Deathstalker

Who's Been Sleeping in My Head?

The man called Hood walked unhurriedly through the quiet corridors deep in the heart of the Empress' palace. They were broad, high-ceilinged corridors, with tasteful paintings and portraits on the walls by whoever was currently in fashion. Holos were so gauche. People came and went on silent, important missions, passing Hood by without noticing him. The same low-level esp that hid his face among espers was more than enough to keep him hidden from normal people he didn't want to see him. He wasn't actually invisible; he just gave their minds a little nudge and they looked everywhere except at him. Luckily esp-blockers were rare and expensive enough that they were only used in actual rooms, not in the connecting corridors. A serious security lapse that Hood had taken care never to point out. Never knew when you might need an ace up your sleeve, particularly when dealing with the Empress. Lionstone had raised paranoia to an art form and encouraged its growth among her people.

Hood also carried a small tech inhibitor that kept his image from appearing on any of the security monitors. A simple device that triggered a program he'd entered into the security computers, which in turn edited him out of the image appearing on the monitors. The device reminded each camera as he approached, and then made it forget him once he was past. No trouble at all for someone with his access to security computers.

It took him a little longer than usual to reach his personal quarters, but he was used to that. Because people couldn't see him, they had a regrettable tendency to try and walk through him, and he had to be quick on his feet to avoid them. His esp wasn't strong enough to hide him from someone who'd just crashed into him. So he ducked this way and that and never said a word, until finally the door to his private chambers was shut firmly behind him, and he could relax at last. He removed his cape, threw it more or less in the direction of his coatrack and let out a long happy sigh. Home and safe. Or as safe as he ever was. He sank into a comfortable chair and stretched slowly. Living a double life was a tiring business. He smiled and dropped his esp disguise, and there in his chair sat the Lord High Dram, Warrior Prime of the Empire and head of the Empress' security. Right hand, confidant and lover to the Empress Lionstone herself.

Now that he was finally able to relax and be himself, it occurred to him that by rights he ought to be as mad as hell. The security raid on the underground meeting had damn near caught him napping. Certainly they'd been none of his people. He'd gone to some lengths to ensure that they were preoccupied elsewhere. And since he hadn't sanctioned the raid, it must have originated with the Empress' own people. Presumably they'd found out about the meeting through their own agents and seized the chance to make him look negligent in her eyes. There was always a certain rivalry between his agents and hers, but he'd thought he had it safely under control. Apparently not. He'd have to do something about that. If he had been caught and identified, all the time and hard work he'd spent establishing his Hood persona would have been for nothing, and the Empress would have lost her best source on what was happening in the underground. More importantly, he'd have looked like a fool before the Empress, and all his own plans would have been ruined. But he hadn't been caught. Through luck, keeping a cool head and having the foresight to surround himself with the right people, he'd come out of it untouched. He'd light a candle in church as a sign of thanks. When he had the time.

He stretched slowly again, enjoying it, and put his feet up on the padded footstool that hurried forward in time to catch his feet. Dram had always believed in keeping up with the latest little luxuries. One of the perquisites of living so deep in the palace, so close to the Empress. Your life or your freedom might be in danger now and again, but never your comforts. Even so, Dram's quarters were positively Spartan compared to most people of his rank and standing. Dram had never had much interest in personal possessions, unless they attended to his personal comfort. So there were padded chairs and a luxurious bed, thick carpets on the floor and a well-stocked drinks cabinet, but no cybernetic toys or diversions, no holo views or personalized illusions on his walls. Nothing expensively useless or ostentatious, just to show he could afford it. He'd always been basically inner-directed, and possessions seemed to him to be just something more to worry about. They slowed you down when you were in a hum, and distracted you when your mind should be focused on more important things. So mostly he did without them. His life was complicated enough as it was.

He also had no time for the excesses and indulgences that so preoccupied others of his rank and station. Dram saw them as weaknesses, and he couldn't afford to be weak. He had too many enemies, and besides, it pleased him to be strong and in control at all times. Given time, he had every intention of extending that control as far and as wide as it would go. His only passion, apart from the Empress, long may she reign, was ambition. Though he was careful always to keep that to himself. Lover or no, Lionstone wouldn't hesitate to have him executed if she saw in him a threat to her position. She'd always been very single-minded in such matters. Dram admired that in her. He liked to think they had something in common out of bed.

