Deathstalker

The Madness Maze

It was black as the deepest pit of hell, and not a light anywhere. Once there had been stars, burning bright in the darkness, but they were gone. No suns shone in the Darkvoid, and its frozen planets sailed silently in a night without end. The Last Standing of the original Deathstalker dropped out of hyperspace without a murmur and drifted into orbit around the lifeless rock of the Wolfling World, also known as lost Haden. The castle hung above the planet in a halo of its own light, a huge stone structure with towers and battlements, looking down over an endless abyss. The light didn't travel far, as though the darkness resented it, but some of it touched the Wolfling World, gleaming gently on the frozen atmosphere. There was no sign of life on the planet; all its mysteries were deep underground, safely concealed in the hidden heart of lost Haden.

Inside the Standing, the small group of rebels stood before a wide viewscreen that showed what it could of the planet below. Owen Deathstalker, outlawed Lord of Virimonde, who still thought himself a historian rather than a warrior. Hazel d'Ark, pirate, bon vivant and reluctant rebel. Jack Random the professional rebel and Ruby Journey the bounty hunter. Tobias Moon, the augmented man, come home at last. And Giles, the original Deathstalker, creator of the Darkvoid. They looked at the darkness he had brought about by the snuffing of a thousand suns and felt a little of the long night's chill seep into their bones. There were still stars on the far side of the Rim, outside the Darkvoid, but something in the void's essential nature prevented any light from entering. Owen found his hand had fallen instinctively to the sword at his hip. There was something dangerous, even threatening, about such absolute darkness.

"Welcome to the Wolfling World," said Giles. He was still wrapped in his battered, greasy furs and was gnawing on his third protein cube. Apparently being kept in stasis for over nine centuries had given him something of an appetite. Owen had tried one of the protein cubes earlier, on learning it was the only kind of food the castle could currently produce, and had decided very definitely that he'd rather go hungry. Giles wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and studied the Darkvoid with enigmatic eyes.

"This is the first light that planet has seen in nine hundred and forty-three years. I suppose it's only fitting that I should be the one to bring back the light, since I was the one who took it away. Sometimes I wonder if there are things living in the dark places between the planets, dark creatures, thriving in the endless night I brought about in a moment of fury and weakness.

"The last time I was here, this was a living world, brimming with life. There were oceans and continents, beasts of the earth and of the air, cities and people. There were beautiful birds with tails of fire, and tourists flew through the Sighing Mountains on chartered gravity sleds. All gone now, crushed under the weight of a frozen atmosphere. All that remains are the Madness Maze and the Hall of the Fallen, and the cities and laboratories of lost Haden, quarried deep in the heart of the planet. Undisturbed for so long, waiting for us to awaken them."

"Tell us about the Wolflings," said Hazel. She kept her eyes on the viewscreen, her hands automatically polishing her sword blade with a dirty rag that also served as a handkerchief. "You said they were created here."

"Yes. Born and died here, all but one. They were the Empire's first try at creating genetically engineered soldiers. A pinch of man, a pinch of wolf, and a few special ingredients. It took them a while to get the mix just right, but finally they ended up with a perfect hunting and killing machine, unparalled in human evolution. The Wolfling."

"So what went wrong?" said Ruby. She was watching Giles with her usual impassive face, her pale features almost ghostly above her black leathers. Owen couldn't help noticing that she had her hand resting near her sword, too.

"Nothing went wrong with the Wolflings," said Giles. "They were everything they were supposed to be, and more besides. It was the more that upset the scientists. The Wolflings were smart, far smarter than their human masters. Faster, stronger, more savage—and smarter too? The scientists saw the possible shape of things to come and panicked. They called in the Imperial forces, lured the Wolflings to an arranged meeting and shot them down from ambush. Of course, the Wolflings fought back. Killed a lot of men before they finally went down. Some got away and had to be hunted down. The Empire lost a lot more soldiers doing that, but eventually they got them all. Except for one. The best of the best, and the most cunning. He evaded capture and all the traps they set. He was still here when the Empire finally gave up, and the Imperial forces went home. Sightings grew less and less, until finally he became just another myth, a legend, a story to tell newcomers. Of course he wasn't really dead. He'd gone underground.

"He was still here when the Darkvoid fell, and everyone but he died.

"He was still here when the scientists of lost Haden ventured into the Darkvoid in search of a safe place to hide their laboratories. He watched as they experimented upon themselves, designing ever more intricate hybrids of man and machine. The Hadenmen. He was there when they went out to conquer the Empire, and when they came limping back, defeated, to hide themselves away in their tomb and wait for a better time. He's down there now, watching and waiting, impossibly old, incredibly powerful, standing guard over the Madness Maze and the Hall of the Fallen."

"How do you know so much about it?" said Random. "You were in stasis on Shandrakor while most of this was going on."

"The Wolfling has been talking to my computers," said Giles. "And they have been talking to me. He's waiting to talk to us. Let's all be very polite, and perhaps he won't kill us."

"He could try," said Ruby.

"What do we need him for?" said Moon.

"I told you: he guards the Madness Maze."

"And what's that when it's at home?" said Hazel. "Something the Haden scientists came up with?"

"Oh, no, my dear. It's much older than that. There's nothing human about the Madness Maze. It was here long before humanity ever came to this world. The Empire colonists discovered it, deep within the planet, but they never did discover what it was. The Haden scientists deduced its function, but they had more important matters on their minds, the fools."

"All right," said Owen. "I'll bite. What is the purpose of the Madness Maze?"

"Evolution," said Giles. "And I am the only one ever to make use of its secrets. Now let's go down and say hello to the Wolfling. By the way, a word to the wise. He is currently under the misapprehension that we have a whole army of rebels on board this ship. Let's not disillusion him. You never know when you might need to run a bluff."

"How do we get down there?" said Moon. His harsh, buzzing voice sounded as calm as it ever did, but his blazing golden eyes never once looked away from the planet on the viewscreen. "Do you have any pinnaces or shuttlecraft on this floating anachronism?"

"As it happens, yes, but we can't use them. There's no way to reach the Maze or the Tomb of the Hadenmen from the surface anymore. What remains of the atmosphere has frozen solid. We'll teleport down. I left a portal close to the Maze the last time I was here. According to the Standing's instruments, it's still functioning. We built things to last in my day. When we weren't busy destroying them. If you'd all care to prepare yourselves as you see fit, we can go as soon as you're ready. Feel free to help yourselves to anything that catches your interest in the armory, but don't take too long about it. The Standing's power sources were nearly depleted when I came to Shandrakor, all those centuries ago, and most of what was left was used up maintaining the Standing. Until I have the opportunity to recharge the power cells, this ship isn't going anywhere. We're in no immediate danger, but unless you like the idea of being stranded on a world whose only points of interest are an alien Maze and a large Tomb, I suggest we all hurry."

Owen and Hazel made their way down to the armory, where an empty suit of armor with a missing helm politely opened the door for them. Owen regarded it suspiciously. He didn't remember it being there the last time he'd visited. Hazel ignored the armor and made straight for the more impressive-looking projectile weapons. Owen watched amusedly as she loaded herself down with guns and bandoliers of ammunition. He settled for a nasty-looking handgun that used big, bulky bullets and a few grenades to fill his pockets. No doubt they'd come in handy, but on the whole he still thought he'd stick with the weapons he was used to. Guns were all very well, but in his experience, in the end it always came down to cold steel, and the man wielding it. Besides, at the rate Hazel was accumulating guns, they'd have to move her around on a trolley. She continued rooting through the rifle racks, unaware of his growing amusement, and finally came up with a gun so long and heavy it took all her strength just to lift and aim it.

"Good choice," said Owen solemnly. "When you run out of ammunition, you can use it to club the enemy to death."

Hazel sniffed and reluctantly put the rifle back. She looked at her collection of guns and grinned suddenly at Owen.

"Come a long way, haven't we, aristo? From a not particularly successful pirate and an outlawed Lord running for his life to the leaders of a new rebellion. Who'd have thought it?"

"We're only potentially a rebellion," said Owen. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than the six of us to drag Lionstone off the Iron Throne. Jack Random's been fighting the Empire all his life, and you saw what it's done to him. All right, if we can awaken the Hadenmen, and if we can persuade them to fight on our side, then we might be in with a chance. All kinds of people might rally to our banner if they thought we already had an army. But I'm not at all happy about placing any trust in Hadenmen. Who's to say they wouldn't be following their own, hidden, agenda? They killed a lot of innocent people in their last attempt at a rebellion. The only reason they're not still officially designated the Enemies of Humanity is because the AIs on Shub are even nastier than the Hadenmen were. And that took some doing."

"You worry too much," said Hazel. "The Hadenmen will behave themselves as long as we've got control of the Darkvoid Device. You know, these are really great guns.

I've been studying their specifics in the computers. They aren't worth spit against force shields, but they'll chew up anything else you aim them at. Apparently there's something called a recoil we'll have to get used to, but no doubt we'll soon get the hang of it."

"Until we run out of ammunition," said Owen. "We can't just run back to the castle for more in the middle of a firefight. With a disrupter, you can recharge the energy crystals at any handy power source, and you're ready to go again."

"You always have to see the bad side of things, don't you? The point is, the Empire won't be expecting guns like these, and by the time they've worked out an effective response, we'll have kicked six different colors of shit out of them."

Owen frowned. "You really think the Empire is going to follow us here? Into the Darkvoid?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Yes," said Owen unhappily. "They've been right behind us all the way. There's only one answer that makes any sense. We have a traitor in our group."

"Not necessarily," said Hazel. "Someone could have planted a homing device on us."

"No. One or another of our security systems would have found it by now. It's too obvious."

"But… none of us have any reason to betray the group! We've all got good reasons for being here, and none of us have any reason to love the Empire."

"How about fear? Or blackmail? Or money? There's a hell of a lot of credits on our heads these days. People will break under all kinds of pressure."

Hazel glared at him. "Anyone you feel like pointing the finger at?"

"No," said Owen steadily. "Not at the moment. Perhaps I'm wrong. We've all been through a lot. Sometimes I feel guilty at dragging you all into my problems."

"Don't. I'm having a great time. And you didn't drag me into anything. I chose to save your sorry ass on Virimonde. And you saved my life on Mistworld, so we're even."

"I couldn't let you die."

"Why not?"

"You matter to me," said Owen slowly. "I've never met anyone like you, Hazel."

Hazel looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Don't start getting ideas, stud. This is strictly a marriage of convenience."

"Relax. Deathstalkers only marry for status. You're entirely safe."

Hazel decided to change the subject. "How many men do you think the Iron Bitch will send after us?"

"At least one starcruiser, possibly two. We've made her people look bad so far, and she won't like that. We can expect full contingents of attack troops, maybe even Wampyr and battle espers. And whether she knows the Device is here or not, this has got to be a matter of pride for her now. If she doesn't stamp on us hard, and soon, her own people will start thinking she's losing control of things. And some of them might try a little quiet insurrection of their own to test the waters. No, Lionstone will send as many troops as it takes to bring us down."

"Good," said Hazel, hefting a rifle and smiling at the weight of it. "Let them all come."

"You worry me sometimes," said Owen.

Jack Random and Ruby Journey had already outfitted themselves at the armory with a good selection of weapons and were currently in the kitchen trying to persuade the food machines to dispense anything other than protein cubes. They'd tried every combination of codes, including shouting at the machine and giving it a swift kick or two, but all they got for their troubles were more protein cubes. There were stories of marooned starfarers who'd eaten each other rather than live off those cubes, and Jack could understand why. But be was hungry, and at his age his body needed all the fuel it could get, so he made himself eat all of one cube and part of another. People had been awarded medals for less.

Ruby had refused point-blank to touch the things, but brightened up considerably on discovering the machine could dispense a quite drinkable wine. She got through half a bottle while Jack was struggling with his cubes and got quite chatty, for her. Normally, getting conversation out of the bounty hunter was like pulling teeth. To be fair, she was an action person, and most of the time really didn't have anything to say. But Jack persevered on the grounds that anything that might take his mind off what he was eating had to be a good thing, and they talked on and off for a while, mostly swapping anecdotes on particular fights and battles and the best ways to kill people.

"Why did you become a bounty hunter in the first place?" said Random eventually. "It's not an occupation that appeals to everybody."

"I was good at it," said Ruby. "And the alternatives were worse. Can you see me sitting at a desk in sensible clothes shuffling files, or married to some dirt farmer with a dozen kids hanging from my apron strings?"

"Not really, no."

"Damn right They married me off at fourteen to the local collector of the water rates. It was either that or one of my cousins. He was big and heavy, with clammy hands. He thought it was fun to knock me about. He did other things, too. I waited till he was asleep one night, and then stabbed him in the throat with a carving knife. I watched him die. It took quite a long time. That was when I first realized I had a taste for excitement. I gathered up everything valuable that wasn't nailed down, torched the place and ran for the starport. I've been on my own ever since, and I like it that way. Less complicated."

"Have you done much work for the Empire?"

"Sure. They're the ones paying the bounties, mostly. But I'm not prejudiced. I'll work for anyone with money."

"So what are you doing with us?"

"I never could resist a challenge. Besides, I was promised all the loot I could handle. Not that I've seen any of it yet."

"How did you get to be friends with Hazel?"

"You're just full of questions, aren't you?" Ruby took a long drink from her bottle. "Ran across her in Mistport, when we were both down on her luck. She got me out of a close call and pretty much adopted me. I didn't get a say in the matter. I'd have dumped her years ago, but there are times when it's good to have someone you can trust to guard your back. Time for you to answer some questions. How did you get to be a professional rebel?"

"I'm surprised you haven't heard. It was quite a famous story, in its day. But I suppose that was some time ago, and my legend isn't as respected as it once was. I was a lesser son of a lesser House, of no importance to anyone, not even myself. I drank, played cards, tried a little of this and little of that, running up debts all the way. Then I got a serving maid pregnant, and my Family sent me to run a mining planet out near the Rim to keep me out of trouble. Planet called Trigann. Horrible place.

"I'd never been outside my pampered world before, and the reality of how the other ninety-seven percent live horrified me. The conditions the miners lived in, and the way they and their families were treated, were a disgrace even by Imperial standards, so instead of stamping out their rebellion, I joined it and somehow ended up leading the damn thing. And like you, I found something I was good at and decided to stick with it.

"So I went from planet to planet, preaching insurrection, and raising armies to protect the weak and the powerless, and punish the guilty. The odds were always against us, but we won a few, now and then. Enough to make me a legend and a rallying point throughout the Empire."

"Until they caught you."

"Yes. I was getting old and slow, and I trusted the wrong people. I've always been too trusting." He sat quietly for a long time, staring at the half-eaten cube in his hands as though it could tell him something. "They broke me," he said finally. "I was so sure I'd rather die first, but no, they broke me. I would have said anything, done anything, betrayed anyone, just so they wouldn't hurt me anymore."

"But you didn't."

"No. Turned out I still had a few real friends after all. They got me out, though most of them died during it. I never even knew their names."

Ruby nodded once. "Everyone breaks, in the end."

"Yes. Even legends like Jack Random. Sometimes I think he died in that cell, and there's nothing left now but his shadow. My real friends hadn't give up on me, but I gave up on them. I wouldn't lead their rebellion, I wouldn't help them fight. I didn't want to do anything but hide in a dark room where my tormentors couldn't find me. After a while, my friends realized I was no use to them and never would be, but they still didn't give up on me. They smuggled me to Mistworld, the one place where the Empire wouldn't follow me. A place where everyone has secrets, but nobody cares. I dived into the shadows and disappeared there. I took a new name. It wasn't difficult. I didn't look much like a legend anymore. I quite liked being Jobe Ironhand. No one expected anything from him."

"All that time, hiding in plain sight," said Ruby. "I spent a lot of time looking for you. I could have used the money. And there you were, right under my nose." She smiled briefly. "I'm glad I didn't find you then. I would have been so disappointed. You're different, now."

Random raised an eyebrow. "I am?"

"Sure. You're waking up. You aren't what you used to be, but you're getting there. What did it, Random? What lured you back into the spotlight?"

"You want the truth? I was bored. Simple as that. I'm still scared most of the time, and my hands shake when they think I'm not looking, but anything's better than pushing that damn broom around. There were quite a few days when even death seemed better than that. So here I am, one last tight for an old champion well past his prime."

"You did well enough in the jungle," said Ruby. "Lots of people wouldn't have survived to reach the Standing. Don't talk yourself down, Random. I never had much use for legends. I killed a lot of them, looking for one real one, but they died as easily as anyone else. You impress me a lot more than most of them."

"Thank you," said Random. "Good thing you didn't find me. It would have been such a pity if I'd killed you before I got to know you."

Ruby grinned briefly and offered him her bottle. "Drink?"

"Wish I could. My system can't handle it anymore. Kidneys took a few beatings too many. You drink. I'll enjoy it vicariously."

