have to split up soon and go off on separate missions from which some or all of them might not return. No one was quite sure what to say.

"We'll still be linked through the undermind," Giles said finally. "Wherever we are. I don't think distance will make any difference."

"But it might," said Hazel. "This is all new territory. No one's ever been linked like us. Hell, no one's ever been like us."

"Yeah," said Owen. "There's got to be a catch. You don't get powers like ours without paying some kind of price."

"That's human thinking," said Random. "Limited thinking. You're not human anymore, so why should you have human limits?"

"There has to be limits," said Giles. "There are always limits eventually. We may not be strictly human anymore, but we're not gods."

"I wouldn't mind being a god," said Ruby. "Having bronzed young acolytes bringing me gold and jewels for tribute. I could get behind that."

"There's more to it than that," said Owen. "The link that binds us isn't just a glorified comm channel. It's changing us, bringing us together. Have any of you noticed we're starting to talk like each other?"

"Yeah," said Hazel. "We all sound a lot more alike than we used to. We're using the same phrases, sharing the same concepts, developing similar ways of looking at things."

"If you'd noticed all this," said Random, "why didn't you say something?"

"I was hoping it was just me. I mean, this is pretty damn spooky when you think about it. It's not just speech patterns, either. We're using each other's skills, without having to learn them first. Even augmented skills, like Owen's boost."

"Sometimes one of you will say what I've been thinking," said Owen. "And I get feelings about where people are and what they're doing, even when I've no way of knowing it. Are we becoming a gestalt, do you think? A group mind?"

"I don't think so," said Giles. "We're still capable of keeping secrets from each other. Isn't that right, Hazel?"

Her heart jumped, but she kept her face relaxed. "What are you talking about?"

"Perhaps you'd care to tell us why you've been spending so much time in the Hadenman city," said Giles.

"That's my business," said Hazel flatly.

"We're all entitled to our private lives," said Owen.

"I want to know," said Giles.

"She's been seeing Tobias Moon, all right?" said Owen. "If she didn't want to tell us, that was her business. Just because we're close now, it doesn't mean we have to open up our souls to each other."

"We may not have any choice," said Giles. "If the link continues to grow and strengthen."

"Which sounds to me like a damn good reason for splitting up and putting some distance between us," said Random. "No offense, people, but the only person I want in my head is me."

"Right," said Hazel. "And besides, I don't think humanity's ready to cope with Ruby Journey the god."

"You have no ambition," said Ruby calmly.

"But we're a lot more powerful together," said Owen. "Remember the force shield we raised against Silence's troops? They couldn't touch us with anything they had. I don't think any of us could do that separately. There might be other things we could learn to do together. Powerful things. Don't we have a responsibility to the rebellion to become as powerful as possible? We're the rebellion's secret weapon, the ace in the hole; we're the one thing that might tip the coming war in our favor. Are we being selfish in valuing our own individuality over the rebellion's needs?"

"Perhaps some of what we're fighting for is everyone's right to be an individual," said Random. "We can't save humanity by becoming inhuman. The only other people to survive passing through the Madness Maze were the scientists who created the Hadenmen. Do we want something like that as our legacy?"

"He's right," said Giles. "We all have monsters within us. What if our growing power let them out, let them run loose? Who knows what we might become?"

They all sat and thought about that for a while. Owen thought how easy it had been for him to kill the Blood Runner, halfway across the Empire, in the Obeah systems. Finally, Random sighed and leaned forward. "This is all irrelevant. We can't stay together. We're needed on three separate planets, right now. We'll be leaving as soon as the Hadenmen have ships ready. Everything else will have to wait till we return. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss? I don't mind admitting I've found today's business exhausting. Somewhere there is a bed with a thick mattress and heavy covers calling my name."

"There is one thing," Owen said reluctantly. "You remember my personal AI, Ozymandius? He turned out to be an Empire spy, and I had to destroy him with my new powers before he destroyed us. Well… he's back. He talks to me, but I'm the only one that can hear him. The odds are I'm just cracking up from the pressure, but it might be something more sinister…"

"You never mentioned this before," said Ruby.

"He was scared we'd think he was crazy," said Hazel. "We wouldn't have thought that, Owen. We all understand about pressure and what it does to people."

"Besides," said Random, "if you were going crazy, we'd have felt it through the link long before now."