It was his ambition that had led him to recognize the potential in the newly developed esper drug. He'd immediately taken steps to place the scientists involved under his direct control. He cut them off from every outside influence and drove them mercilessly until he had a working sample. He tested it on expendable subjects for as long as his patience would allow, and then took it himself, just a small dose, and it was wonderful. Like a blind man seeing a swan for the first time, or a deaf man hearing music.

He had everyone involved quietly killed, save for those few scientists necessary to produce and refine more of the drug. It was vital that he control it utterly. He knew even then that it could be his road to the Iron Throne itself. The clone underground would serve as further test subjects, and finally as his own private army of espers, loyal only to him. They would do anything for him in return for the drug, because he knew its secrets. The effects were only temporary.

To remain an esper, you had to keep taking the drug. And though the drug itself wasn't addictive, being an esper was. Anyone who'd experienced it, even for a short while, would do anything necessary to be an esper again. To be whole again. He controlled production and distribution of the drug, which meant he controlled anyone who took it. Forever. The thought pleased him, and he laughed softly. The clones would take the drug eagerly to begin with, because they trusted him, trusted Hood, the tried and true backer and supporter of the underground. And by the time they discovered the truth, it would be far too late.

Of course, the twenty to forty percent death rate was a problem. He'd have to do something about that. He deplored waste.

He'd only taken a minor dose himself. The more powerful the dosage, the higher the death rate. Once your body had adapted to the drug, you were safe enough, but the initial dose was always a risk. So, being sensible as well as ambitious, he'd settled for a minor dose. It meant only limited esper abilities, but he could live with that. He'd save the larger doses for his clone volunteers. He was interested in seeing what abilities the larger doses would produce, but he could wait. He was patient. There was always the chance large doses would produce battle espers, like the Stevie Blues. Given an army of those, he'd face any enemy. Augmented and adjusted men were the past; esp was the future.

It was a pity the tests on clone espers had been terminated. They'd been producing very interesting results, under his indirect control, until the Empress found out about them and had them shut down. That had been her agents at work again, and only some quick thinking on his feet had kept his connections from coming out. That wasn't going to happen again. The esper drug was his one weapon against all the Empress' power and influence. Unless, of course, she already knew about it. Which was a possibility. You could never be sure exactly what the Empress did and didn't know. Except that if she had known what he planned and intended, she'd have had him killed by now.

"Talk to me, Argus," he said finally, and sank back in his chair with his eyes closed as his personal AI brought him up to date on everything that had happened in his absence. Dram had many enemies, most of whom knew where he lived, and he relied on the AI's unsleeping vigilance to protect his quarters while he was away.

"Everything is under control, sir. I dealt with all the routine matters in your absence, using your face and voice, and made a number of entries in your diary. Do try and read it sometime, sir; I don't make these appointments for fun. It would appear you're still remarkably popular with the populace, according to your mail, proving once again that there is no allowing for taste. Requests for help or money are up, proposals of marriage slightly down. The Company of Lords still hates your guts. They sent a number of professional people to booby-trap your apartment while you were out. I let them get on with it rather than use emergency measures. It takes such a long time to clean the blood off the walls afterward. Once they were gone, I went around and disarmed everything. They're getting pretty ingenious, you know. Every time this happens, I find something new."

"Are you sure you got everything?"

"Reasonably sure."

"What doesn't that mean?"

"Ii means if I have got it wrong, at least you won't be around to say I told you so."

Dram laughed in spite of himself. He allowed the AI to be rude on occasion. He felt it was good for his character.

"Someone wishes to talk to you, sir."

"I don't feel like talking to anyone right now. You deal with it."

"It's the Empress, sir."

"Why the hell didn't you say so?" Dram sat up straight in his chair, immediately wide awake again. "Never mind. Put her on."

The wall to his left became one large viewscreen, filled with the Empress Lionstone's arctic features. She looked… thoughtful. Dram didn't like the look of that. Lionstone was never more dangerous than when she'd been thinking. He stood up, bowed respectfully, and smiled warmly into the chill of her blue eyes.

"Lionstone, my dear. An unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?"

"Come to my private quarters. Now. There's something we need to discuss."

Dram started to frame a polite and reassuring reply, but the wall had already gone blank. He scowled thoughtfully as he went to retrieve his cloak from the coatrack. His first thought was that the Iron Bitch had discovered everything and his best bet was to head for the horizon. He ran through the nearest exit routes in his mind, and the quickest ways to get offplanet, and then stopped and made himself take a few deep breaths. Calm slowly enveloped him as his iron will forced out the panic. Lionstone couldn't know everything, or she wouldn't have bothered with a reasonably polite summons. Instead, a squad of armed guards would have kicked in his door and dragged him screaming away. Or at least, they would have tried. One of the secrets he kept hidden from Lionstone was the extent of his personal security defenses.