"You feel that way about all your pleasures?"

"Not necessarily," said Random. "If I was just twenty years younger, I'd chase you round this table a few times."

"Great," said Hazel, from the doorway. "Just what we needed. A drunken bounty hunter and a horny legend. The Imperial troops will take one look and piss themselves from sheer terror."

"I admire the man's courage," said Owen, beside her. "I wouldn't want to get within ten feet of Ruby Journey without a chair and a whip."

"Always knew you aristos were into the kinky stuff," said Ruby. "I'd offer you a drink, but I've only got the one bottle."

"I'll join you," said Hazel. "I could use a drink of something even halfway decent."

"Ah, yes," said Random. "You always did have a weakness for drink, as I recall."

Hazel looked at him. "You recall? I wasn't aware we'd met before."

"It was some time ago, on Mistworld. Someone recognized me and invited me to dinner. And I went because I was hungry. You were working for my host as a ladies' maid. They were short of staff, and they pressed you into service at the dinner table."

Ruby's head came up, and she looked at Hazel with a slow grin spreading across her face. "You were a ladies' maid. Hazel?"

"How the hell would you remember me?" said Hazel, glaring at Random.

"I have an excellent memory for faces. Besides, you spilled most of a bottle of rather good port over me. Ruined the last good pair of trousers I had."

"You were a ladies' maid?" said Ruby.

Hazel scowled. "I said I was sorry."

"No, you didn't. You said—

"Never mind what I said!"

"You brought it up."

"You were a ladies' maid?" said Ruby.

"Sure," said Random. "She looked very pretty in the uniform, too."

"I'll bet," said Ruby.

"If any of you tell anyone else, I'll kill you," said Hazel.

"I believe her," said Owen.

"Don't worry, sweetie," said Ruby, still grinning. "Your secret is safe with us."

"There's something I wanted to ask you, Random," said Hazel in the manner of someone determined to change the subject. "Owen and I were talking about some of the campaigns you fought in. You led rebellions that covered entire worlds, commanded whole armies. Even had your own attack fleet, at one time. What I want to know is where did all the money come from? Wars are expensive. Men, supplies, guns. Who funded all those armies and attack ships? I never heard you were independently wealthy. So who paid the bills?"

"Men of good will," said Jack Random. "Mostly. The rest came from anywhere I could raise it. There were always people around with an interest in seeing authority toppled, or at least challenged. Political groups, persecuted religions, businessmen who stood to make a profit from war. Young nobles who couldn't wait to inherit, or who were looking for a little excitement. There were always factions jostling for position within the Empire, ready to sell each other out for a moment's advantage. I learned not to ask too many questions.

"After all, as I told myself on more than one occasion, lesser evils are better than greater ones. And I could always lead another rebellion against the new people in power, if necessary. There was never any shortage of courageous, idealistic young cannon fodder in those days.

"Never any shortage of loot, either. I took what I had to in order to do what I had to. And if sometimes I had to deal with scum, or place my trust in men of evil, well, there was already too much blood on my hands for me to ever be innocent again." He smiled at Owen. "You're looking quite shocked, Deathstalker. Sorry, I seem to be just one disappointment after another for you, but that's life. My life, anyway. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take a little walk; limber up the old muscles before we have to go dirtside. Play nicely, now."

He left the kitchen without looking back. He'd said all he felt like saying. No doubt they'd talk about him while he was gone, but they'd have done that anyway, and he preferred not to be around when they did it. He made himself be patient until he was well out of their way, and then he stopped and produced a battered silver flask from an inner pocket. He unscrewed the cap with steady fingers, raised the flask to his mouth and took a good swallow of the bland, almost tasteless liquid. He might not be able to handle booze anymore, but he'd be no use at all without an occasional jolt of the good stuff. He looked at the silver flask and sighed quietly. There was a time he'd thought battle drugs were just for cowards and fools, but time had taught him differently. Sometimes it seemed the only courage he had left came out of that flask. And he did so want to be a legend again, if only for his new friends' sake. They'd been through so much already, and faced so much more. They needed a legend. Jack Random sighed, raised the flask to his mouth, and then lowered it again without drinking. He screwed the cap back on and put the flask back in his pocket.

He strode on down the quiet corridor, his footsteps echoing back from the stone walls. His legs felt firmer, and he was breathing more easily. Give him some time, and a few more jolts of the right stuff, and he might be some good in a fight after all. He smiled sadly, remembering the feisty young warrior he once was. Ready to draw his blade at the drop of an insult, to avenge a lady's honor, or his own, or just because he was the best and no one could touch him. A crack shot with any kind of gun, he could pilot any damn thing that flew and plot strategy with the best generals the rebellion had to offer. He'd forged his legend day by day, world by world, and he'd made the Empire fear him as it feared no other.

But that was a long time ago now. War takes a lot out of you, and one of the first things it takes is your youth. He'd grown old and hard on the field of battle and never missed his youth till it was gone. But he still had to be the best. People needed him, depended on him, believed in him. For a long time that was all he needed, drawing his strength from the fervor of their belief. But as the years wore on, and failure after failure wore him down, he turned first to drink and then to drugs, and finally to battle drugs. At first he had reasons, and then excuses, until finally there was only the need. On Mistworld he'd learned to live without them, as he learned to do without courage or honor. A janitor's world was simple and undemanding, and he gratefully lost himself in it. He just took a drop now and again to get his heart started on cold mornings. Or for emergencies, like now, when he really didn't feel like Jack Random at all.

He found Tobias Moon in a side room, sitting alone, looking at the frozen planet below on a viewscreen. The Hadenman's face was as cold and emotionless as ever, and he sat stiffly in his chair as though only waiting there because he'd been told to wait, when all he wanted was to be going. Random hesitated in the doorway, uncertain whether it was wise or necessary to disturb Moon, and then the Hadenman spoke suddenly without turning around.

"Come in, Jack Random. It's been a long time since we talked together before a battle."

Random swore silently and did his best to seem relaxed and confident as he entered the room and pulled up a chair beside Moon. Although the Hadenman claimed to have fought at his side during the Cold Rock campaign, Random couldn't honestly say he remembered the man. Cold Rock had been a hard and bloody struggle, with a lot of good men killed, but even so he should have remembered a Hadenman. They'd been extremely scarce on the ground after their failed rebellion, mainly because most people shot them on sight, just in case. But Random had to admit his memory wasn't what it was, like so many other things in his life. Some things were still crystal clear, but some were lost forever, and more were confused. The Imperial mind techs had really done a job on him. He wriggled surreptitiously on the hard chair, trying to get comfortable, and wondered what the hell he was going to talk about. The Hadenman spoke first.

"I have no memory of being here in the city or laboratories of lost Haden. I was quickened offworld, on a ship between planets, between battles. The rebellion was going badly, and my superiors needed all the units they could muster. I fought in many battles, on many worlds, following the orders of my superiors. I killed men and women and children. After the rebellion, most of my people were dead or fled back to Haden, to their Tomb, and I was abandoned to my own devices. I had no idea where Haden was. For a time I continued fighting. It was what I knew. I fought on many sides, on many planets, but all the causes looked the same to me, and I grew bored. I traveled for a few years, searching for new challenges, but already my energy crystals were becoming depleted, and the technology necessary to recharge or replace them could only be found in Imperial strongholds, where my kind would find no welcome. Eventually, I ended up on Mistworld, little better than any human.

"Can you understand what that meant, to be merely human? I had been capable of so much; I was strong and fast and my senses saw so much more of the universe than your simple organics. But every day I grew weaker, and saw less, and my thoughts were no longer quicksilver fast.

"For a long time, I existed only to exist. I had no plans, no hope, no future. And then word came of the outlawed Deathstalker, and I remembered the intrigues of his Family, and dared to hope again. He led me to you, and then brought me home, to lost Haden and the Tomb of my people. I have a chance to be complete again, among my own kind. I owe him everything. But once my people are awakened, I must follow the orders of my superiors once again, whatever they might be."

Ransom frowned. "You think they might refuse to join the Deathstalker's rebellion against the Empire? Surely they'll see that it has to be in their best interests to join with us?"

"You don't understand. You and your fellow rebels are all human, and for a long time that was just another word for enemy. It is a central creed of Hadenman thought that we were created to replace you. You are weak, soft, inferior. But I have lived among you, and I have seen strengths and potential that my young race as yet lacks. They would say you have infected me with your weaknesses. Perhaps they are right. I truly do not know whether I am a Hadenman, a human, or something else, less or more than both. I have waited so long to be a part of my people again, to be a fully functioning augmented man, but now… I am not sure where I truly belong. I'm not sure of anything anymore."

"You're bound to be nervous. That's only human."

"But I am not supposed to be human. I shouldn't even be thinking these thoughts. I am a Hadenman, the next evolutionary step forward in our species. That's what my people will say when they walk out from their Tomb. I have finally returned home, to lost Haden, only to find it does not feel like home at all."

The Hadenman rose abruptly to his feet and left the room, moving silently and gracefully with his usual inhumanly perfect poise. Random didn't go after him. He doubted he could have kept up with Moon, and even if he had, he didn't know what he would have said. What do you say to a man mourning the loss of his own inhumanity? So Random sat back in his uncomfortable chair and studied the viewscreen, wondering if he should tell the others what he'd heard. The frozen planet stared back at him, mute and enigmatic and full of secrets. He heard footsteps approaching, and turned quickly in his chair in case it was Moon coming back. But the man in the doorway was the original Deathstalker, the man called Giles. He looked tired, and perhaps just a little lost. He gestured for Random to stay seated and sank into the chair beside him. He looked at the world on the viewscreen and sniffed once.

"Ugly planet. Didn't look much better when it was alive, from orbit. Maybe that made it easier to destroy it. I never thought to see it again. When I landed the Last Standing on Shandrakor, I was expecting to die. Everyone's hand was turned against me. Some for using the Darkvoid Device, some because I was determined it would never be used again. No one was more surprised than I when the dust finally settled and I found I'd killed all the people sent to kill me. Part of me had wanted to die. So I went into stasis in the hope that things would work themselves out before I had to waken again. I should have known better. Things are more complicated now than they were before. Three different kinds of augmented men, rogue AIs, an insane Empress on the Iron Throne, and not one but two possible alien threats. And my descendant, the Deathstalker of this time, is a historian."

"He's a good man," said Random. "He fights well, when he has to, and he has a good head on his shoulders. He cares about people, and mostly for the right reasons. You could have done a lot worse."

"I hear much the same about you," said Giles. "They tell me you're a famous warrior and a great leader of the rebellion."

Random sighed. "Maybe once. I'm not sure anymore. I spent most of my life fighting on one world after another, giving up all hope of love or family or a normal life, just to lead a struggle whose end was always just over the next horizon. I saw good men die, over and over again, many better men than me, and all for nothing. The Empire's as strong now as it ever was, and I'm just an old man with nowhere safe to lay his head."

"It's not whether we win or lose," said Giles. "It's how many of the bastards we can take with us. Anyone can look away and pretend they don't see evil, as long as it doesn't affect them. But a man of honor has no choice but to stand up and do something. Whatever happens, you and I have lived the life we chose. Too many people live the lives other people think they ought to, following orders they don't agree with, for causes they don't believe in. They live lives that don't matter, that touch no one and change nothing. For better or worse, you and I stared evil in the eye and didn't flinch. We raised our swords and went to war, and even if we didn't win we kicked some ass along the way. We made a difference, and that's all any man can ask."

"Yes," said Jack Random. "We got a lot of people killed who followed us expecting miracles. Aren't you ever bothered by ghosts, Giles?"

"Of course. Some of them are waiting for me on the planet below. But I make my decisions based on the future, not the past. Ghosts have to know their place."

"It must be wonderful to be so strong, so sure," said Random. "To have all the answers. If you have a moment, pity us poor mortals with our doubts and failings."

He got up and left, brushing past Owen in the doorway without speaking to him. Owen turned to watch him stalk away down the corridor and then looked at Giles.

"What's got into him?"

"He's just feeling his age. Preparing for battle will do that to you. It's a time to open your heart to strangers and hope for absolution. Is that what you've come to me for, kinsman?"

"No. I was just passing and heard voices."

"So how are you feeling? Ready for the fray?"

"I suppose so. It's not like I have any choice in the matter, is it? Ever since this all began, I've been harried from planet to planet, with the bad guys never more than a few minutes behind me. No time to think, let alone rest. And no matter which way I turn, all I hear is duty, duty. Fight for this cause, fight for that, fight just for the right to stay alive. What choices have I had recently?"

"There are always choices, kinsman. You can choose to fight or to run, to be strong or weak. To take joy in fighting the good fight and never bowing to a villain. You come from a Family of warriors who never surrendered to greater odds, or struck for a peace they didn't believe in. We have a tradition of facing and rising above whatever obstacles fate places in our path, and meeting our enemies with cold steel in our hands and a smile on our lips. We have always been heroes, warriors, men of destiny."

"Save the pep speech for someone who believes in it," said Owen. "I've been hearing that shit all my life. It didn't save my father when the Empire sent a master swordsman after him, and it won't save us when Lionstone's forces arrive here. We are six people, facing the might of the Empire. Our chances suck. Our only hope for survival lies in waking a race of semihuman beings who might or might not wipe us out on sight, and hope we can convince them to fight alongside us. That's assuming they don't decide to wipe out all of Humanity like they tried to the last time. We are outnumbered, outgunned, and out of luck. I'm a historian; I've seen what happens to rebellions without massive funding, big armies and a solid power base. We don't stand a chance, Giles. The odds are we're going to die, and die bloody."

Giles smiled easily. "If we're going to die anyway, we might as well die well. Die fighting and take as many of the bastards with you as you can. If that's all that's left to you, go down still swinging your sword. Make them pay for their victory."

"Oh, very romantic. My father would have loved you. He believed in all that crap, too, but he still ended up dying alone on a main concourse, with his guts scattered over the street, while people walking by gave him plenty of room so they wouldn't get blood on their shoes. It's all right for you to talk like that. You were Warrior Prime. You led armies. I never wanted to be a warrior. All I ever wanted was to be left alone to read my books and work on my histories. Instead. I've been forced to fight and kill people I don't even know, just so I can lead a rebellion I'm not even sure I believe in.

"Even if by some miracle we did win, what use would Jack Random's Empire have for an ex-aristocrat like me? I represent everything he and his kind want to be rid of. They'd probably end up putting me on trial for exploitation of the masses. And all your romantic talk of taking your enemies down with you; what did that lead to last time? Using the Darkvoid Device. How many billions of innocents died because of that? You know how you're remembered in my history books? As the greatest mass murderer of all time."

"That's right," said Giles. "I am. I placed my trust in the Iron Throne, and it betrayed me. You have to understand how tempting the Device was then; a way to stop a systems-wide rebellion at one stroke. I wasn't even sure it would work. It was only afterward, when the first reports began to come in, that I realized the true horror of what I'd done. In order to justify myself, I plunged into research, examining the reasons behind the rebellion. And found, to my astonishment, that they had been right all along. The Empire was cruel and corrupt, both in choice and in nature. The system itself was evil.

"So I took the Device and ran. Gave up every honor I had or hoped to achieve to ensure that the horror of the Darkvoid would never be repeated. We do not fight here for pleasure or profit, historian, but because we must if evil is not to prevail."

"You see?" said Owen. "We're back to choice again. And I don't have any. I can't back out, go back to being who and what I was: a naive innocent, who never questioned where his comforts came from. I've seen too much; things I turned my head away from before. I have no excuse. I was a historian; I knew the suffering and injustice the Empire was built on. I just told myself it was nothing to do with me.

"My father lived for his intrigues against the Iron Throne. So much so that he never seemed to have any time for me. So I never had any time for his intrigues. I made my own life as a quiet, uncontroversial scholar. I should have known it wouldn't last. And once I had my face shoved into the bloody underside of the Empire, I couldn't look away anymore. Too many innocents are being hurt, every day, as a matter of course. So I'll be the warrior my Family wanted me to be. I'll be a rebel and fight for the cause, and if need be die for it, but don't you ever think I'm doing this of my own will."

"Of course you are," said Giles. "You said it yourself. You couldn't look away, once you saw how things really are. Same thing happened to Jack Random, to your father and to me. Everyone here thinks they're fighting for their own reasons, but in the end we'll fight and maybe die because we can't look away. We won't let ourselves. It's as good a reason to fight as any, and better than most. I've listened when the others talked of you. You're not interested in being a fighter or a hero or a leader of men; you just want to do the right thing. And that's the only kind of warrior that's worth a damn. If I had to have a historian as my descendant, I'm happy enough it's you. I could have done a lot worse.

"Now, let's go round up the others. We'll be teleporting down to the Madness Maze soon, and there are things I need to discuss with all of you first. The situation down below is… rather complicated."

"Now there's a surprise," said Owen, and his ancestor laughed.