"Does Oz still have the control words he planted in your mind and Hazel's?" said Giles, frowning.

"He says not," said Owen. "But I have no way of knowing whether he's lying or not. He hasn't tried to use them. So far."

"Talk to him now," said Random. "We'll try and listen in. Everyone crack their comms wide open and concentrate on the link as well. Go ahead, Owen."

"All right," said Owen, just a little self-consciously. "Oz, are you there?"

"Of course I'm still here," said the AI. "Where else would I be? You told me to shut up, remember? Personally, I'm amazed you've been able to stagger through your days without my assistance. I could have given you all kinds of advice during the Council meeting. Still, with all these new magic tricks of yours, I suppose you're too grand for me now. I mean, I'm just a class-seven AI with access to more information than you could wade through in a lifetime…"

"Shut up, Oz," said Owen. He looked around the table. "Well? Did you catch any of that?"

"Not a thing," said Random, and the others shook their heads. Random looked thoughtfully at Owen. "Do you think it's your AI?"

"No," said Owen. "It can't be. I killed Oz in the Madness Maze; I destroyed his mind completely with my new powers. I felt him die."

"Then, who is it?" said Hazel.

"I don't know!" said Owen.

"It could be some aftereffect of the Madness Maze," said Random.

"Oh, that's really comforting," said Ruby. "You mean we could all end up hearing things?"

"If you can't think of anything helpful to say, button it," said Hazel. "No wonder Owen didn't like to talk to us about this."

"I have to say I don't see what we can do to help, Owen," said Random. "Keep us apprised of any new developments, though. That goes for all of us. But I think we'd do better to leave this for another time, after we return from our various missions. They have to take precedence. In the time before we go, Owen, I suggest you run a few diagnostics on your comm implants, see if that turns up anything. Anyone else been having problems they'd like to talk about?"

Everyone looked around the table at everyone else. Hazel kept her mouth shut. She couldn't tell them about the Blood. They wouldn't understand. It was her problem, she'd beat it herself. She'd beaten it before in Mistport, and that was where she was going. It was a sign. It had to be. The silence dragged on, until finally Random pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

"Good night, people. My left foot has gone to sleep, and I'd like to catch up with it as soon as possible. Get as much rest as you can before we have to leave. I have a strong feeling it'll be some time before we get another chance to rest."

He nodded to them vaguely, turned, and left the kitchen. Ruby Journey grabbed a half-full bottle of wine and went after him. Hazel nodded briefly to Owen and left as quickly as she could without it seeming strange. She didn't dare talk to him. She might blurt out the truth. If anyone would understand, it would be Owen. But she couldn't take the chance, and so she left the kitchen without looking back and went to her quarters alone. Giles and Owen sat looking at each other across the table.

"I'm sorry we're having to part so soon, ancestor," said Owen. "We've hardly had a chance to get to know each other."

"I know you're a true Deathstalker," said Giles. "That's all that really matters. You're a good fighter—for an historian. Is there… anything you'd like to ask me?"

"Well," said Owen, "I have been wondering… why do you wear your hair in a scalplock? I mean, that's the sign of a mercenary soldier."

"Yes," said Giles. "It is. The Empire I remember is gone now, just a memory. The Emperor I swore to serve is long dead. Things haven't turned out at all how I expected. You always hope the future will be better, and your descendants will have an easier time than you had, but I saw the rot setting in, even then. And nothing's changed in the last nine hundred years, except for the worse. At least I've lived long enough to see the beginnings of a rebuilding. I'm no longer Warrior Prime. That was taken from me long ago, and so I became a fighter for other people's causes. Just like now. I'm a mercenary, Owen. Nothing more. Hence the scalplock. I always did have a weakness for the dramatic gesture. Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to talk to me about before we have to part?"

Owen shifted uncomfortably on his chair. Ever since Giles had killed his son Dram, he'd been trying to be a father figure to Owen, but Owen didn't want or need another father. He still had enough problems over how he felt about his actual father. So in the end the two men just smiled and nodded to each other, and went off in their different directions to get what rest they could before their separate journeys.

Two Deathstalkers, bound by blood and honor, guilt and perhaps a little feeling. Heroes of the forthcoming rebellion. Who had no way of knowing to what dark end destiny would eventually bring them.