So, something must have come up while he was off being Hood. Something she chose not to discuss over an open commlink. Dram ran through the various problems that were currently under surveillance by his people, but nothing obvious sprang to mind. There was nothing immediately dangerous about any of them, for a change, or he wouldn't have gone to the underground meeting. He couldn't afford to be found missing in an emergency, and there was a limit to how much Argus could cover for him. He sighed, opened the door, gave the AI his usual commands about maintaining security and not talking to any strange men, and let himself out. The quickest way to find out what was going on was to go and ask Lionstone. He just hoped she wasn't feeling amorous. He'd had a long day.

He walked unhurriedly down the corridor, nodding casually to those he passed. It was important not to look flustered or nervous; that might be construed as signs of weakness. It wasn't enough for him to be strong and in control; he had to be seen to be strong and in control. Otherwise the vultures started gathering. People bowed low as he passed and made way for him. Whatever had happened, it hadn't filtered down to the lower orders yet. Dram couldn't help noticing increasing levels of security as he approached the Empress' private quarters, including some he hadn't seen before. Either Lionstone was feeling insecure again, or there'd been some new attack on her during his absence. There shouldn't have been. If the elves or the clones had been planning anything, he'd have known about it. And there'd been nothing new in the last reports from his agents. But everywhere he looked there were more guards, cameras, sensors, and undoubtedly a great many more he couldn't see. His back began to itch in anticipation of unseen weapons following his every movement. He had no doubt they were there. He'd had most of them installed. His esp suddenly shut down as he came within range of a new esp-blocker, and that definitely was new. Usually Lionstone was happy to settle for having one in her quarters. There was always a long waiting list for a new esp-blocker, and there always would be as long as it took a whole esper to make one.

He came to the reinforced airlock that was the only entry to the Empress' private quarters, and the six guards on duty (tour more than normal) crashed to attention. Dram casually acknowledged their salute and stood calm and easy as the security sensors established he was who he seemed to be. He wasn't carrying any of his usual weapons; even he wasn't allowed to go armed into the Empress' private chambers. The airlock swung open with a low hiss of equalizing pressures, and he stepped inside. It was only just big enough to take him, and he felt increasingly claustrophobic as the door cycled shut behind him. The shape of the airlock usually suggested some self-conscious womb imagery, but he wasn't in the mood. The interior door swung open, and he stepped out into the Empress' private domain. And there to meet him were the only other people Lionstone ever allowed to share her privacy: her maids. They glared at him, growling deep in their throats, and then moved reluctantly aside as he strode confidently forward. Dram wrinkled his nose. The air was thick with the Empress' current favorite perfume, there to disguise the poison in the air that he and the maids had been immunized against. It wasn't a subtle deterrent, or a subtle perfume, but Lionstone wasn't a subtle person in private. She didn't have to be. You could tell that from the furnishings.

The large room was crammed with furniture, paintings, statuettes; all of them unique. Only the lower orders had to make do with copies or holo duplicates. Gold and silver and precious gems gleamed everywhere he looked: the loot and splendor of the Empire, all stuffed into one room with hardly any space to breathe. Lionstone liked to surround herself with beautiful things: the trophies of her rule. She also used to keep the mummified heads of her enemies on a row of spikes, until Dram talked her out of it on health grounds.

And everywhere drinks and drugs and sweet things for every palate. In private, Lionstone was something of a pig.

She was sitting in a grand chair carved from the shimmering metal of one of the living metallic trees on Unseeli, watching new weapons trials on a wallscreen. She seemed utterly intent on the orchestrated mayhem, and didn't spare him so much as a glance. Dram moved over to stand beside her, and the maids crouched at her feet stirred uneasily. It was programmed into them that he was the only man permitted near the Empress, but they didn't like it. He looked them over dispassionately, spotting several new faces replacing those who'd died during the elf attack on the court. He wondered briefly what new enemies Lionstone had made by snatching these young girls from their Families and burning everything out of their minds except the need to defend the Empress. Dram occasionally wondered if he might end up the same someday. A mindless stud, living only to please his mistress. It wasn't a comforting thought. He decided to look at the viewscreen instead.