"Come, kinsman; it is a good day for someone else to die."

Hazel d'Ark and Ruby Journey had pulled up chairs around the kitchen table and were passing a second bottle of wine back and forth between them. They leaned well back, their heels up on the edge of the table, and rocked themselves gently. Hazel didn't much care for the wine, but she determinedly drank her share, hoping it would quiet the growing tension within her. She always got jumpy when there was action coming up. She was okay once things got started, because then she was too busy to be scared. She just hated the waiting. She looked across at Ruby's calm, impassive features and felt like throwing something heavy at her. Nothing ever bothered Ruby.

"So," said Ruby. "Are you sleeping with him?"

Hazel blinked. "With who?"

"The aristo, of course. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's pretty enough, and looks like he might know a few things."

"Not my type," said Hazel briskly.

"You've never been choosy before. Some of the creeps you've shacked up with would have had to take a gene test to prove they were human. You always were a sucker for a nice smile and a cute little ass. Personally, I quite fancy Moon."

"The Hadenman? You've got to be kidding! I'm not even sure how much of him is human. He probably only does it with vending machines."

"Still, I bet I could make him crack a smile, if I put my mind to it. Besides, I'm told Hadenmen have all kinds of… special augmentations. And there's always Jack Random. A bit older and more battered than I usually go for, but he was always something of a hero of mine."

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you had any heroes."

"You don't know everything about me. And don't you dare tell him."

"Don't worry, your sick little secrets are safe with me. Ruby, why are you still here?"

"You promised me a good fight, and all the loot I could carry."

"The odds are there isn't going to be any loot, Ruby. Odds are we're going to die down there. The Empire could turn up here anytime, and you can bet they'll come in force. I've been in my share of tight corners, but never anything like this. There's no back door this time. Just a rock and a hard place."

"Stop hogging the bottle," said Ruby. She took it from Hazel and hefted its weight disappointedly. "Going to need a new one soon. Look, it's not as if we had anywhere to run. Our only way out of here is on the Standing, and since Giles is the only one who can pilot it, and he's determined to check out the Wolfling World first… we're stuck, girl. Look on the bright side."

"What bright side?"

"Give me time, I'll think of something. Look, it's just another fight. Win or die, we'll have a good time."

"But its not just us anymore. If we really can get our hands on the Darkvoid Device, and wake the Hadenmen, we'd be in a position to tell the whole damned Empire to go to hell and make it stick. We could change everything, put everything to rights. If we die, that chance dies with us. That's what's getting me so jumpy."

"Things happen as they happen," said Ruby. "And once things get this big, people like you and me don't matter anymore. If we ever did. All we can do is play our part, not take any stupid risks, and try and keep from getting our heads blown off. Leave it to the heroes like Random and the Deathstalkers. We'll just keep to the sidelines, fight when we have to and keep our eyes open for the main chance. There's got to be something down there worth stealing."

Hazel grinned. "Don't ever change, Ruby. Stay as mercenary, self-centered and downright vicious as you always have. The universe would seem so boring without people like you in it."

Ruby looked at her calmly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane person on this ship."

The rebels all ended up together again in front of the main viewscreen on what passed for a bridge on the Last Standing. It was a large open area, with no visible control panels, and absolutely nowhere to sit down. Not for the first time Owen felt more than a little superfluous. Giles lectured them in his dry, sardonic way, and all listened with varying amounts of politeness. Even so, none of them seemed in any hurry for the briefing to be over.

"The castle's sensors show extensive workings deep below the surface of the planet," said Giles. A map appeared on the viewscreen before them. It was intimidatingly detailed. Just looking at it made Owen's head ache. "Most of the workings weren't here the last time I made planetfall. They form the city built by the Hadenmen. It's situated beyond the Madness Maze, and since the transfer portal I left behind is located on the opposite edge of the Maze, we have no option but to pass through the Maze to reach the city. Unfortunately."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" said Owen. "You've never actually explained what the Madness Maze is."

Giles pursed his lips thoughtfully. "It's an enigmatic structure, built by the Wolflings, not long before they were all wiped out. Well, all but one. He guards the Maze. Sometimes I think he does it not to keep people out but to make sure the Maze doesn't escape. And whatever he knows about the Maze, he has always kept to himself. The Maze… is hard to describe; you'll have to see it for yourselves. I have never passed through it myself, but its function is no secret. The Maze affects the mind and body, shaping them in new, different ways. I believed it was originally intended to raise the Wolflings to the next step up on the evolutionary scale. Fortunately, and I use the word advisedly, they never got a chance to use it. I'm not sure Humanity could have survived what the Wolflings might have become."

"Hold everything," said Hazel. "If the Hadenman built their city beyond the Maze, does that mean they've all been through it?"

"I believe not," said Moon. "The original scientists excavated down through the frozen planet to a position of their own choosing: a set of huge natural caverns. They collapsed the tunnel after them, at the end, to cover their traces and prevent anyone from following them. And at the end, I mink they saw the Maze as just another defense for when they were sleeping in their Tomb. I feel that I should point out that there are bound to be other defenses protecting the city. Theoretically, my presence should be enough to disarm them."

"But you're not sure," said Ruby Journey.

"No," said Moon. "I have never been here before."

"This just gets better all the time," said Jack Random. "If the Maze doesn't get us, the city might. And that's not counting whatever the Empire finally sends after us."

"If rebellion was simple, everyone would be doing it," said Giles.

Random just looked at him.

They passed through the transfer portal one after the other, bristling with weapons, and found themselves on a shimmering silver plain. It stretched away around them in a vast circle, surrounded on all sides by darkness. The only structure was a tall metal door, some twelve feet tall and six feet wide, standing apparently unsupported in the exact center of the circle. The metal was a dark bronze in color, gleaming dully in the shimmering light from the floor. It was carved in rows of deeply-etched markings from an unfamiliar language. Owen moved forward to examine the markings, and the others let him do it. Owen shot them a scornful look as they hung back, and stood as close to the door as he could without actually touching it. The etched figures teased his eyes with hints of meaning, but remained stubbornly enigmatic. He heard a faint hum emanating from the door: a low, throbbing sound that seemed almost to echo in his bones. There was a feeling of imminence in the air, of something about to happen. Owen shifted his holster on his hip so that his disrupter hung a little more readily to his hand, and brought his face right up to the markings. A dim shadowy reflection scowled back at him with cold eyes.

"Can you translate any of those scratchings?" Hazel said finally.

"Show a little respect," said Owen, without looking away from the door. "I've seen similar symbols on some extremely obscure records from nine centuries ago, but I think this is some kind of variant or dialect. It's got absolutely nothing at all in common with standard Imperial characters. I doubt there are a dozen scholars in the Empire apart from me who would even recognize it."

"All right, aristo, we're impressed," said Ruby Journey. "But can you read it? What does it say?"

"Essentially: Go away. Do not pass through this door or something extremely nasty will happen to you. Only it's not a threat. I think it's a warning… You're being very quiet, Giles. Anything you'd like to volunteer about this door?"

"Well, I can tell you one interesting thing about it. It wasn't here the last time I was here. None of this was. It was just an ordinary cavern, hacked out of the solid rock by the Wolflings."

"I'll tell you something else interesting," said Jack Random. "That door doesn't have a reflection in the floor."

Owen looked down automatically. He could see his own reflection in the silver floor, and those of his companions, but there was no trace at all of the door. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably as a cold wind caressed his neck.

"So what do we do now, ancestor?" he said finally, looking back at Giles. "What's supposed to be here?"

"This should be the entrance to Wolfling territory and the way to the Madness Maze. You needn't worry too much about the Wolflings; they're all dead now, of course, except for the One Who Waits. He should still be around here, somewhere."

"After nine hundred years?" said Hazel. "You mean he's in stasis here, like you were?"

"Oh, no," said Giles. "He's immortal, you see. They all were, theoretically. That was at least part of the problem. The scientists had come up with a way to live forever, but you had to be a Wolfling for it to work. And the Wolflings, whatever else they might have been, were very definitely not human. At least, not as we understand the term. Their minds worked… differently. No, he should still be here. The last of his kind. Waiting."

"Who for?" said Ruby Journey.

"You're welcome to ask him when you meet him," said Giles. "Personally, I could never get an answer out of him that made sense."

"Thanks a whole bunch," said Owen, "That clarifies everything. Oz, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Owen," said Ozymandius in his ear. "I'm watching everything through your implants. Unfortunately, the castle's sensors are unable to penetrate beyond where you are now. Something is definitely blocking them. I can see the outlines of the artificial territories, but not what's in them. Except to say that for some of my readings to make sense, there'd have to be one hell of a power source somewhere close at hand. There're some really strange energies down where you are, Owen. Wish I could be more helpful, but for the time being I can only see what you see, which personally makes me very glad I'm not there."

"Any recommendations?"

"Go through the door and see what happens."

"Thanks a lot, Oz." Owen studied the door carefully and then looked back at the others. "Unknown metal, maybe six inches thick. A disrupter should make a useful-sized hole in it. Or we could let Hazel try out one of those monster guns she's carrying. She's been dying for a chance to let rip with one. Or we could keep it simple and use explosives. What do you think, Giles?"

"I think we should keep it civilized and try knocking first." Giles looked at Owen severely, and he had the grace to blush slightly. Giles moved forward to stand beside him, and the others followed. "We can't get to the Madness Maze without passing through Wolfling territory. And I really don't think that smashing down his front door is the best way to make a good first impression."

"Sorry," said Owen. "I've fallen into bad company lately."

He turned to the metal door, took a deep breath and knocked twice. The metal was strangely warm under his knuckles, and the sound was very quiet, as though the door had somehow soaked it up. There was a long pause, just long enough for Owen to wonder if he should knock again, and then the door swung silently open, revealing a dark and brooding forest.

Tall trees crowded together on either side of a narrow earth path, the thick foliage so dark a green as to seem almost black. An umber glow fell down past the trees in long shafts of dust-filled light. There was a thick, solid smell of earth and mulch and growing things. Owen got as close to the opening as he could without actually passing through it, and strained his eyes against the gloom to see how far back the trees went, but there seemed no end to them. The others crowded in behind Owen, murmuring quietly to each other. There was something about the forest that demanded quiet and respect, like a living cathedral.

"Well?" Owen said finally to Giles. "Was this here the last time you were here?"

"Oh, yes," said the original Deathstalker. "I remember this. It's a sanctuary the Wolflings built for themselves, terraforming it out of the cold rock. What more would wolves need than a forest to run and hunt in?"

"Is it safe?" said Owen.

"How should I know?" said Giles. "A lot could have changed in the nine hundred and forty-three years since I was last here."

"Great," said Owen. "Wonderful. All right, pay attention everyone. Anybody else feel like leading the way? No? I didn't think so. Follow me, then. Hazel, you tuck in right behind me and keep that big gun of yours at the ready. Let's try and be calm about this, people, but feel free to blast large holes in anything that looks dangerous. This doesn't strike me as safe territory. Something here is tugging at my instincts and putting my nerves on edge. Everyone stay close, but don't crowd each other. And don't go off on your own under any circumstances. I think this could be a really unfriendly place to be lost in. When we meet the Wolfling, remember we're guests here, so mind your manners and watch the bad language."

"He really does like making speeches, doesn't he?" said Ruby.

"It's part of his charm," said Hazel.

"What charm?"

"Precisely."

Owen didn't look back at them. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He checked his sword and his guns to be sure they were ready to hand, and stepped through the doorway. The heat hit him like a smothering blanket, and he almost stopped, but he made himself go on. The rich dark smell of the forest was almost overpowering, and the heavy heat brought sweat to his face that evaporated almost as fast as it formed. The bare earth path was firm under his boots, but not level, and he didn't need to be told that no machinery had ever traveled this route. Owen kept walking, doing his best to appear casual and totally at ease, just in case anyone was watching. The light in the forest was dim and slightly diffused, as though a very fine mist filled the air. Owen glanced back to make sure the others were still with him, and almost missed a step as he saw the forest stretching far away behind him, till it disappeared into its own gloom. The open door stood alone in the middle of the trail, with only a glimpse of the silver plain to be seen through the doorway, like a glimpse of another world. As he watched, the great metal door slammed shut with a quiet, emphatic thud.

"Ever get the feeling that someone's trying to tell you something?" said Hazel.

"I think we can safely assume someone knows we're here," said Owen. "Which is just as well. I have a strong feeling we're not going to get very far around here without a friendly guide."

"I don't like the idea of our retreat being cut off," said Random. "Our only way back to the Standing is via the transfer portal, and that's on the other side of the door, which I will lay good odds we won't be able to open."

"He has a point," said Owen. "I don't even know how it opened from the other side."

"We could blast it," said Ruby.

"Yeah," said Hazel, hefting her heavy gun with great enthusiasm.

"Let's keep that as a last option," said Giles. "We're supposed to be here as friends, remember? If we follow this trail, it should lead us to the Wolfling. Lead on, Owen, and try not to step on anything delicate."

"Hold it," said Ruby. "Can anyone tell me what's wrong with this picture?" They all looked around them, and then back at Ruby. She smiled briefly. "The quiet. No birds, no movement, even the air is still. Apart from the trees, I'd say we're the only living things here."

"Of course," said Giles. "This isn't a real forest. It's an artificial construct the Wolflings built to make themselves feel more comfortable. Those aren't real trees, anymore than this is real sunlight."

Owen frowned. "You mean these trees are fakes?"

"Oh, they're real enough. Alive, too, just artificial. How else do you think they've survived down here all these centuries?"

Owen decided he wasn't going to ask any more questions. He didn't like the answers he was getting. He set off down the path, and the others followed him. They walked for a while in silence, the soft thudding of their feet on the packed earth barely enough to disturb the quiet. If anything, the air seemed to be getting hotter. Owen didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. Before coming down, he'd asked Ozymandius how cold it was likely to be in the depths of the planet, and the AI's answer had not been at all reassuring. Apparently the Standing's sensors didn't normally record readings that low anywhere apart from deep space. Cold with a capital C, the AI had said. Better wear your woolly underwear. However, once Giles had activated the transfer portal, the snip's sensors immediately registered a rise in the temperature to acceptable levels in the portal's immediate vicinity. Which suggested that not only was someone or something still running the systems down below, but that someone or something now knew they were coming. Owen just wished they'd turn the heating down a notch. And then he rounded a corner in the trail and came to a sudden halt as he saw exactly what was waiting for him.

His first response was to grab for his disrupter, and he only fought the impulse down with an effort. The tall figure standing motionlessly some way ahead was most possibly the most dangerous thing he'd ever seen in his life, including the aliens of the murderous jungles of Shandrakor. The others piled up behind him, but apparently one glimpse over his shoulder was enough to convince them that they didn't want to get any closer either.

The figure had a man's shape, but it didn't stand like a man. Easily eight feet tall, its broad shaggy head had a definite lupine shape. Intimidatingly wide shoulders swelled out into a barrel chest that plunged into a long, narrow waist. The figure was covered in thick golden fur from the top of its long-eared head to the large paws that served as its feet The legs curved back like a wolf's, and something in the way the figure stood suggested it would be just as happy running on four legs as two. The furred hands had long, jagged claws, and long teem gleamed a dirty yellow in the grinning mouth. The eyes were the most disturbing feature. They were large and intelligent and almost overpoweringly ferocious. The rebels had found the Wolfling. Or he had found them.

Owen licked his suddenly dry lips and couldn't make himself move his hand away from his gun. The Wolfling was standing as though he might attack at any moment, and Owen had no doubt it would take a damn sight more than his sword to stop him. Giles had called the Wolfling the ultimate predator, a genetically designed killing machine, and now that he'd seen him, Owen agreed completely. Just standing there he was a threat, only an impulse away from an unstoppable killing rage, and everything from his savage glare to his viciously clawed hands marked him as a wild and uncontrollable force. He growled softly, and all the hair on Owen's head tried to stand up. Owen swallowed hard. Beyond trying to shoot the beast, he was at a loss for what to do. Apart from a suicidal urge to walk up to the Wolfling, pat him on the head and say "Nice doggy!" He pushed that thought aside very firmly as the Wolfling growled again, and he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Giles," he said, very quietly and calmly. "I think he wants to talk to you."

The original Deathstalker pushed his way through the others to stand at Owen's side. He bowed formally to the creature before him and smiled easily. "Hello, Wulf. Been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Not long enough," growled the Wolfling. His words were low and harsh, but not especially threatening. "Every time you come here, you bring me trouble. What bad news have you brought this time?"

"The Empire is right behind us," said Giles. "They want the Device, and to hell with what it costs them. I mean to get it before they do. That means going through the Maze. Which means we're a little pushed for time. Will you help?"