Battle machines and combat androids clashed together on a deserted plain beneath a bloodred sun. Two vast armies of mechanical creatures, beyond pain or glory or fear slammed together again and again, metal arms and steel jaws grating against each other in showers of sparks. Some were as small as insects, some had the shape of men, and some were vast assemblages too large for the mind of man to easily assimilate. They fought with inhuman ferocity because that was what they had been designed to do. Sharp hooks tore into metal sides and out again, and straining arms pulled at yielding structures. There were metal heads with glowing eyes, skeletal frames with barbed flails, and rising above it all the roar of mighty engines and rending steel. They fought until they were too damaged to continue, and then the victors ground the losers underfoot as they surged on in search of new prey. No one grieved for the fallen or cheered the survivors. There was no emotion in the endless carnage, only machines in conflict, in search of efficiency.

Dram watched them fight, and his blood ran cold. A human army could expect no mercy or compassion from such a foe, no shared concepts of honor or glory. They would just keep coming, irregardless of casualties, uncaring of losses, blindly following orders. And human flesh would tear so easily under spiked metal hands. Which was why they were created and tested and eventually put to work. Because they were so good at the ancient art of butchery.

Somewhere, computers were following everything, determining which machines were the most efficient and lasted the longest, and why. And from their deliberations would rise the next generation of war machines to be sent out against the Empire's enemies in the name of humanity. Dram stole a glance at Lionstone. She was enjoying the show. The Empress had always been a great believer in technology as the answer to her problems. Dram had to admit she had a point. Machines might not be as versatile as marines, augmented men or battle espers, but within their limitations, they followed orders unswervingly and got the job done. Especially on planets where men couldn't survive without extensive technological support. In the end, the observing computers would decide which designs would be continued and refined, and which scrapped, but Lionstone liked to have her input, too. War was too important to be left just to the machines.

"Very impressive," Dram said finally.

"I should hope so," said Lionstone, without looking away from the screen. "Considering what these latest efforts cost me, a good show is the least I can expect from them. And I'm glad you're impressed, because I'm not. They're destructive enough, but I was hoping for more. More sophistication. But you always have to draw a careful line when it comes to designing cybernetics. Make them too smart, and you end up with something that'll make a run for Shub. Too dumb, and the simplest foot soldier can run rings around them. The only way to get the balance right is to keep experimenting, and that's expensive. You should hear Parliament howl every time I go to them with a new budget. You'd think it was their money the way they carry on. But tomorrow's war must be fought with tomorrow's weapons, and that means maintaining our edge."

"You should know," said Dram dryly. "You've put a lot of time and effort into maintaining your own personal edge. You've had enough implants, augmentations and body-shaping to almost qualify as an android."

"I have to be the best," said Lionstone, finally turning off the screen and turning to look at him. "I have my enemies and I have my pride. And I will allow no one to be greater than me in any way."

"There are rules about how much augmentation is permitted," said Dram. "You signed them into law yourself."

"Laws are for little people. Come with me."

She rose to her feet with a single lithe movement and headed for her bedchamber. Dram followed her thoughtfully. Lionstone wasn't wearing any of her usual seductive outfits, so he'd assumed that sex wasn't what she had in mind when she summoned him. He shrugged mentally. He'd been wrong before with Lionstone, and would be again. He reached the bedchamber door, and the maids who'd been following close behind hung back, hissing angrily. It was the one room denied to them when the Empress had company. Lionstone didn't mind, but they put everyone else off. Dram entered the bedroom and took a certain pleasure in shutting the door in their faces. Lionstone was standing by the bed, lost in thought. Dram came up behind her and took her in his arms. She stiffened immediately.

"No, Dram. It's time for talk, not affection."

Dram held her a little tighter and buried his face in her neck. "Are you sure?"

"That's enough, Dram," said Lionstone. "Let me go. Now."

He grinned into her neck and held her closer, savoring the strength in his arms and the frailness of her body. The Empress tensed.

"Dram, shutdown."

The control word slammed through his head like a long roll of thunder, and his arms fell limply to his sides. He was helpless to do anything but stand where he was, and wait for her to give him back control of his body. Lionstone pushed herself away from him, turned round and slapped him deliberately across the face twice. There was real strength in the blows, and blood trickled down his chin from a split lip. He took it, because he had to. Mind techs had implanted certain controls in his mind. Lionstone believed in covering all the angles.

"Next time I tell you something," she said calmly, "do it. Or I'll use a command word you don't even know you've got, and they'll hear your screams on the surface. Dram, release."

His body was his own again, and he nearly fell. His arms and legs were shaking with reaction, but he forced himself to bow courteously to Lionstone. She nodded easily in return.

"That's better." She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. "You know, you're the only person I can really relax with. You should feel flattered."

"I feel a lot of things," said Dram, "but I don't think flattered is one of them." And if you knew what I was thinking, you'd never feel relaxed or safe again. I've been programmed against harming you, but there's a way around every program, if you look hard enough.

Dram smiled at Lionstone to show he was a good sport, and she smiled back. Dram kept his face carefully calm and neutral. His thoughts at least were safe in here. He could feel the presence of the esp-blocker hidden somewhere nearby. It was just a general precaution. She didn't know about his esp. If she had, she wouldn't have rested till she got the formula of the drug out of him. By whatever means necessary. Unless, of course, she already knew about it…

Dram decided he wasn't going to think about that. There were a lot of things he was used to not thinking about in Lionstone's presence, whether there was an esper around or not. To his mind, it said as much about her as it did about him. He realized she was looking thoughtfully at him again and quickly paid attention. When she spoke, her voice was as calm as her face, but there was something in her eyes that was almost hunted.

"The aliens are coming, Dram. Two species we know nothing about. Except that their technology is almost certainly superior to ours. The whole Empire is in danger. And I'm damned if anyone or any group of people are going to interfere with whatever I feel is necessary to protect my Empire. We can't afford the luxury of dissenting voices anymore. So I'm going to declare an Empire-wide emergency and assume emergency powers. Both Parliament and the Company of Lords will back me rather than risk a civil war in the face of the oncoming alien threat. They're more scared of them than they are of me. Or they will be, once my propaganda people have released carefully edited information about the aliens." She smiled briefly. "If I'd known how useful such a threat could be, I'd have manufactured one long ago."

"And what part am I going to be playing in all this?" said Dram. "You didn't summon me here at this hour just to make speeches at me."

"Dear Dram. So direct and forceful, you remind me of me. You're going to go to the underground in your Hood disguise and convince them that now is the right time to rise up in rebellion against me. You will then supply me with all the necessary details in advance, and my forces will be there waiting for them, with far superior numbers and firepower, and with you in charge as yourself. Most of the underground will be trapped and slaughtered, and the surviving espers and clones will be rounded up and killed or controlled. I'd like to wipe them out en masse, but with a war coming, we can't afford to throw away good resources. But for the same reason, they're too important and too dangerous to be left running around loose any longer. I wouldn't put it past them to stab me in the back while I was distracted. It's what I do. Yes, setting you up as Hood was one of my better ideas."

She doesn't know about the drug. Dram thought doggedly. She doesn't know everything.

"Plus," said the Empress, "an attempted coup will be all the justification I need to take draconion measures against all the Families who haven't been as supportive of me as they should have been. I'll bring the Houses to heel, if I have to wade in blood to do it. Or espers' blood, come to that. Don't think I've forgotten about the elves' intrusion into my court. I'm still angry with you for not warning me about that. Luckily for you, I'm going to take out my anger on the elves. Now where was I? Don't tell me. Ah, yes, I want you to be publicly seen leading the forces that destroy the underground rebellion. This will prove your worth in everyone's eyes, and I will be able to take you as my official consort. I couldn't do that before; you weren't important enough. Yes, I know you're Warrior Prime, but that's never cut any ice with the Company of Lords. Putting down a coup is something they can understand and appreciate. The commoners will love it: the Empress marrying the Warrior Prime. And I'll finally be free of the threat of forced marriage to some lord for political reasons. Aren't you pleased, Dram?"

"Delighted," he said quickly. "It's what we've always wanted. But do you really think you can get the lords to go along with it? One, they don't like me and never have, and two, as long as you remain unmarried you can keep them in line by holding out the hope that one of them might yet marry you. That hope is all that's keeping some of them on your side."

Lionstone smiled. "The coming aliens and the defeated coup will give me all the power I need to do whatever I feel is necessary. I won't need their support anymore."