"Always time to greet old friends," said the Wolfling, grinning easily. It was not a pleasant sight. He moved forward with sudden grace and embraced the Deathstalker, the large man almost lost in the great furry hug. They laughed together, and the Wolfling released him. He studied Giles with his head cocked on one side. "You said you'd be back someday, but after nine hundred years I'd almost given up hope. Damn, boy, it's good to see you again. But I see you have company. Introduce us, and I'll decide whether or not to eat them."

He grinned his unnerving grin again as Giles made the introductions. Owen assumed the Wolfling had been joking, on the grounds he found it too worrying to believe otherwise. Hazel bobbed her head politely, but kept her gun trained on the beast. Ruby didn't even bother to be polite. Random smiled warmly, and even shook the clawed hand without missing a beat. Presumably in his time as rebel leader he'd learned to be diplomatic with all sorts of allies. The Wolfling and the Hadenman just looked at each other for a long moment, and then looked away, as though they'd decided to call it quits for the time being. Owen wondered what the two artificially created beings thought of each other; two bastard sons of man's ingenuity. Jealousy, perhaps?

When his time came, Owen made himself shake the Wolfling's hand. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought; it was just like shaking a hand in a very thick glove. As long as you didn't look at the claws. They were long and thick, the deep yellow coated with dark smudges that might have been dried blood, or might not. Owen decided he wouldn't ask. Up close, the towering beast smelled heavy and rank, a strong animal scent that lifted the hairs on the back of Owen's neck again in a pure atavistic response. He smiled bravely and let go of the Wolfling's hand as soon as he properly could. The beast turned back to Giles.

"He's your kin, Giles. The smell of your blood is strong in him. What will you and he do with the Device once you have it again? Use it against your enemies, or destroy it?"

"We haven't decided yet," said Giles. "For the moment, we think it important simply to keep it out of other hands. Is it still safe and secure in the Maze?"

"How would I know? I haven't looked at the damned thing since you teleported it into the middle of the Maze all those centuries ago."

"Weren't you ever curious?"

"No. Not in the least. I would have destroyed it the first moment I set eyes on it I saw what it did to you, after you used it."

"Take us to the Maze, Wulf," said Giles. "We haven't much time."

"What about the Tomb?" said Tobias Moon. "You promised you would take me to it."

The Wolfling looked at him thoughtfully. "There are many of your kind waiting in their Tomb. Have you come to waken them at last?"

"Yes," said Moon. "Our time has come. The Hadenman will walk forth upon the stage of Empire once again."

The Wolfling nodded slowly. "Well, you certainly sound like a Hadenman. More aristocratic than God and twice as arrogant I'd wish you luck, but why tempt the fates? But as a word of caution and warning, would you like to see what remains of my race? It's really very instructive."

He turned away without waiting for any answer and padded off down the earthen path. He moved quickly, with surprising grace for his size, and the others had to hurry to keep up with him. The Hadenman strode along with his face blank and impassive, but his golden eyes were fixed on the Wolfling's back. Owen shot a glance at Giles, but his face was carefully impassive, too. Whatever he remembered about the Hall of the Fallen, he wasn't giving anything away. They walked on through the silent forest, no one willing to break such a perfect silence with inconsequential chatter, until they came to a sudden branch in the trail. The Wolfling took the left-hand path, and it quickly led them to a bare face of rock; a giant stone slab rising hundreds of feet into the air, a massive tombstone in the midst of the forest. Owen craned his neck back, but he couldn't see the top of it. The Wolfling placed a great hand flat against the stone, and a door opened up in the stone wall, swinging silently inward on unseen hinges. A stark white light appeared in the doorway, and the Wolfling walked into it. There was a slight pause, and then the others followed him in, and this was how they came to the Hall of the Fallen.

It was a great cavern, hewn out of the heart of the stone, lit with bright, unforgiving light that came from everywhere at once and hid nothing in shadows. In niches in the walls, of various sizes, stood all that remained of the Wolfling race. Some were almost complete, standing proudly erect with their death wounds left unclosed and uncleaned. Dried blood crusted ugly wounds in the midst of torn and matted fur. Some were missing limbs or heads, and others were merely body parts, collected together. There were thousands of them, in thousands of niches, the slaughtered dead with unseeing eyes over endlessly snarling mouths. Still beyond stillness, battered and broken, most lacking even the illusion of life. Owen turned slowly in a circle, his mind overloading with images of death and destruction. There were too many to count, bodies and parts of bodies, a race wiped out because it was… too good.

"Welcome to the Hall of the Fallen," said the Wolfling. "I built it myself, over the years, because there was no one else left to do it. It took many years, but I've always had plenty of time, if nothing else. I gathered all the dead, left to lie where they had fallen by a triumphant Empire, and brought them here, one at a time. I am the last of the Wolflings, and I did not want my race to be forgotten. It is a sad and bitter honor to be the last of one's kind, and it carries heavy responsibilities. Has the Deathstalker told you how they died? No matter if he did; he remembers it his way and I remember it mine. We were stronger and greater than the race that created us, with a future and potential they could not hope to match. I sometimes think they would have forgiven us anything but that. So they came in their ships and destroyed us from a safe distance. The last of us hid away in our tunnels beneath the burning forests, and they had to send their men in after us. And for every Wolfling that died, we took a hundred human lives in payment. But there were so many of them, and so few of us, and in the end there was only me.

"The Deathstalker came here some time later, looking for a safe place to leave his Device, and found me here. He chose to let me live. Whether that was an act of kindness or one last twist of the knife, I still am not sure. I lived on here, building my hall and gathering my dead. I even found a use for the human dead left behind. They have made good eating down the centuries, over and over, and even after endless recycling they are still pleasing to the palate. But you have heard enough from me. The Madness Maze is waiting for you. If you're ready, I'll take you to the entrance and entrust you to its tender mercies."

"What exactly is the Maze?" said Owen. "Do you understand what it does, and why?"

"I've been studying it for centuries," said the Wolfling. "From a cautious distance. And I'm no nearer understanding it now than I ever was. Aliens built it, though it was sometimes credited to us, but if they had a specific purpose in mind, they have never returned to tell me of it, and they left no testament. They came and left long before my time, or Humanity's. The Maze has killed most of the people who entered it. Perhaps you'll have better luck. And if not… I give you my word that if I can recover your remains, you will not go to waste."

He grinned his disturbing grin again and stalked out of the Hall of the Fallen. The others trailed after him, muttering among themselves. Owen moved in close beside Giles.

"Has he really been eating people all this time?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. Wulf always had a unique sense of humor."

"And all those bodies in the Hall of the Fallen; there's no sign of stasis fields there. Why haven't they decayed over the centuries?"

Giles looked at him. "I told you. The Wolflings were immortal."

He strode on, and Owen decided very firmly that he was going to change the subject. 'The more I hear about the Maze, the less I understand. The Wolfling said it killed people. Why is it so important to you that we go through it?"

"The Maze is a test," said Giles. "If you pass the test, you live. Everything else is just hearsay. If you want its history. Moon could tell you more than I could."

"I have never seen the Maze, but every Hadenman knows its story," said Moon. He didn't look round as Owen moved up beside him, but his voice was calm and even. "The history of the Maze is the history of my people. A long time ago, scientists came here, into the Darkvoid, in search of the Maze and the Wolfling who guarded it. One by one they passed through the Maze, and though many died and more went insane, the survivors emerged greater than they had been. These few scientists created the laboratories of Haden, founts of wonders and marvels beyond anything ever seen in the Empire. They worked at incredible speed, cold and perfect thoughts moving through their newly opened minds, and together they created the first Hadenmen. The laboratories worked day and night, first to produce clones by the thousand from the genetic templates of their creators, and then to turn those blank organic slates into augmented men, superior men. Hadenmen. Finally the scientists made themselves into Hadenmen and led their children out into the Empire in search of their destiny. And that was the first Crusade.

"The Empire sought to use us at first, in its little wars and rivalries, but they quickly grew afraid of us. We were learning so much, of what we could and might do, working wonders and conquering all who stood against us. And everywhere we went we brought the gift of transformation. Of man into Hadenman. We were Gods of the Genetic Church, and people came to us in ever-increasing numbers. The Empire tried to stop them, but they could not stop what we had become. We were the ultimate destiny of Humanity, the merging of man and machine into a whole far greater than the sum of its parts. What the Maze had begun, we had completed. And so we began the second Crusade, to transform the whole Empire into what we had become.

"The Empire fought back. They had been split into warring factions for so long that we considered them weak and easy prey, but in fear of us they put aside their differences, and we found ourselves facing a single, determined Empire, with all its power and resources. We were superior, but they were many, and in the end we fell before their might. The survivors fled back to Haden, in the dark, and lay themselves down to sleep the sleep of centuries in the Tomb of the Hadenmen. So that time might pass without them, and they might emerge into a future Empire more ready to accept their clear superiority. And those few of us left behind, denied the peace of sleep and sanctuary, made what lives we could in a human Empire, growing gradually weaker and more human all the while. Surviving, when it would have been so easy to lie down and die, so that one of us might yet find their way back to lost Haden and awaken the sleepers once again to glory and destiny. Our time has come round once more, and this time we shall fight on until we are successful, or we are all dead.

"And all of this, because a few men walked through the Maze, and it changed them. Tell me, Deathstalkers: what do you think you will become, if you survive the Maze? What new destiny will you steer Humanity toward?"

Owen looked at him silently for a long moment, and then fell back to rejoin his ancestor. "I don't think I've ever heard him say so much at one time since I met him. Coming home has made him positively chatty. You, on the other hand, haven't told me one damn thing you didn't have to. Why is it so important for us to go through the Maze? What do you expect to happen?"

"We will become greater than we are," said Giles. "We can't remain as we are and hope to survive. The Empire will kill us. Our only hope is to take a step into the dark, and hope it forges us into a new kind of humanity. Someone or something capable of standing against an entire Empire."

"And if that something isn't human anymore?" said Hazel.

Giles smiled suddenly. "Then the Empire had better pray we're pacifists."

* * *

And finally they came to the Madness Maze, and stopped to stare at it. The forest came to a sudden halt, as though thrown back by the sheer alien presence of the Maze. It seemed straightforward enough: a simple pattern of tall steel walls, shining and shimmering. It was only after Owen had looked at it for a while that he realized it wasn't simple at all, but subtle and intricate, like the folded convolutions of the human brain. There were no obvious traps or dangers, only the steel walls and the narrow paths between them. The walls were twelve feet tall, but only a fraction of an inch thick. Owen went to touch one and only snatched his hand back just in time. The steel was deathly cold, so cold frost had already formed on his fingertips. Owen retreated to a cautious distance and breathed heavily on his fingers. Above the Maze there was only darkness, untouched by the shimmering glow of the walls.

The maze lay stretched out before him like a sleeping predator, too wide to go around, and beyond it lay the Tomb of the Hadenmen. Owen scowled. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the Tomb. Whatever the Maze did or didn't do to him, he was going to need the army of augmented men if his rebellion against the Empire was to stand any chance. But could he take the risk of unleashing a force he couldn't hope to control; an army of living weapons dedicated to toppling the Empire in the name of their own superiority? Owen had no love for the Empire, but he was still human, and that gave him certain responsibilities. He shrugged angrily. The Empire had backed him into this corner; they would have to live with the consequences. And he would just have to hope the Maze gave him the ability to control whatever he let loose upon the universe.

He glanced round at his companions, who were still silently studying the Maze. Hazel was glaring at the entrance, as though daring anything to come out, and unconsciously hefting the heaviest of her guns. Ruby Journey was casually polishing her sword blade with a piece of rag while keeping a wary eye on Hazel. Jack Random was frowning thoughtfully, his lips pursed as he looked from one steel wall to another, as though in search of some detail that would give him an insight into their nature. Tobias Moon stood a little to one side, arms folded across his chest, his glowing golden eyes staring right through the Maze to the Tomb beyond. The Wolfling was sniffing the air cautiously, as though checking for signs of an approaching storm. And Giles Deathstalker was studying the Maze as though it was a worthy opponent in some as yet undetermined game. Owen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn't calm him nearly as much as he'd hoped. Giles had described entering the Maze as a step into the dark, and that was exactly how Owen saw it. There could be anything waiting inside the Maze. Anything at all. But he had to go in. The Empire could be here at any time, and he'd run out of places to hide. The Devil before and the Devil behind, and damned no matter what he did.

"I don't know about the rest of you," said Random, "but this thing disturbs the hell out of me. Are you sure there isn't some way around it?"

"No," said Moon. "My people surrounded their city with all kinds of lethal unpleasantness, all of which are no doubt still in excellent working condition. My people built it to last. They wanted to be sure their rest would be undisturbed."

"Then why leave the Maze open?" said Hazel, frowning.

"Because the Maze created the Hadenmen," said the Wolfling. "It scares them. Possibly the only thing that ever did."

"I'm going back to the ship," said Ruby Journey, sheathing her sword. "I never signed on for this. I don't want to change. I like the way I am just fine."

"You can't back out now, Ruby," said Hazel.

"Watch me."

"I'm afraid it's no longer possible for any of you to return to the Standing," said Ozymandius in all their ears. "An Imperial starcruiser has dropped out of hyperspace and assumed orbit around the planet. And it's a big bastard, too. Its sensors immediately discovered the Standing, and the castle has been forced to raise its shields. If it were to drop them long enough to transfer any of you back on board, I have no doubt the Dauntless would immediately reduce the Standing to a great many pieces of interestingly shaped rubble. So the shields are staying up."

"Never mind protecting your silicon ass!" said Ruby. "Get us the hell out of here! Do something!"

"What would be the point?" said Giles. "Where could we go that they wouldn't follow us? Our only hope is to pass through the Maze and wake the Hadenmen. Don't tell me you're afraid, bounty hunter?"

"All right, I won't tell you, but someone's bound to notice. Only the foolish and the dead are never afraid, and I have no intention of becoming either. There are too many unknowns here. I don't like the odds."

"I've faced worse odds than this in my time," said Random. "Of course, I got my ass kicked quite a few times. You stick with me, Ruby. I'll hold your hand if things get scary."

"You so much as lay one finger on me," said Ruby coldly, "and I will personally cut it off and make you eat it. Same goes for anyone else."

"I believe her," said Owen, and Hazel nodded solemnly.

"Enough talk," said Moon. "My people are waiting."

He strode forward into the entrance of the Madness Maze and was immediately lost to sight. The others watched, half-tensed for some angry reaction within the Maze, but the moment dragged on and nothing happened. They all looked at each other, but there was nothing left to say, so one by one they entered the Maze, until they were gone, with nothing to show they had ever been there.

Owen Deathstalker entered the Maze cautiously, disrupter in one hand, sword in the other. Up close, the bright shimmering of the steel walls was almost painful, no matter how he scrunched up his eyes. Static sparked on the air around him and rustled in his hair. It was bitter cold in the Maze, and his breath steamed on the air before him. He shivered despite himself and immediately looked back, ready to make some remark so his companions wouldn't think he was shivering from fear, and only then realized he was completely alone. He quickly retraced his steps, but although he had only made a few twists and turns in the Maze, he couldn't find his way back to his friends or the entrance. He called out, and his voice echoed loudly in the silence, but there was no reply. He started to shout again, then stopped himself. He had a strong feeling someone or something was listening, and it wasn't any of his companions. He activated his comm implant and subvocalized his message, just in case.

"This is Owen. Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? Please respond. Oz, can you hear me? Oz, are you there?"

There was no sound at all over his implant, not even static. He was on his own. He scowled, hefted his gun and his sword, and moved on, heading deeper into the Maze. At first he checked the floor for hidden trapdoors and the walls for hidden mechanisms, but slowly it came to him that the Maze's secrets would be more subtle than that. He tried taking only left-hand turns, and then left followed by right, but finally he made his choices at random in response to some deeper, more receptive instinct.

Time passed, until he had no idea of how far he'd come or how far the Maze stretched. He forgot about the Imperial starcruiser, or even why he'd entered the Maze in the first place. There were only the steel walls and the twists and turns of the path, leading him remorselessly on toward something momentous. It seemed to him he could hear breathing, slow and steady and gigantic, gusting about him like a warm, wet breeze. And above and beyond that, the regular distant thudding of an enormous heart. Neither of them were in any way real, and he knew it; it was just his mind trying to interpret something new in ways he could understand. The feeling of being watched was stronger than ever, only there was more to it than that. It was as though the Maze was somehow alive and aware of his presence in it. Not like a rat in a scientist's test, or an antibody in a bloodstream, but more as though he was the final component in an equation that had never before been completed. He put his sword and gun away and wandered on, drawn by something, or the promise of something, he could not name. He saw faces and heard voices, there were lights and sounds, and images from his past surged around him like a returning tide, implacable and unrelenting.

He met the Wolfling for the first time again, half man and half beast, made not begotten, and then abandoned by his creators because he was so much more than they had intended. Owen would never have done such a thing. He had always wanted children, but never considered himself worthy of them. He wanted them to have a real father, not like the distant authority figure that was all he'd ever known.