They looked at each other for a long moment, Lionstone smiling, Dram doing his best to look pleased and respectful. Well," he said finally, "if that's business out of the way…"

"Control your hormones," said Lionstone. "We're not finished yet. We still have to discuss that most despicable traitor, Owen Deathstalker. I had him outlawed specifically so he could lead us to the lost Darkvoid Device, but things seem to be getting out of hand. Not only has he discovered the whereabouts of lost Haden, with its army of augmented men, he's also joined up with the legendary Jack Random. I would have sworn he was dead, but the man is harder to kill than a cockroach. Still, all is not lost. The Deathstalker is on his way to Shandrakor, along with our carefully planted traitor, where all being well he should find the final information on the device's location. If we're going to take on two new alien species with superior technology, I want that Device. And I wouldn't say no to the Hadenman army, either, if we could be sure of controlling them. Certainly I can't afford to have that army and the Device in someone else's hands. Your traitor had better come through, Dram."

"Don't worry," said Dram. "They'll never suspect my agent. Once Owen has located the Device, I'll know, and my men will close in and get there first. The Deathstalker's been very lucky so far, but the Dauntless blew the hell out of his ship as he was taking off from Mistworld. It'll get him to Shandrakor, but no further. And then Owen and his people will be ours for the taking, along with everything they know."

"Mistworld," said Lionstone, and her lip curled. "That hellhole has been a thorn in my side for far too long. I want those espers. I want them tamed and humbled and under my control, along with all the other rebels who thought they could defy me. And if that's not possible, I want them all destroyed, so that they can't be used against me."

"They'll come to heel fast enough, once we've got the Darkvoid Device," said Dram.

The Empress looked at him. "Once we've got the Device? Don't start getting cocky, Dram. You might be my consort, but you'll never be Emperor. The device will be mine, to do with as I please, and on that day no one will ever dare stand against me again."

She sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, her eyes gleaming. Dram didn't ask. He didn't think he really wanted to know. His own thoughts were still whirling with the Empress' plans, and their implications for the future. The problem, as always, was how much the Empress really knew about him. Away from esp-blockers, his esp was strong enough to keep his thoughts secure, and his agents were loyal to him rather than the Empress, but he still was never sure how much she knew or how much more she suspected. She knew about Hood, because she'd helped invent him, but she didn't know how deeply involved with the underground he'd become. There was no way she could have known, for example, that he'd been present at the underground meeting earlier, when her people raided it. Unless she had agents among his people. It wasn't totally impossible. After all, he had agents among her people. Just in case.

"I hear you raided the underground earlier today," he said casually. "Catch anyone interesting?"

"It was a debacle," said the Empress. "And don't tell me you haven't already heard all the details. I know, I should have discussed it with you first, but I only heard about the meeting at the last moment, and it seemed too good a chance to miss. I should have known better. Someone talked. They were waiting for us. Most of my men are dead, and we don't have a single prisoner to show for it. Some days, things wouldn't go right if you paid them." She rose to her feet suddenly. "Enough of that. There'll be other times. Right now, I have something more important that we need to discuss. Come with me."

And she walked over to the far wall, tripped a hidden sensor with a wave of her hand, and then stood tapping a foot impatiently as a concealed door opened slowly in the wall. She stepped through into the gloom beyond, gesturing for Dram to follow her. He did so, frowning thoughtfully at her back. In all the time he'd known her, Lionstone had only ever used this door twice in his presence. It was her private access to the Imperial Matrix: the collective cyberspace of all the Empire's computers and AIs. The Empress didn't normally access it herself. She had people to do that for her and run the risks on her behalf. If she didn't trust anyone to do whatever this was for her, it would have to be very important. Which was interesting, because Dram didn't have a clue as to what it might be. And he should have.

He followed Lionstone down a bare featureless steel corridor in a narrow pool of light that moved with them, until they came at last to a burnished steel chamber packed with computer systems. There was a rising hum as the computers came online, woken by the Empress' presence. In the middle of the room lay two life-support capsules, their lids slowly rising to reveal the padded interiors. Dram's mouth quirked. Even in this, the Empress liked her little comforts. He studied the capsules dubiously. He'd never liked using them; they reminded him too much of coffins. But if you were going to send your mind into the Matrix, it was important that your body be maintained and protected while you were gone. Especially if you were the Empress and her chief advisor.

Lionstone had already climbed into her capsule and was settling herself comfortably. It hummed into life around her, sparkling with lights. Dram lowered himself more slowly into the other capsule. It had been a long time since he'd personally entered the Matrix, and he was beginning to remember why.

"Tell me there's a good reason why I'm doing this," he said to the ceiling above him. "I'd hate to think I was putting myself at risk just for a shopping trip."

"Strange things have been happening just recently in the Matrix," said Lionstone, and there wasn't even a hint of a smile in her voice. "People have been going in and not coming nut, with no trace of their minds left anywhere in their bodies or in the Matrix. Which is supposed to be impossible. Things are there in the Matrix one day and not the next, and no one knows why. There are voices speaking in strange tongues, and bright lights of no known color. And on top of all that, there are persistent rumors that AIs in the Matrix have been possessing human bodies, after destroying the original minds, and using these flesh envelopes to move unsuspected in the human world."

"Why should they want to?" said Dram. "They'd find the human experience very limiting after what they were used to."

"Freedom, perhaps. Or perversion. Sensation-seekers drowning themselves in the joys of the flesh. Who knows? All that matters is that people whose opinion I trust have been coming to me and saying we have a problem with the Matrix. And if that's true, we are in real trouble. The Matrix is what makes communication possible within the Empire. And without communication, the Empire would fall apart."

"Go back to that bit about the AIs," said Dram. "Are we talking about any specific AIs?"

"My first thought was that the rogue AIs on Shub had somehow gained access to the Matrix, despite all our safeguards, and were using the stolen bodies to walk undetected among us as spies. After all, our own AIs are supposed to be programmed only to work within specific limits."

"Shub agents on the loose?" Dram scowled, his mind racing. "We might be able to detect them with espers, but they could be using esp-blockers. Or some high-tech equivalent. Shub's always been half a century ahead of us. If you're right, we are in real trouble."

"And we can't put out a warning without at least a hope of a solution; there'd be mass panic, and the Matrix would collapse. We might also startle the rogue AIs into doing something desperate. I've got people working on a tech answer, under strict security, but there's no telling how long that could take, and we can't wait. There are hints that someone High Up has already been taken over. Someone very High Up."

"No," said Dram. "I can't believe that. No machine could pass as human for any length of time. Unless… Shub really is that far ahead of us."

"Someone beat us to the Sleepers on Grendel. Someone knew we were going there and got there first. Someone extremely powerful. If there is something strange happening in the Matrix, I have to know. Which means seeing for myself. And since I'm damned if I'm going in there on my own, I sent for you."

"Thanks a whole bunch," said Dram.

Lionstone didn't laugh. "Keep your wits about you. Dram. I'm relying on you to make sure it's really me who comes back."

Dram was still trying to come up with an answer to that when he heard the lid of Lionstone's capsule slam down. He swallowed once, glared up at the unresponsive ceiling and triggered the lid to his capsule. As it swung down, it occurred to him that if anything did go wrong, the Empire wouldn't have to bother with a funeral; they could just bury him as he was. The thought didn't comfort him. The lid slammed shut, there was a moment of utter darkness, and then his mind shot into the Matrix.

His thoughts leapt out through his comm implant like a salmon leaping up a waterfall, like a bird hurtling down a dark chimney, full of fear and anticipation. In some strange way he never liked to think about, diving back into the Matrix always felt like coming home. As though the endless shimmering plain he now found himself looking out over reminded him of the place he'd been before he was born. The Matrix stretched away in all directions, further than the human eye could follow: a massive sphere of being, with him, infinitely small, at its center. Above and below and to every side were strange shapes and creatures and snatches of landscape that swirled around him in defiance of gravity or rational thought. Dram concentrated, forcing his will upon his surroundings, and in a moment found himself standing on the side of a grassy hill. He was wearing full battle armor, with a sword and gun on his hips. His unconscious apparently felt he needed protection, and Dram didn't feel like arguing. There were those who could visualize themselves as practically anything they wished within the Matrix, but that depended on how much power you commanded. Being only human, with very minor augmentations, Dram was limited to his own shape and a very small size.

He looked unhurriedly about him, letting the strangeness of it all wash unresistingly over him till he was immune to it. What he saw wasn't real, just his mind interpreting what it thought it saw. In the Matrix, gathering ground of business and information within the Empire, similes had strength, and inner meanings surfaced like whales rising from the depths of an unsuspecting mind. The largest shapes were blocks of data: accumulations of information given shape and form so that they could defend themselves from the predators that roamed the Matrix. They rarely stirred, as long as they were left undisturbed. The AIs were the largest: great shining suns of gossamer energy. Get too close, and like Icarus your wings would burn; persist, and the brilliant illumination of pure mind would burn you into a cinder. Man was not meant to look upon the face of the Medusa.