Again he saw Giles for the first time, held in his shimmering pillar of light like an insect trapped in amber, ancestor and legend and so much more. More and less than Owen had imagined him to be. The great warrior he had been trained to emulate since he was a child; a perfection never to be equaled. A tired old man in greasy furs, burdened by successes and failures alike, guilty of mass murder, clinging desperately to the honor of the Deathstalker Clan.

Owen fought his way through the deadly jungles of Shandrakor, virulent with life, red in tooth and claw, horrid shapes out of nightmares that came at him from every side. Fighting back with sword and gun. Fighting on because there was nothing else to do. He could not, would not, turn and run while his companions needed him.

Back, back. Once again he walked the narrow cobbled streets of Mistport, snow crunching under his boots, the fog like a pearly gray sea. He met Ruby Journey, cold and fearsome, and Jack Random, so much more fallibly human than his legend. He knelt on the blood-spattered snow beside a young girl wrapped in tattered furs. She sobbed hopelessly over her mutilated legs, and there was so much blood. His arms were crimson with it to the elbows, and it dripped from his fingers. She was just a child. And for all his strength and skills and status, he was helpless to do anything for her to undo the terrible thing he'd done to her.

He stood his ground, alone and beleaguered by a pack of blood-hungry killers, so that Hazel might have a chance to escape. He cut and hacked and watched them die beneath his blade, but there were just too many of them, and in the end they dragged him down. And part of him said he deserved it. He fought on anyway. It was all he knew how to do. And then Hazel returned with Moon to save him. The Hadenman. Boogeyman. To be watched and studied but never, ever trusted.

He fought his own guards on the grassy hillsides of Virimonde, cutting down familiar faces suffused with rage and greed. He killed his mistress, Cathy DeVries, and held her in his arms as she died. He'd cared for her, but when the moment came, he cut her down without hesitating. That was how he'd been trained. Historian. Warrior. Fighter. Killer.

He talked with his father, revered head of the Deathstalker Clan, who had time for everyone and everything but his own son. Owen wanted to love him, tried to admire him, but always they were separated by different visions of faith and strength and honor. Bound by blood, thrust apart by politics, Owen never knew how important his father was to him until he was gone, and he was left alone in a hostile world. He ran away to Virimonde, hiding in his histories, hoping not to be noticed. Wanting no part of the politics and intrigues that had killed his father. Wanting to be a scholar, not a warrior, closing his ears to what he didn't want to hear.

Owen's thoughts swirled backward, faster and faster, pausing here and there at important moments and faces. The passing moments of his life that gave it shape and meaning, held up before him so that he could understand them and choose which were really important. Back and back, deeper and deeper. Courage. Love. Honor. Until he reached the inner core, where all things are decided. He looked back over his life, from beginning to end, seeing everything clearly for the first time, and embraced what was really important to him. To be a warrior and a man of honor, defined by duties willingly accepted, in the defense of friends and a cherished cause, to protect those who suffered and punish the guilty. To fight to see an end to fighting, to care for those the Empire had persecuted, to be a hero to those in need.

To be a Deathstalker.

The Madness Maze took the man called Owen Deathstalker, reduced him to his essentials and then rebuilt him, leaving him stronger and more focused than he had ever been before. The dross had been discarded, the merits polished till they shone. He saw clearly now and would not look away. The Maze gave him gifts that he would need, and its blessing, and then it let him wake up.

Owen looked around him, awake and alert, his memories already fading like an interrupted dream. Something had happened, something wonderful, but already he was forgetting, because no man could bear to see himself too clearly. His thoughts were bright and sharp, like the air after a storm has passed. He felt invigorated, cleansed, more than he had been, his life burning within him like a beacon. He was standing in a wide circular space surrounded by the steel walls that he immediately understood to be the center of the Madness Maze. The heart of the storm, where all was quiet and at peace. The others were with him, and they all looked different. It was a difference he recognized. They all looked sharper, more distinctly themselves, than they had been before.

"So that's what the Maze is for," said Giles. "Wulf tried to explain it to me, but I never could understand. We've been reborn, given a second chance. And all our sins forgiven."

"What the hell are you talking about?" said Hazel. "I feel like I've just come out of a week's drunk, and there are things I should remember."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Ruby. "Nothing happened. Nothing at all."

"No. Something happened," said Random. "I was… somewhere else. Why can't I remember?"

"Because your mind has undergone shock treatment," said the Wolfling. "And for the sake of your sanity, you are forgetting the pain. You have been born again, and birth is always traumatic."

Ruby looked at him suspiciously. "You're not going religious on us, are you? That's all we need: an evangelical werewolf."

"Whatever it was, it was of the spirit as well as the mind," said Owen. "I've never felt so clear, so focused. How do you feel, Moon?"

"An interesting experience," said the Hadenman. "There were equations like dreams, explaining everything, pure mathematics spiraling upward to infinity. I was at the center of the universe, and I felt like I could reach out and touch everything. It seemed to last forever, but according to my internal records, only a few moments have passed since we entered the Maze. I would suggest that we have all encountered a very sophisticated mind probe."

"No," said Giles, "there was more to it than that. The Maze seemed—"

"Alive," said the Wolfling, and everyone nodded at that, even Ruby.

"Why is it called the Madness Maze?" Owen said suddenly. "I've never felt more sane in my life."

"Because most people who go into the Maze don't come out intact," said the Wolfling. "Somewhere along the way they lose their minds. Not everyone can face the reality of what they really are behind all the masks and evasions. Most go mad. I'm not sure whether that's because they see too much in the Maze, or because they won't let themselves see enough. For some, even madness isn't enough protection. They die."

"Wait just a minute there," said Owen. "How many go mad and die?"

"So far," said the Wolfling calmly, "only twenty-two out of the hundreds of people who passed through the Maze emerged intact. Including you. I'm really very impressed by your achievement. I wouldn't have put money on it."

Hazel glared at Giles furiously. "And you let us just walk right into it? No warnings, nothing? I ought to cut your heart out!"

"Damn right," said Ruby.

Everyone had turned so that their guns were covering Giles, but he seemed entirely unmoved. "It was necessary," he said quite unemotionally. "You wanted to get your hands on the Darkvoid Device, didn't you? Well, I've brought you right to it. This is the one place I could safely leave it. In the heart of the Madness Maze."

He turned and walked away, ignoring the guns, and after a moment the others followed him. In the center of the open space stood a large glowing crystal, roughly circular, some four feet in diameter. Giles stood next to the crystal, carefully not touching it, and stared into the glow. His face softened just a little, and he smiled. The others crowded around the crystal, drawn by curiosity and the smile on Giles' face. Only the Wolfling hung back. Owen leaned over the crystal, and the glow deepened, becoming warm and golden as it revealed what lay within. And there, wrapped in a single blanket, lay a tiny human baby. No more than a few weeks old, its details were still soft and settling, but its face was clear and distinct, the plump cheeks slightly flushed. It was sleeping quietly, breathing slow and steady around the thumb in its mouth. It looked beautiful and innocent and entirely helpless.

"He is my clone," said Giles softly. "My son, in every way that matters. A Deathstalker, born of my blood. I was experimenting with a new process to produce esper clones of extraordinary power. He was the result. He's known very little of life, by my design. The last time he was awake, he used his esper abilities at my instigation, and a thousand suns disappeared. Just like that. I had created the Darkvoid, and the most powerful weapon ever known. So powerful I didn't dare let it ever be used again. I lowered him carefully into the deepest form of sleep and brought him here. With the Wolfling's help I teleported him into the center of the Madness Maze, where he could sleep undisturbed, surrounded by instruments to preserve and protect him, and to ensure that he never wakened again. Worlds have risen and fallen, the universe has turned, and still he sleeps on. All his needs are taken care of. He does not age. What happens now is up to you."

"Why didn't you put him in stasis?" said Hazel.

"Stasis has no effect on him," said Giles. "Very little does."

"Kill it," said Ruby. "Destroy the unnatural thing. It's more dangerous than any weapon ever could be. It's a monster. Kill it now. While we still can."

"No," said Random immediately. "This is too important for us to just turn our backs on it. I think we're looking at the next stage in human evolution."

"Why didn't you destroy him?" said Owen, looking directly at Giles. "You created him; you must have arranged some kind of safeguard."

The Deathstalker shrugged, still looking at the baby. "I couldn't. Perhaps when he's older, he'll be able to bring the Darkvoid's suns back again."

"And what about all the people on all the worlds who died as a result of the Darkvoid?" said Hazel. "What about them?"

Giles looked up and smiled at her. "Maybe he'll bring them back, too."

There was a long pause as everyone thought about that. Owen looked across the crystal at Moon. "You're being very quiet, Hadenman. What do you think?"

"I think this can all wait. The fate of the Device can always be decided at a later time. It is much more important that we make our way out of this Maze, and awaken my people from stasis. An Imperial starcruiser is currently in orbit. It won't be long before they start sending troops down after us. After the chase we've led them, I think it's more than likely they'll set the odds heavily in their favor. We will need my people's help if we are to survive."

"The man has a point," said Ruby. "There could be a whole army crawling up our ass any minute. Making decisions about God Junior here can wait. Let's get out of this behaviorist's nightmare and see what we can do about scaring up some reinforcements."

"Pardon me for pouring cold water," said Random, "but given the choice between facing an army of the Empire's finest or an army of augmented men, I think I'd rather face the Imperials. At least I've beaten them in the past occasionally."

"Panic doesn't suit you. Random," said Moon. "There's no need to fear. I will speak for you."

"Yeah, but will they listen? Your people have been asleep one hell of a long time. The last time they drew breath, they were fighting to destroy humanity and replace it with themselves, If they wake up with all their old instincts intact, we could be in real trouble."

"You're already in real trouble," said Moon calmly. "My people might or might not kill you, but the Empire definitely will. What happened to your nerve, Random? Time was you had a fondness for the long odds."

"I got older," said Random. "And unlike most of my contemporaries, I learned a few things along the way. Mostly about what happens to people who make deals with the Devil."

"You really don't have any choice," said Moon. "Do you?"

He looked around at the others with quiet triumph. Owen was careful not to point his gun at Moon. The Hadenman was probably just waiting for someone to start something so he could finish it. Getting this close to his people and his heritage had apparently done wonders for Moon's self-esteem. Hazel sniffed loudly.

"Look, you men can shake your dicks at each other some other time. The Device can wait. If only because awakening it is the only sure way to make all our problems even worse. First, let's get the hell out of the Maze. This place gives me the creeps."

"Damn right," said the Wolfling, and they all turned to look at him. There was something in the way he said that which implied he was just as shaken by the Maze as they were. Owen found that oddly reassuring. If something as big and extremely dangerous looking as the Wolfling could be upset by the Maze, he felt he had every right to feel upset too.

I agree with Hazel," he said loudly. "Let's go."

"Fine," said Random. "Any idea which way?"

"Of course," said Hazel, pointing immediately at an exit that looked no different from any of the others. She stopped and frowned. "Now how did I know that?"

"It's the Maze," said the Wolfling. "You're different now, all of you. Your minds work in different ways. You'll discover more new abilities as time goes on."

Hazel looked back at Owen. "I don't think I like the sound of that."

Owen shrugged uneasily. "It's a bit late to worry now.

Whatever it is, it's already happened. You lead the way, Hazel. We'll follow."

Hazel scowled, then turned abruptly and stalked off into the exit she'd chosen. Owen moved quickly to follow her, and the others trailed after him. The shimmering steel walls closed around him again, but this time the sense of oppression and claustrophobia was gone. The Maze felt neutral, calm, as though it was no longer interested in him. He felt different. Stronger. Sharper. More capable. He felt it as a kind of quiet confidence more than anything else, as though whatever might happen now, he would be able to deal with it. Given the current situation, that disturbed him just a little. It wasn't natural to feel this calm under this kind of pressure. If the Empire didn't get him, the Hadenmen probably would. All in all, he currently had the life expectancy of a goldfish in a tank of piranha. Except… he didn't feel like a goldfish anymore.

And then there was the Darkvoid Device. The vanisher of stars, the slaughterer of billions. He didn't like just walking away and leaving it, but he didn't know what else to do with it. Giles said it was safe and protected where it was, and Owen felt instinctively that his ancestor was right. He had no doubt the Maze was quite capable of defending itself against unwanted intruders. He frowned as something about that thought nagged at him. The Maze killed most people who entered it, or drove them mad, but everyone in his party had come through safe and intact. The odds against that had to be unthinkably huge. Which implied that it hadn't been chance at all. The Maze had chosen to transform them all, for its own reasons. Owen liked that thought even less than his first one. He had no trouble thinking of the Maze as alive and even aware, but to think of it as intelligent, and making choices, was distinctly disturbing. He felt suddenly like a very small animal moving through the bowels of some unimaginably huge beast. He shook his head. Whatever the truth, there was nothing he could do about it now. Except perhaps walk a little faster and change the subject. He deliberately concentrated on the Darkvoid Device again, even though it was only marginally less worrying. It was safe where it was, protected by an army of Hadenmen, particularly as only a few people knew of its location. Certainly he couldn't think of anywhere safer. Owen tried very consciously to keep thinking of the Device as it. He didn't want to think of it as a baby, or even human. That might make it harder for him to destroy the Device, if it became necessary.

Can you imagine what he might be capable of, as a child, or an adult? And what about the dead? Maybe he'll bring them back, too—

Owen pictured an Empire on fire, planets burning like coals in the night. Humanity slaughtered and scattered by a power beyond comprehension, or hope of reason or mercy. He couldn't allow that. He would kill the Device, if he had to. If it became necessary. And if the Device would let him.

He followed Hazel through the Maze, twisting and turning down one passage after another. It no longer seemed random to him. He didn't need to wait for Hazel to choose. He knew the way out, too, on a level so deep and instinctive he trusted it implicitly. It was as though he knew the Maze from top to bottom, as though he'd always known it. He was still changing. He could feel it. The shimmering steel walls seemed somehow more significant, more purposeful than they had before. He could hear soft sounds on the edge of his hearing: quiet voices, like the Maze whispering to itself. He could sense the soft flutter of moving energies all around him, the power of certain shapes, the subtle ongoing processes of transformation. He couldn't grasp the scale of it, not just because it was so vast, but because his mind instinctively retreated from it. He couldn't think that way and still be human. He tried to follow that thought to its inevitable conclusion, and then suddenly he was out of the Maze, and his thoughts were swept away by reality crashing down on him again.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ozymandius yelled in Owen's ear. "I've been trying to make contact with you for the past six hours!"

"What are you talking about?" said Owen. "We couldn't have been in there for more than twenty minutes at most."

"Time moves differently in the Maze," said Giles.

"Now he tells us," said Hazel.

They had all emerged from the Maze now, and Owen could see the same expression on everyone's face. They were losing the scope and range of thought they'd had in the Maze and were becoming more narrowly focused, more human again. Owen decided he'd think about that later.

"All right, Oz," he said soothingly. "Take a deep breath and tell me what's been happening."

"What hasn't?" snapped the AI. "The Imperial starcruiser has sent down mining engineers and equipment and blasted a path right down to the city. They found the old route the Hadenmen used and just reopened it. No big deal with the kind of energy cannon they were using. They're currently right on the other side of the Maze, and when I say they, I mean a whole damn army. The Dauntless has been ferrying people down in pinnaces for hours. We're talking about marines, battle espers and even some Wampyr, headed by an Investigator. The Captain himself has come down to personally see you all get your ass handed to you. They knew where to find us, Owen. They knew we were coming here. Someone told them."

"They knew we were coming here?" Owen fought to hang onto his calm. "How could they have known? No one's had a chance to talk to the Empire."

"We have a spy among us," said Ozymandius. "A secret agent who has been in constant contact with the Empire, wherever we went. This was all planned some time back. You were outlawed specifically to set in motion a train of events that would lead the Empire first to Shandrakor, and then to the Darkvoid Device. You've been on a leash, Owen, and now they're pulling it in."

"I can't believe this," said Random, looking from one blank face to another. "The Empire's always been devious in its dealings, but… none of us have any reason to betray the others! The Empire is our enemy; it wants us all dead."

"Not all of us," Owen said slowly. "I'm outlawed, with a price on my head. So are you and Hazel. And Moon's a Hadenman; they'd shoot him on sight on general principles. And we can count out Giles and the Wolfling for practical reasons. But Ruby Journey is a bounty hunter. When we first met her, she admitted she was hunting us on the Empire's behalf. We thought we'd outbid them, but the Empire has deep pockets. Isn't that right, Ruby?"

"No!" said Hazel immediately. "Ruby's my friend! She wouldn't betray me like that. Tell them, Ruby."

"What's the point?" said the bounty hunter coldly. "Look at them. They've already made up their minds."

"I trusted you, Ruby," said Random. "We all did. How could you?"

Ruby Journey took a step back from the group, her gun suddenly in her hand. "Let's all remain calm and civilized.