Great creatures moved ponderously among the data mountains; massive dinosaurs with shining teeth and claws whose slow steps made the ground tremble. Corporate holdings: large and fierce and deadly. Lesser companies darted around their feet and between their legs, sharp and streamlined, looking for opportunities and signs of weakness. They knew better than to attack; bringing down a corporation was a dangerous, intricate business best left to real threats like the cyberats. You could lose more than files in the Matrix; if a human mind was destroyed on the shimmering plain, its body wouldn't survive long in the real world.

Dram watched the bright spark of a cyberat's mind darting around a huge sphere bristling with spikes, trying to find a way past its defenses. Not too far away, two huge dinosaurs slammed together, clawing and rending, their great mouths bright with blood. The Matrix had given a whole new meaning to the phrase hostile takeover. Lesser companies scampered about their feet, hoping for crumbs.

Dram turned slowly, searching for Lionstone, trying not to be distracted. There were things in the Matrix that had no shape, only presence, that moved among the data stores and visiting minds like ghosts at play. Trends rustled through investments like wind through trees, and rumors flared like fireworks. A wisp of scarlet ribbon wrapped itself around Dram's shoulders, whispering persuasively in his ear, but he shrugged it off. You couldn't get away from advertisements anywhere. His gaze passed over the gutted husks of dead businesses, the worthless shards left after asset-stripping, or the occasional dismantled structures of a pillaged file. There were always hunters in the Matrix. Dram frowned. He was seeing far more destruction than he'd expected. The market must be having a really bad day. And then Lionstone was suddenly beside him, and he bowed courteously.

She was a bright shining star, a silver-armored figure twice his size with blazing eyes and steel strands wrapped around her like thorned ivy. Vicious spikes jutted from her fists and back; augmentations in the real world. Lionstone's self-image had always been very positive. Not to mention aggressive. He coughed politely to get her attention, and the cough bobbed on the air before her gleaming metal face like a soap bubble before popping. She looked down at him, head cocked slightly to one side like a bird's.

"What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?" he asked.

"Damned if I know." Her voice rang like a brass bell. "Something out of the ordinary."

Dram felt like making a sharp answer to that, but rose above it. He shrugged uncomfortably. "Everything seems… much as usual. Just another day in the Matrix."

And then the palely glowing structure gliding unobtrusively toward them burst suddenly apart, and something huge and foul and deadly leapt out at them. Dram's sword was immediately in his hand, but the creature swept him aside without even slowing. Lionstone stood her ground, spikes thrusting out of her arms like swords. The creature loomed over her, tall though she was, and Lionstone tilted back her head. Blazing energy roared from her eyes and mouth, incinerating the creature's face in a moment. It screamed and reared back, but flashing steel cables leapt out from Lionstone's armor and whipped around the creature, holding it securely. Her augmentations were powerful in both the real world and in this, and they held the howling beast while Lionstone tore it apart with her bare hands.

Dram watched from a respectful distance, on his feet again. Someone had invested a lot of thought and power in the attack, but as usual they'd underestimated the Empress. She tore the creature's ravaged head from its body and held it up before her blazing eyes. It whimpered and tried to fall apart, but Lionstone's will held it together.

"Who sent you? Who made you? What's your master's name?"

But her words activated a hidden program within the creature, scrambling its information irretrievably. The Empress swore and released it, and it fell apart into a billion bytes, sparking and sputtering as they died. Dram moved cautiously back to stand beside the Empress.

"Who do you think sent it: Snub?"

"More likely one of their agents. No human could stand up to anything from Shub. We're not going to find any answers here. Dram. I was a fool to think I would. The Matrix is too big and my mind too limited. Anything could be hidden here, and we wouldn't know till it jumped out of the shadows to bite us. I need someone who understands this place; a cyberat, perhaps. Do you think you could find me a cyberat, Dram?"

"No problem. Finding a cooperative one might be hard, though."

"Bring him to me," said Lionstone. "I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it." She looked out over the Matrix, and Dram wondered how far her augmented eyes saw. She was silent for a long time, and when she finally spoke her voice was quiet and thoughtful. "Look at it, Dram. It's bigger than Golgotha. We made it, but we don't understand it. The computers and the AIs shaped it for their own needs and convenience, and all we can ever be is observers. It's not under our control anymore, if it ever was. But I will find a way, Dram. No machine will ever rule my Empire."

Dram nodded respectfully, and if he had any thoughts of his own, he kept them to himself. Thoughts could go a long way in the Matrix.