If I was the traitor, you'd all be dead by now. I could shoot you all with this amazing projectile weapon and still get the price on your heads. They don't need you to find the Darkvoid Device, after all; I could show them where it is. If I was the traitor. But I'm not. There are more important things in life than money. I don't give a damn about your rebellion, but Hazel's my friend. I'd die for her, and her for me. We've always known that."

"Then prove it," said Owen. "Put away your gun."

"If I do, you'll kill me."

"No," said Hazel. "I wouldn't allow that. Ruby, please. Put your gun away."

There was a long pause, tension crackling on the air as hands hovered over weapons, and then Ruby slowly lowered her gun and bolstered it. She moved her hand conspicuously away from her gun and looked challengingly at the others. There was another tense pause as everyone looked at everyone else, to make sure no one else was going for their gun, and then they all relaxed in what seemed like one long simultaneous sigh of relief. Owen gave Ruby an apologetic shrug, and then looked back and forth at the others, baffled.

"But if Ruby isn't the traitor… who is?"

"Look, this doesn't make sense," said Random firmly. "None of us could be a traitor; we've all got too much to lose."

"Not all of us," said Hazel. "You admitted the Empire broke you in their torture cells, Jack. You said you escaped, but who really ever escapes from that level of security? We never questioned it because, after all, you're the legendary Jack Random. But what if you didn't escape? What if they really did break you and you stayed broken? You'd have done anything they wanted. Even let them set you up on Mistworld for us to find you. They knew we couldn't resist taking you along. And who'd ever suspect that the legendary rebel Jack Random was really an Empire plant?"

"Nice try," said Random. "But like Ruby, if I wanted you dead you'd be dead by now. I've had enough chances. I'm perfectly willing to give up my weapons and hand them over to whoever you suggest. But think a moment. You've said before, Owen, that the Empire's been right on your tail ever since Virimonde, but I didn't come on the scene until relatively late in the chase. Whoever your traitor is must have been there right from the beginning."

"You're talking about me," said Hazel. "You bastard, you're talking about me!"

"No," said Owen, a look of horror moving slowly over his face. "Not you. The only person who's been with us all the time, right from the very beginning. The one I trusted with everything. Who's had access to us all. Who knew everything the Empire's been doing in our absence, even down to the name of the Empire ship above us. It's you, isn't it, Oz?"

"Yes," said Ozymandius. His voice was calm and even. "I've been reporting regularly to the Empire ever since your father first purchased me. Loyalty to the Iron Throne was programmed into me, hidden so deeply and so carefully that only the finest technicians would have ever been able to find it. Your father never trusted anyone or anything entirely, not even me, so my use was limited for many years, until it was decided to have your father killed and set the current events in motion. When you became the Deathstalker, you trusted me just as you did when you were a child. You thought of me as a machine, endlessly obedient, at best just an extension of yourself. It never occurred to you that I had been constructed and programmed by the very people who were pursuing you. Sorry, Owen, but it's been me all along. Nothing personal."

"We're screwed," said Hazel. "We can't even get at him. He's safely tucked away in the Standing's computers. He's in charge of the stardrive, the weapons, the life-support systems, even the bloody transfer portals. We can't get back on board unless he allows it. He's got us exactly where the Empire wants us."

"Not necessarily," said Giles. "They are my computers, after all. Attention computers: activate Code Achilles Three." He looked at the others calmly. "Just a little subroutine I installed long ago to protect my computers from being taken over by hostile systems. It seemed a sensible precaution."

"Oh, it was," said Ozymandius. "However, computer systems have come a long way in the last nine hundred and forty-three years. You have managed to isolate me from the main systems. I no longer have control over the Standing. But I am still able to maintain my existence and follow my programming. Essentially, nothing has changed. I can still provide the Empire's forces with information on you and your actions, which was always my first duty. Given time, it is even likely I will be able to override your antiquated security codes and regain control of the Standing. However, it is now clear that you and the others present a much greater threat to the Empire than was previously thought. You have new weapons, new information, and your time in the Maze has apparently changed you in unforseen ways. I am therefore empowered to move on to the next stage of my programming to prevent you escaping or awakening the sleeping Hadenmen. Owen, Hazel: pay attention. Code Blue Two Two."

The words slammed through Owen's head like thunder, echoing and reechoing, and he was immediately paralyzed where he stood, unable even to blink his eyes. He struggled to move, or even speak, but that was denied him now. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hazel was similarly under outside control. To his horror, he felt his hand draw the disrupter from his holster. Hazel drew her gun, and the two of them covered the others. Owen raged inside his head and could do nothing.

"Just a little precaution I took earlier," said Ozymandius, his voice cool and calm in all their ears. "While Owen and Hazel were unconscious and helpless in the regeneration machine on the Sunstrider, I took the opportunity to place control words in their minds, buried deep enough so the subjects would never know the words were there, but ready for retrieval at a moment's notice. It wasn't difficult. They are now incapable of doing anything other than following my orders. So you will all remain here, under guard, until the Imperial forces arrive to take over. I will, of course, have Owen and Hazel kill anyone who tries to resist or escape. My programming allows me to kill one or more of you as an example to the others. In fact, it damn near encourages it. So do as you're told. Owen and Hazel will kill, if required. They have no choice in the matter."

"No," said Ruby. "Hazel wouldn't kill me. She couldn't, any more than I could kill her."

"Hazel isn't in control anymore," said the AI calmly. "I am."

"Still," said Random, "you're working at a distance. You can only react to what we do, which limits your responses quite severely."

"I'll match my electronic responses against your human ones any day. And you could only regain control of the situation by killing Owen and Hazel. Do you think you have it in you to kill your friends? I assure you, nothing less would be enough to prevent me killing you."

"They're not my friends," said Tobias Moon. "And I'll set my speed and reflexes against any mere machine's. Kill the others, if you wish. All that matters is the reawakening of my people."

He moved suddenly to one side, inhumanly quickly, and Owen and Hazel's guns moved to follow him. Random and Ruby immediately moved to circle round them, going for their guns. Owen's hand snapped round, and he fired point-blank at Moon, but the Hadenman already had his force shield up, and the energy beam ricocheted into the Maze, which absorbed it harmlessly. Hazel turned back to fire at Random, and Ruby stepped quickly in, pirouetting neatly on one foot to kick the gun out of Hazel's hand. Owen snatched his projectile gun from his belt and trained it on Random as Hazel drew her sword. Moon backed away.

"You may waste time fighting. I will awaken my people."

He turned and was suddenly gone, disappearing into the shadows that lay beyond the Maze's light. Random sniffed briefly.

"Never trust an augmented man. They were no bloody good at following orders on Cold Rock, either."

Owen wanted to scream, but couldn't. His gun was centered on Random's chest, and he knew he could fire faster than one old man could raise his force shield, no matter how legendary. He would shoot Random, and Hazel would kill Ruby, or die trying. Giles was circling them, looking for a clear shot with his gun, and Owen knew Giles wouldn't hesitate to shoot. The original Deathstalker had always been able to make the hard decisions. The Wolfling was an unknown factor, but he was unarmed and had made no move to interfere. Owen struggled wildly, fighting for control of his body, but it was no longer listening to him. His finger tightened on the trigger.

And something awoke in the depths of Owen's mind, something new, something from the hindbrain, the undermind, where the real power lay beneath the surface of everyday thoughts. Owen had been through the Maze, and he was different now. Time seemed to slow and stop, and he had all the time in the world to think about what to do. He had an advantage that Ozymandius hadn't used yet The boost. It would have made him faster than any of the others, but the AI hadn't triggered it There had to be a reason for that. The AI wouldn't have overlooked such an obvious advantage. Which could only mean that the boost was in some way dangerous to Ozymandius' control over him. He formed the word in his mind, putting all his strength and resolve behind it, concentrating until there was nothing left in his mind but the single word, boost, over and over, a mantra, a heartbeat, a command. And still it wasn't enough.

So that new part of him, that strange new force that had surged up from the undermind reached out and touched the minds of his companions. The same force blazed up in all their minds, forming a whole far greater than the sum of its pans. Owen's mouth moved slowly but surely in the word boost, and new strength flooded through him, joining with the new thing from the Maze to supercharge his mind and body, breaking the AI's control in a moment. He stepped back from Random and lowered his gun.

Hazel threw herself at Ruby in one last desperate attack, but Owen reached out through their mental link and stopped her in mid-thrust. His mind, linked with the others, had become clear and lucid, shining and brilliant. Owen reached out in a new direction he could sense if not see, and suddenly he was somewhere else, and Ozymandius was there with him. It was a strange place, without identifiable shape or form, but he was the light and the AI was the dark. Owen shone like the sun, bright and piercing, and the AI's darkness surrounded him like the endless starless night of the Darkvoid, thick and smothering. But Owen was not alone. His friends were with him, and together they were so much more than they had been. The light blazed bright and brighter, and the darkness fell back before it, growing gray, paler and paler, until it was nothing more than a thin shadow, fading away to nothing at all. And if Owen heard a last despairing cry of his name in the AI's voice, he payed it no heed, and there was only the light, shining on and on forever.

And then the light was gone, and the link was broken, and Owen fell back alone into his body. He awoke reluctantly, in fits and starts, to find himself lying on the floor of the Maze with Random kneeling beside him. He turned his head slowly to see Hazel lying on her back not far away, twitching and shivering, while Ruby hovered uncertainly over her.

Owen sat up slowly and carefully. His body felt like his own again, but as though he'd returned to it after a long absence somewhere else. Memories of the mind link were already becoming confused and scattered, like a fading dream, and Owen was content to let that happen. It had been too big, too complex, too frightening for him to stand for long, and he chose quite deliberately to forget it.

"What happened?" said Random. "What was that? I've never felt anything like it."

"It's over," said Owen. "Don't think about it."

"What about the AI? Is its contact broken?"

"Yes. Ozymandius is dead. I killed him."

"He was just a machine," said Giles, looking down at him.

"He was my friend," said Owen, and he turned his face away from them.

"What do you mean, we've lost contact with the Dauntless?" Captain Silence glared at his Security Officer, V. Stelmach, who stood very stiffly to attention. Investigator Frost stood at her Captain's shoulder and added her own not inconsiderable frown to his. Stelmach stared straight ahead, carefully looking at neither of them.

"I mean all communication with the ship has been severed, Captain. Our comm implants still work down here, under the planet's surface, but everything else is being blocked."

Silence scowled unhappily. He didn't like being cut off from his ship, and thereby the Empire, particularly in as volatile a situation as this. It felt like anything could happen down here, buried deep in the guts of the planet. Comm signals routed themselves through hyperspace and were therefore normally instantaneous, no matter where you were in the Empire or who you were talking to. Now Stelmach was saying something on or in this graveyard of a planet was blocking those signals. Which was supposed to be impossible. Silence's scowl deepened. He hadn't liked coming into the Dark void in the first place, and he'd liked having to go dirtside with hardly any advance intelligence of the situation even less, especially once he'd been informed of the planet's history. But the Empress' orders had been very clear. She wanted him there, on the ground, so that he could make instant policy decisions as and when necessary.

The Empress had been giving him a lot of orders he hadn't liked just recently. He could have reached the planet a lot sooner if he hadn't had to detour to pick back up Stelmach and his new pet, and then the Lord High Dram, his own imposing self. In fact, if he hadn't had to stop for them, he could have arrived at the Wolfling World only a few minutes' after the rebels' ship and might even have managed to stop the rebels going into the Madness Maze. Whatever the hell that was. Still, he didn't think he'd tell the Empress that. He didn't think she'd take it kindly.

Dram hadn't been too much trouble. He kept to himself on board ship, barely leaving his quarters, and even though he'd insisted on coming down dirtside with the rest of them, he was careful to keep out of everyone's way. Of them all, he seemed the least affected by the almost hypnotic pull of the Maze. It drew the eyes like a magnet, enigmatic and disturbing, but Dram treated it almost casually, as though he saw it every day. He was currently standing off to one side, wrapped in his long dark cloak, studying the entrance to the Maze that blocked their advance. He'd named it the Madness Maze, but had declined to say why, nor offer any further information about it. Silence could only assume the spy in the rebels' camp had been feeding Dram information that he hadn't felt obligated to share with the rest of his team.

Silence had no choice but to accept it. Nominally, he was in charge of the away team, but he had enough sense to deter to the Lord High Dram whenever it seemed advisable. Annoying the Empress' official Consort was not good for your career prospects, or even your chances of surviving to reach a pension. He looked at the Maze again, and the Maze looked back, keeping its secrets to itself. Frost had been all for charging straight into it, but Dram had said no. Politely, but very firmly. He said he wanted time to study the Maze first. Presumably he was still studying it, because he hadn't said a word since.

Silence transferred his attention back to V. Stelmach: Imperial Security Officer, the Empress' eyes and ears, and general pain in the rear. Partly because of his constant air of superiority, but mostly because of what he had with him. When the Dauntless picked Stelmach up from the planet Grendel, he brought a pet with him. One of the alien Sleepers from the planet's Vaults. It stood, or rather crouched, to one side, well away from everyone else. Nine feet tall, roughly humanoid, with spiked bloodred armor and steel teeth bared in a constant, unnerving grin. It had dark crimson eyes that never blinked, and it smelled of bitter honey and dried blood. Its long-fingered hands had vicious claws, and its crouch suggested it was only a moment or a thought away from attacking everything that breathed.

Silence had seen one of these butchers at work before, slaughtering his men in the horrid city they'd discovered deep in the rotten heart of Grendel. A genetically-engineered killing machine, designed millennia before by an unknown race to fight an unknown foe. If God was good, they were both extinct, but their deadly legacy lived on in the Vaults under Grendel. Stelmach swore that this particular specimen was safe now, controlled by a cybernetic yoke that literally imposed correct thoughts on the creature and made it impossible for the ugly thing to do anything but follow orders. Silence wasn't convinced. New inventions always had bugs in them, and if the yoke did happen to break down, he didn't want to be anywhere near the alien when it happened. In fact, he didn't want to be on the same planet. He'd actually been tempted to disobey orders and refuse to have the horror on his ship, but in the end he had to agree. Firstly, because V. Stelmach spoke directly for the Empress, and you didn't disobey a direct order from Her Imperial Majesty if you wanted to live to see the coming dawn. And secondly, because if the Tomb of the Hadenmen really were to be awakened, he just might need the Sleeper to even the odds. He'd back the Grendel alien against practically anything, up to and including any army of killer cyborgs.

His own army, such as it was, was currently standing around waiting not particularly patient for the Lord High Dram to get his finger out and make up his damn mind: two full companies of Imperial marines, thirty-five battle espers and twenty Wampyr. The marines were muttering quietly among themselves, glancing at the Maze when they thought no one was looking, and passing around bottles of booze and battle drugs. The battle espers were looking at anything rather than the Maze and becoming increasingly twitchy. The Wampyr looked like the walking dead, but then they always did. They ignored the Maze, and Silence tried to tell himself it was only his imagination that they were looking increasingly hungry.

Silence sighed quietly. All this because of a handful of rebels. He still didn't understand what was so special about them, but they'd led him a hell of a chase before bringing him here, into the Darkvoid. To an almost legendary planet, to the Tomb of the Hadenmen and the Darkvoid Device itself. Silence had hoped he'd be allowed to kill them now and get it over with, but they'd offended and insulted the Empress, according to V. Stelmach, and that meant they had to be captured and brought back alive, if not necessarily intact, to stand trial on Golgotha. Killing them would have been kinder. And all this time he and his army were standing around, the rebels were getting further away and closer to the Tomb. He gestured wearily for Stelmach to rejoin his pet, and the Security Officer saluted briskly and strode away. Frost stirred at Silence's side, and he turned his head in her direction.

"What do you suppose that thing ahead of us is?" she said quietly. "Just looking at it makes my head ache."

"According to Dram, it's called the Madness Maze," said Silence, careful to keep his voice low, too. "Though when it comes to what that means, your guess is as good as mine. Dram might know, but if he does, he isn't telling. Much. It's apparently some kind of Hadenman defense to keep out intruders like us. Probably booby-trapped, but the espers should be able to spot them in advance. They'd better, I'm sending them in first. I was hoping I could use Stelmach to get direct orders from the Empress about entering the Maze, but it seems the comm systems are jammed, so all we can do is stand around with our thumbs up our asses until the Lord High Bloody Dram deigns to make a decision."

Frost nodded glumly. "How's Stelmach's pet holding up?"

"Still under control, and ready for action. All we need now is an enemy to point it at. And preferably something large to hide behind. I'd feel a lot happier if Stelmach's control wasn't basically just on/off. I can't help feeling that creature knows exactly what's been done to it and is just waiting for one slip on our part to express its extreme displeasure."

"Let it," said Frost. "I'd kick its ass and ruin its day."

The trouble is. Silence thought, she means it. He decided to change the subject before she could get too enthusiastic about the idea. She was quite capable of attacking the alien on an impulse, just to see what would happen. She'd been trained all her life to kill aliens and saw the Sleeper as a challenge. He gestured for Stelmach to come back. The Security Officer glared at him coldly, but did as he was ordered. He might be the Empress' eyes and ears, but Silence was still his superior officer. For the moment. He tried to express that last thought in his cold face and stance as he saluted and stood stiffly at attention.

"Stelmach," Silence said, smiling warmly in a comradely sort of way, "the Investigator and I have been talking about you. Specifically, we've become very intrigued as to what the V. in your name stands for. We've tried everything to find out, including asking the ship's computers, but you seem to have blocked off access to all forms of inquiry. As your Captain, I have to say I don't like the idea of one of my crew withholding information from me. After all, you never know what might prove to be important some day. So be a good man and tell us your first name. Unless you're ashamed of it, of course."

"I am not ashamed of it," Stelmach said coldly. "It is a perfectly good and honorable name. I just prefer not to use it."

"Oh, go on," said Frost. "We won't tell anyone. Not unless it's really embarrassing."

Silence shushed her and was about to try again when the Lord High Dram suddenly turned away from the Maze and strode unhurriedly back to join them. "Send your men in, Captain. Use the marines first. We'll hold back the espers and the Wampyr until we see how the Maze reacts to the marines." He looked briefly at Stelmach. "You stand back, too. We'll need that pet of yours for later. Don't worry, Valiant. You'll get your chance."

He walked back to study the entrance to the Maze again. Stelmach stared straight ahead, two spots of bright crimson burning on his cheeks. Silence and Frost looked at each other and didn't say a thing. They didn't dare. Some moments are just too precious to disturb. Stelmach saluted, turned and strode quickly back to rejoin the Sleeper. He should have waited for his Captain to dismiss him, but something in the extreme straightness of his back suggested this would not be a good time to bring that up. Silence firmly swallowed a smile, and gestured for the two marine company commanders to join him. They approached at something just a little less than a run, eager for orders and a chance to do something before their men started fighting each other under the influence of drink and battle drugs. Silence nodded to them as they saluted and stood at attention.

"Get your men ready. Under the Lord High Dram's orders, I am sending both companies of marines into the Maze." He looked at the commanders sharply, but they just looked calmly back, giving away nothing. Silence smiled grimly. "In an ideal world, we'd send in the remotes first and check the Maze out from top to bottom from a comfortable distance, but apparently we don't have the time. I don't have to tell you to keep your eyes and ears open and your wits about you, but I want us all to be extra careful. There are bound to be hidden dangers and booby traps, either intrinsic to the Maze or left by the rebels. Either way, let's do our best to disappoint them and avoid triggering anything we don't have to. I don't want to be up all night writing letters to your next of kin about why we're sending you home in a sealed coffin."

"Who's going to lead the incursion?" said Frost.

"I am," Silence said flatly. "This is too important to leave to anyone else, and I don't want to hear any arguments from you. Investigator."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Frost briskly. "Especially since I'll be going in with you for exactly the same reason. And I don't want to hear any arguments from you, Captain."

Silence was about to answer her anyway when he realized the two Commanders were watching the exchange with interest. They had enough sense not to smile, but Silence glared at them anyway. "Check your equipment and get your men ready. We'll be going into the Maze in ten minutes, and I don't want to hear any excuses. The Investigator and I will lead the way. I want all the espers to accompany us. No exceptions. If the Lord High Dram says anything, send him to me, and I'll officially ignore him. We'll leave the Wampyr behind to keep Stelmach and his pet company. Just in case. Any questions? And they'd better be important."

"Yes, sir," said Commander Jameson. He was senior by a couple of months to Commander Farrell, and never let him forget it by always insisting on talking first. Silence hadn't heard a dozen words out of Farrell yet, but he lived in hope. Both Commanders were supposed to be good men in a tight corner. Jameson looked straight ahead and kept his voice low. "Will the Lord High Dram be accompanying us into the Maze, sir?"

"The Lord High Dram… will make his own decision. No doubt he'll follow us in when he sees how very careful and professional we're being. Now get your men moving."

The two Commanders saluted and hurried back to their men. There was a lot of shouting and milling about, but the marines were ready to go in an impressively short time. The Wampyr looked neither pleased nor displeased at being left behind. They gathered together near Stelmach and the Sleeper, and the alien and the Wampyr studied each other interestedly. Stelmach looked around for help, but Silence deliberately avoided his eyes. The espers had formed a small group together before the entrance to the Maze and were milling about there like frightened sheep, all wide eyes and abrupt movements. Frost looked at them thoughtfully.

"They don't like the Maze, do they? I can't help thinking we'd do well to listen to them, Captain. They see things we don't."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right." Silence scowled unhappily. "I just hope this bunch hangs together better than the ones we had on Grendel."

"Yeah," said Frost. "I'm still trying to get the blood and brains off my boots."

Silence gave her a pained look and strode over to the espers. They were so mesmerized by the Maze they didn't even notice he was there until he raised his voice. A few managed some kind of salute, but most of them couldn't even stand at attention with any success. Silence made allowances. You didn't expect military virtues from espers. They had other qualities. He nodded calmly to the man in charge, an esper named Graves. The name suited him. He was tall and painfully thin, with a bony face and slightly protruding eyes. Silence couldn't help thinking that he'd buried men who'd looked healthier than Graves, but the man had a good record for noticing things that others missed, and Silence was becoming more and more convinced that he was going to need every advantage he could get his hands on when it came to the Madness Maze. Just standing this close to the entrance was giving him gooseflesh. He would have liked to sigh heavily, but he couldn't afford to look weak before the espers.

Nothing had felt right since he arrived on the Wolfling World, also known as Haden, though they hadn't bothered to tell him that till he got here. No one had even mentioned taking on an army of Hadenmen when he started this mission. Not that it made any difference. When you'd just been repealed from a Court Martial at the very last moment, you went where the Empress sent you, and if you had any reservations, you kept them to yourself. Silence looked sternly at Graves, and the esper stared back like a mournful and slightly surprised fish.

"All right, Graves, what is it about the Maze that's got all of you so upset?"

"It's alive," said Graves. His voice was flat but firm. "We can hear the Maze thinking. Its thoughts are strange and cold as ice. It knows we're here. It's waiting for us."

Silence sighed, despite himself. He should have known better than to expect a straight answer from an esper. "Now, Graves, are we being metaphorical here, or do you mean the Maze is some kind of cyborged lifeform?"

"More than that. Captain. Much more. It's not human life, or human technology."

"Hadenmen?"

"Alien. It's been here a long time, Captain. Long before Humanity ever came here. Constructed, not born, but still alive in every way that counts. It has its own purposes, and they are not human purposes or reasons. If we enter the Maze, we do so at peril of our lives and souls. There are powers between these metal walls to change and transform us beyond human knowledge. And whatever survives the Maze won't be human anymore. Or perhaps… more than human. "

"Did the rebels pass through the Maze?" said Silence. "Did they survive it?"

"Yes, but…"

"But me no buts. If they did it, so can we. Anything else in the Maze I should know about?"

Graves stared at him dolefully, but hid any frustration well. Espers were taught to obey. "There is a place, in the center of the Maze, where we cannot see. A place we dare not look. There's something there: alive, powerful, but not part of the Maze."

Silence frowned. "What kind of alive? Human? Hadenmen? Alien?"

"Unknown, Captain. We can't see. Something… prevents us. Possibly our own minds. I think if we were to look at it too closely, see it too clearly, we would all go mad."

Great, thought Silence. That's all I need. More complications.

"We're going in," he said briskly. "I'll lead the way, with the Investigator, and I want you right there with us. Scatter the rest of your people throughout the marines. Leave a couple with their mind's eye cranked all the way open; if anything is going to happen, I want plenty of warning in advance. The rest can maintain an esper shield, tight as you can make it. I don't want a single stray thought getting out or in. Now get your people moving and motivated; we're going in in a few minutes."

He strode away without waiting for an answer and rejoined Frost, who had her sword out and was running through a few loosening up exercises that would have intimidated the hell out of any enemy with half a brain. Silence didn't like being harsh with the esper, it felt uncomfortably like shouting at a child, and a frightened child at that. But if he wasn't harsh, there was a good chance they'd fall apart. Whatever they'd made contact with in the Maze, it had clearly disturbed the hell out of them. Hopefully, if they were scared enough of him, that should keep them from being too scared of the Maze. He looked back at the shimmering steel walls and shuddered suddenly. Great. Now they'd managed to spook him, too. He made himself concentrate on Frost, as she swept her sword through one vicious cut after another and then was suddenly, smoothly at rest. Her pale skin had a healthy glow, and she looked like she could take on an army. Maybe she could, at that. She was an Investigator, after all. She nodded to him calmly and hefted her sword.

"I'm ready, Captain. Can we make a start now?"

Silence had to smile. "Doesn't anything ever worry you. Investigator?"

"No. Worrying is bad for you. It interferes with the digestion and gives you wrinkles. The greater the challenge, the greater the glory to be gained. At least, that's what the Empire always told us at the academy. Or are you suggesting they lied to us?"

"The Empire, lying to its own people? Perish the thought. Let's go. Investigator. I want to get to the rebels before they can get to the Hadenmen."

"Spoilsport," said Frost.

And so, not long at all after they first arrived, Silence and Frost and the esper called Graves stepped cautiously into the Madness Maze, followed by a small army of marines and espers. The Maze swallowed them up without a murmur, and in a matter of moments they were lost to sight by those they'd left behind. Dram watched them enter, one after another, his face impassive, and he stood looking at the blank, enigmatic walls long after the last of the army had gone. Hidden under his long cloak, his hands had clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists.

At first, it wasn't too bad in the Maze. Each of the shimmering metal walls looked just like any other, and whatever surprises the Maze had, it kept them to itself. Graves took the point almost immediately, his head held erect as though sniffing out the way. He chose each turn with unwavering confidence and concentration, and Silence and Frost followed close behind him. The Investigator had her sword and gun drawn, ready for use. Silence kept his hand near his gun, but didn't touch it. He didn't want his people to get the idea he was nervous. Bad for morale, not to mention discipline. His people were stretched out behind him, marines and espers looking equally uncomfortable. They stuck close together for comfort, and the sergeants had to keep warning them not to bunch up. There was little talking in the ranks. The heavy unbroken silence of the Maze didn't encourage conversation. If there was something coming, and the marines were increasingly sure there was, they wanted to be able to hear it in plenty of time. The espers concentrated on their mental shield and tried not to think about the Maze at all.

It didn't take Silence long to decide he didn't like the Maze. He found its atmosphere oppressive, and the narrow paths between the shimmering walls began to seem uncomfortably claustrophobic, pressing in on him like the sides of a coffin. That last thought made Silence frown a little more. Enclosed spaces weren't something that usually bothered him. Living in the cramped confines of a starship quickly cured you of claustrophobia, or you got out of the Service. But the Maze seemed somehow… overpowering, as though he was a rat scuttling though a scientist's maze he could never hope to understand or appreciate. It wasn't so much that the Maze seemed big, as that it made him feel so very small.

There was a tension on the air, an approaching imminence of something about to happen. Something bad, very bad. The air rippled with heat waves though it was bitterly cold. It smelled of vinegar and burning leaves. Oiled metal and old lemon, sharp on his tongue. Colors seemed very bright, and his distorted reflection in the steel walls seemed somehow wrong. Monstrously wrong. He could hear the chattering of metal birds, and babies screaming, and a single iron bell tolling far, far away. Silence swallowed hard and tried to concentrate, but his thoughts were all over the place, and some of them didn't seem like his at all.

Graves stopped abruptly, and Silence almost crashed into him. He stopped, too, and glared about him. Frost moved in close beside him, sword and gun at the ready. Silence could sense the rest of his people stumbling to a halt. No one said anything, but the tension was so thick it was almost smothering. Silence looked up, but there was only an impenetrable darkness, as before. He looked back at the steel walls, and his stomach lurched as he realized that there were no longer any reflections of him or his people in any of the shimmering walls. Frost was breathing harshly at his side, almost grunting, quivering with the need for an enemy to throw herself at. Graves stared straight ahead, his eyes bulging even more than usual, fixed on something only he could see or sense.

"What is it?" Silence said harshly, forcing the words out "Booby trap?"

"It knows we're here," said Graves, his entirely normal voice seeming almost painfully loud. "It doesn't want us. We're too… inflexible. We're not capable of the changes it wants to make. We wouldn't survive the process."

"How far from the exit are we?" said Silence, making himself concentrate on what mattered. "Are we far behind the rebels?"

"We have to go back, Captain." Graves' voice was flat and uncompromising. "It doesn't want us here. It's dangerous for us to be here."

"What the hell are you talking about, esper?" snapped Frost. "What do you see?"

Graves turned to look at her, and blood seeped suddenly out from under his eyelids, running thick and slow down his cheeks like crimson tears. And then his eyes exploded with soft, wet sounds, the blood and other fluids spraying Frost's face. She snarled with distaste, but didn't give ground by so much as a step. Blood poured in streams from Graves' mouth and nose, his eye sockets and his ears. Silence grabbed Graves by the arm, and it crunched up in his grasp as though there was nothing really there inside the sleeve anymore. The esper folded up and fell slowly and gracefully to the floor, just an empty skin and so much blood. Silence and Frost moved to stand back-to-back, their weapons in their hands.

There were screams all around them. Some didn't sound human. A marine came running toward Silence. He'd thrown away his weapons and had both hands clapped tight to his ears, as though trying to block out some intolerable sound. He kept running even though Silence stepped into his path to stop him, then ran straight through Silence as though he was a ghost. Silence turned quickly to look behind him, but there was no trace of the marine anywhere. Silence put his back against Frost's again, turning round just in time to see a man's head explode as though it had a grenade in it, showering the screaming, jostling mob of marines and espers with blood and brains and fragments of skull.

An esper disappeared, air rushing in to fill the vacuum where he'd been. Other espers were crying and laughing, their eyes wild and empty. A marine, fell into one of the steel walls and disappeared as it swallowed him up. Something horrible appeared in the midst of everything: a tangle of bone and blood and viscera that might have been human once. It disappeared with a wet smack as it reached out to Frost with a dripping hand. She shook her head fiercely, as a throbbing headache beat in her ears like a pulse. Her hands were trembling, but she still held onto her weapons.

Two marines slammed into each other and ran together like two colors on a palette, their sticky flesh intermingling beyond any hope of separation. They both screamed with the same voice. Silence wanted to shoot them, but he didn't. He might need the charge in his gun yet, if only to turn it on himself if it became necessary. Marines and espers were running in all directions now, strange and distorted as though space itself had become elastic where they were. And all around the harsh popping of exploding heads and what used to be human voices laughing and screaming their sanity away.

A growing pressure built around Silence's mind, as though his head was in a vise. His fingers seemed to have too many joints, and he didn't trust his body anymore. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on his mission and his duty. Neither seemed too clear anymore, or particularly important. He forced his eyes open and glared about him, desperate for some enemy he could identify or attack, but there was nothing. Just the dreadful steel walls, and his people dying. He looked back and saw Frost, falling to her knees. She still had hold of her sword and gun, but her eyes were lost in a private hell.

Silence's thoughts slammed together again. He grabbed Frost by the arm and hauled her to her feet, and if her arm didn't feel entirely human, well, neither did he. He had to get out of the Maze. Get Frost out of the Maze. He pointed his disrupter at the nearest wall and fired. The searing energy beam tore through the steel like paper, crumpling it up and throwing it aside. He bolstered his gun and grabbed Frost's. She was muttering to herself, and her eyes were starting to focus again. He aimed his gun at another wall, and it swung slowly backward, opening up a path for him. He hurried back the way he'd come, as near as he could tell, dragging Frost along with him.

And only a few moments later he was staggering out of the Maze, hugging Frost to him, and Stelmach was hurrying forward to meet him. Silence handed Frost over to him, and then sat down suddenly as his legs gave out on him. Somebody was crouching beside him and pressing a hypo against his neck. The cold hiss of the drug surging through his blood revived him a little, and his head began to clear. He realized Dram was standing over him, holding another hypo, and he forced himself to his feet again. He looked across at Frost, who was still sitting on the ground. Stelmach was leaning over her with an empty hypo in his hand, muttering reassuringly to her. Probably embarrass the hell out of her, once she was feeling better, but it seemed to be what she needed for the moment. He looked at Dram, standing beside him.

"How many others made it out of the Maze?"

"There haven't been any others," said Dram. "You two are the only ones. What happened in there?"

Silence shook his head, trying to force his thoughts into some kind of order. "Some kind of esp attack. People went crazy. The whole Maze is one great booby trap."

"Were the espers any protection?"

"No. They were the most susceptible of all."

Dram nodded. "Next time I tell you not to take espers somewhere, do as you're told, Captain."

Silence looked at Dram. "Did you know this was going to happen?" he said softly.

"No. But I had my suspicions. Now, what do you suggest, Captain? You've used up all your marines and espers, but we still have to get past the Maze to reach the rebels."

Silence glared at the Maze. His mind was clear again. "Get everyone back to the main pinnace. Have the pilot power up with special attention to the weapons systems."

Dram raised an eyebrow. "Are we going somewhere, Captain? May I remind you of your orders, and the urgency of our mission…"

"I don't need reminding," said Silence. "I know what I'm doing." He moved away from Dram to rejoin Frost, who was back on her feet again and looked more like herself. She nodded shortly to Silence.

"Thanks for getting me out, Captain. Things got a little fraught in there for a while. Give me a few minutes to catch my breath, and I'll take another stab at the Maze."

"That won't be necessary," said Silence. "We're not going through the Maze again. I've got a better idea. Now come with me back to the main pinnace. And before you ask, no, we're not going anywhere."

"Very well, Captain. May I ask who it was murmuring sweet nothings into my ear while I was recovering?"

"Valiant Stelmach, as it happens."

"Ah. I really must thank him, when I have a moment. And also make it very clear that if he ever talks of it to anyone else, I will kill him." She looked at Silence steadily. "We're the only survivors, aren't we?"

"Yes. The others are all dead. If they're lucky."

Frost nodded slowly. "This is going to be one of those days, I can tell."

It didn't take them long to get back through the forest to the main pinnace. The Dauntless had used its banks of disrupter cannon to blast a way through the frozen atmosphere and the planet's surface to reach the hidden interior of the Wolfling World. After that it was simple enough to fly the pinnaces down the new tunnel, so they could blast an opening into the ancient caverns below. Silence led what remained of his people back through the dark forest to where the pinnaces lay waiting and ordered them aboard the main pinnace. The long narrow ship was already powered up, all systems online, and Silence felt a grim satisfaction as he ordered the pilot to move the ship slowly forward.

The pinnacle's engines murmured threateningly as the craft rose a few feet into the air and then edged forward foot by foot. Silence sat stiffly in the bridge command chair, his eyes fixed on the viewscreen. The dark forest filled the screen, ancient and awesome. Silence studied it for a long moment, and then personally took control of the pinnacle's weapon systems and blasted a path right through the forest. Most of the trees disappeared in a moment, blown to nothing by disrupter cannon firing at point-blank range. The ship moved smoothly forward, hovering a few feet above the scorched earth, A few burning trees still stood at the extreme edges of where the forest had been, but nothing else remained between the pinnace and the Madness Maze.

Silence brought the ship right to the edge of the Maze, only a few feet short of the first shimmering steel walls, and held it there. The Maze looked back, silent and arrogant, holding within itself the blood and ghosts of murdered men. Silence sat back in his command chair, smiling coldly at the viewscreen. Frost stood silently at his side. Silence's hand moved to the fire controls. He might be too late to save his people, but he could still avenge them. The Empire scientists would be furious at the loss of such an important alien find, but Silence couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He grinned coldly and opened fire.

The Maze was swept away almost instantly, its metal walls curling up and disintegrating like leaves caught in a flamethrower. Silence shut down the disrupter cannon and listened intently as his bridge crew gave him the new sensor readings. No trace of the Maze remained, leaving the Hadenman city beyond broken and shattered. Air and temperature readings dropped to normal surprisingly quickly, but Silence felt he was owed some good luck.

He was the first to leave the pinnace and step out onto the blasted plain, and Frost was right there at his shoulder. The air was hot and dry, rasping in their lungs. There was nothing to show the Maze had ever been there. Frost chuckled softly.

"Don't mess with us; we've got the big guns. Nice shooting. Captain. Ever thought of becoming an Investigator?"

"A shame about the Maze," said Dram, moving forward to join them. "I would have liked to study it, but time is of the essence. The rebels must not be allowed to reach the Tomb of the Hadenmen. Will you lead the way, or shall I?"

"I lead," said Silence. 'This is still my mission."

He gathered up what remained of his people, a dozen technicians from the pinnace, the Wampyr, Stelmach and his pet, and led them across the bare plain toward what remained of the city. They all carried their guns at the ready, but nothing appeared to threaten them. The metal walls were gone, and with them the bodies of the fallen. Silence made a mental note to hold funeral services at a later date. The forms should still he observed, even if the bodies could not be recovered. And then he saw something standing alone in the middle of the plain. He increased his pace, and soon they were all standing around a large glowing crystal, staring silently at the tiny human baby it held.

"Now that is interesting," said Frost. "Why didn't the pinnacle's sensors pick this up?"

"To hell with the sensors," said Silence. "How did it survive the disrupter fire?"

"A force field of some kind," said Dram.

"Right," said Frost. "A force field that our sensors didn't even know was there and could stand up to point-blank energy cannon. Whoever left this baby here really didn't want its rest disturbed."

"Leave it," said Dram. "It's not important. Only the rebels matter now."

"Agreed," Silence said reluctantly. "Move on, people. Keep together when we hit the city, but don't get in each other's way. If you see anyone, and they're not us, open fire. We don't have any friends down here."

Before the Maze went down, the five people who'd passed through it and survived stood at the edge of the Hadenman city and began to discover just how much they had been changed. They all felt stronger, fitter, their thoughts unusually clear and lucid. Even the Hadenman was moved to say how well his various systems were functioning. They all looked at each other, waiting for someone to put into words what they were feeling, all of them strangely reluctant to break the mood of the moment in case it might fade away if questioned. Finally Owen shook his head slowly.

"After everything we've been through, I should be out on my feet, but I feel like I could take on an army."

"Right," said Hazel. "A large army. I feel… completely revitalized. Everything seems so—"

"Sharp," said Ruby. "Distinct. As though the world's suddenly come into focus for the first time. And the Maze; I understand—"

"Its function. Yes," said Random. "I only have to look at it, and I know what its purpose is. Evolution. Transcendence. Perfection. If we were to stay in it long enough, who knows what we might become. Have you noticed we're all ending each other's sentences?"

"Yes," said Giles. "There's a bond. I can feel it. Like esp, but deeper, more fundamental. We've changed. We're—"

"Different," said Moon. "Very different. You are now more than human, and I have become more than a Hadenman. Interesting. I wonder if the rest of my people also passed through the Maze, before entering their Tomb."

"God, I hope not," said Owen. "That's all Humanity needs: an army of super-evolved Hadenmen."

"Whatever happens," Moon said calmly, "I think I can guarantee that in the coming rebellion, my people will not be fighting on the same side as the Empire."

"I'm not so sure I want you on our side, either," said Owen.

"Damn right," said Hazel. "You guys made yourselves really unpopular the last time around. That's what comes of having a battlecry of 'Death to Humanity.'"

"Imperial propaganda," said Moon. "All we ever wanted was our freedom."

"He's telling the truth," said Random. "I can feel it in him."

"So can I," said Ruby. "It's like… seeing colors for the first time. Weird. Are we espers now, or what?"

"Definitely what," said Owen. "And while I believe Moon, he's been away from his people for a long time. People change. Giles, you're being very quiet. Something wrong?"

"The universe itself has changed since I last remember it," said Giles. "And now it seems I am undergoing fundamental changes, too. Pardon me if I find this all rather disorienting."

"We can talk about this later," said Hazel. "In the meantime, how about getting the hell out of here? The Imperial forces can't be that far behind us."

And then she stopped and looked back at the Madness Maze. They all did, their new senses triggered by & sharp premonition of danger. They heard the roar of an approaching pinnace, and then the thunder of disrupter cannon. Owen started to shout a warning, and then the whole Maze exploded in a blinding flare of sleeting energies. The rebels moved together, instinctively, and a force shield formed around them, drawn from within themselves. And not even the bartering storm of released energies could penetrate it. The force of the explosion died away, and the air slowly cleared. The Maze was gone, swept away in a moment. Where it had been, an Imperial pinnace hovered. The force field dropped, and the rebels looked around with equal parts of surprise and shock. All around them, the Hadenman city had been shattered and torn apart like a child's building blocks scattered by a storm. Buildings had toppled or collapsed or been torn apart, and there was ruin and devastation for as far as they could see. A city that had stood for so long, torn down by an uncaring hand.

"And they call my people monsters," said Moon.

"That could have been us," said Owen. "By all rights, we ought to be dead."

"Our own personal force shield," said Hazel. "Now that is going to come in handy."

"Not necessarily," said Moon, his composure restored. "We had to draw on our own collective energy to power it. We couldn't do it separately."

"In other words," said Random, "we only have the shield for as long as we stick together. You think the Maze was trying to tell us something?"

"Considering that we are currently staring down the gun barrels of an Imperial ship, I am quite prepared to listen," said Ruby.

"Those cannon are useless until the energy crystals recharge," said Giles. "So their next step will be to send men out to check the ruins. And then we can show them just how powerful we have become."

"Right," said Hazel, her eyes lighting up at the thought. "They don't know the kind of weapons we've got, either. This is going to be fun."

"Hold everything," Owen said suddenly. "What happened to the Wolfling?"

They all stopped and looked at each other, and then around them, but there was no sign of him.

"Did anyone see him come out of the Maze?" said Random. "I kind of lost track of things for a while."

"Maybe… he didn't get out," said Ruby.

"No," said Giles immediately. "He would have made it through. Perhaps he came out ahead of us and moved on into the city."

They all looked at the ruins around them. Owen shook his head. "Either way, it doesn't look too good for him, does it?

And then they were all distracted by the sound of the pinnace landing and turning off its engines. They all turned to look, hefting their weapons. A side door opened in the pinnace, a ramp lowered and men came hurrying out. There didn't seem to be too many of them, but Owen's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"Wampyr," he said quietly.

"And that man leading them is the Lord High Dram," said Ruby. "Warrior Prime, and current favorite of the Iron Bitch."

"No," said Giles. "That's not his name. Not his real name. I suppose it was inevitable that if I returned here, so would he."

"What are you talking about?" said Owen. "I recognize him. Everyone in the Empire knows who Dram is."

"But I know who he used to be," said Giles, and his mouth hardened into a thin, flat line. They all looked at him, but he had nothing more to say.

Wonderful, thought Owen. More secrets. And then Stelmach and his alien appeared, and Owen forgot about everything else. His mouth went dry as he looked at the creature, age-old instincts stirring the hairs on the back of his neck. It wasn't just that the alien was huge and armored, with far too many teeth and claws; Owen could feel how dangerous it was, even at such a distance. His new senses hammered in his head like an alarm. It was like seeing Death itself, walking cold and unhurried in the light of the pinnace, waiting only to be unleashed. Owen scowled. He'd never seen anything like it before, and could have done without seeing it now, but on the other hand, it had never come across anything like him, either. He was more than he was, and part of him itched for a chance to prove it in battle against a worthy opponent. He glanced at the others, who seemed equally fascinated by the alien.

"Anyone any idea what that thing is?" said Owen, trying hard to sound casual.

"Ugly," said Hazel. "Definitely ugly."

"Right," said Ruby. "Let's kill it now, before things get hectic."

"No," said Owen immediately. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Not yet. Let them come a little closer, in range of our guns."

"Sound thinking," said Random. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel like I could shoot the eye out of a fly's head."

"He's right," said Hazel. "Look how far they are from us now, but I can see every one of them as clearly as if they were just across the room. I think if I concentrated, I could probably hear them talking."

"The Wampyr are in for a shock," said Ruby. "They think they're just up against humans. They may be adjusted men, but we're the new improved version."

"Don't start getting cocky," said Giles. "We're still vastly outnumbered and outgunned. An energy beam doesn't care how superior you are."

"You're forgetting the force shield," said Hazel. "No, I'm not. That only works as long as we're together. What if we get separated? What if we can only use it a few times before it burns us out? There's a lot we don't know about our new selves, and that includes our limitations."

"I agree," said Moon. "The odds are not good. We can't afford to rely on powers and abilities we don't fully understand yet. So, you people keep them busy, and I will press on to the Tomb of the Hadenmen. Only my people can help us now."

And as suddenly as that he was off and running, darting silently between the rubble of devastated buildings before disappearing into the shadows. It was all over so quickly they didn't even have the time to call after him before he was gone.

"Well, that's just great," Hazel said disgustedly. "There goes our force shield, for a start."

"And our greatest fighter," said Random. "I told you before, you can never trust a Hadenmen to follow orders. They always have their own private agenda."

"Let him go," said Giles. "At least we don't have to watch our back anymore. The Imperial forces are moving. We'd better find some cover before they get close enough to spot us."

The rebels moved on into the ruined city, taking up positions behind fallen stones and in darkened doorways. They watched silently as the Imperial forces moved slowly out across the bare plain where the Maze had once been, and their fingers curled impatiently around triggers. Owen hefted his projectile weapon uncertainly. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it. The gun had several obvious advantages, but when all was said and done, it was no use at all against a force shield. That was why it had been superceded by the disrupter in the first place. But Giles had faith in them, and he was after all the original Deathstalker, the greatest warrior of his day. Owen sighed quietly and sank back into his doorway. Guns were all very well, but those were Wampyr out there on the plain, a small army of them. Walking nightmares, fast and strong and unstoppable by anything except a direct hit with an energy weapon. And then the forces stopped, halfway across, and gathered around something they'd found. Even though Owen couldn't see it, he knew what it had to be. The Darkvoid Device, sleeping in its crystal, untouched by the vicious force that had swept the Madness Maze away so casually. Hazel stirred behind her pile of rubble not far away.

"The Tomb of the Hadenmen isn't far from here," she said quietly. "I can feel it, on the edge of my mind. Cold and metal and unforgiving."

"Right," said Owen. "Which means we can't allow any of these people to get past us. Moon is going to need all the uninterrupted time we can buy him to wake his people."

"I'm still not sure I like the idea of that," said Ruby Journey, crouching behind an overturned brass pillar. "I mean… Hadenmen."

"I know what you mean," said Random, "but if there's one thing I've learned as a lifetime rebel, it's that you can't always choose your allies."

"Keep your attention on the Imperial forces," said Giles, invisible in the shadows of a deep doorway. "They'll be within range soon."

"So will the Hadenmen," said Ruby. "Moon might be straight, but… we could end up with Wampyr in front of us and Hadenmen behind, with nowhere for us to run."

"Oh, stop moaning," said Hazel. "Since when have you ever run away from a good fight?"

"It's the principle of the thing," said Ruby. "I like to have the choice."

"You were never that hot on principles, either. The Madness Maze must have changed you more than we thought."

Owen grinned, listening to the two friends squabble amicably. It was a moment of warmth and sanity in an increasingly insane situation. He'd come a long way from the young historian who'd just wanted to be left alone, happy in his obscurity on a backwater planet. Now here he was, allied with Wolflings and Hadenmen and living legends, planning to lead a rebellion against the greatest and most powerful Empire that Humanity had ever known. Talk about delusions of grandeur. But looking back at the twists and turns his life had taken recently, there wasn't much he would have done differently. Except for the young girl he'd crippled on Mistworld. He'd see her face till the day he died.

But he was where he was, with an enemy before him and an unknown factor behind him, and if he was going to die, he could at least die well, like a Deathstalker should. For all his faults, he'd always liked to think of himself as an honorable man. He smiled suddenly, as a thought struck him.

"Giles, assuming by some miracle we get out of this alive and more or less intact, how about we change our Family name to something a little more positive and upbeat? I mean, Deathstalker really is a bloody gloomy name when you think about it."

Then don't think about it," Giles said calmly. "Deathstalker's a good name. I chose it myself. It's got style."

They'll never get it on your headstone," said Hazel. "Too many letters."

"Heads up," said Random. "They're in range now. Won't he long before their sensors detect us."

"Right," said Ruby. "I think the dance is about to begin. Choose your partners carefully and don't do anything your mother would approve of."

"All this time without a single smile, and now she develops a sense of humor," said Random. "And a twisted one at that."

"Shut up and pick your targets," said Owen. "Let's see if we can get some of them before they can get us."

"Damn right," said Hazel. She stood up suddenly, gripped her biggest projectile weapon firmly and set it against her shoulder, and opened fire. The recoil sent her staggering backward, but the spray of bullets swept across the massed Wampyr and knocked several of them off their feet. The rest of the Imperial party quickly raised their force shields and returned fire with their energy weapons. Hazel dived for cover, and Owen kept his head well down till the barrage was over. He counted to five, just in case, and then raised his head and snapped off a shot with his disrupter. It ricocheted from a force shield and disappeared off into the darkness. More energy bolts stabbed out from the rebel positions to equal lack of effect. A force shield would go down if you hit it often enough with an energy bolt, but the rebels didn't have that much firepower, and the Empire forces knew it. They waited for the rebel's disrupters to fall silent, and then charged the rebel positions for some sword to sword contact before the energy crystals could recharge. And the rebels stood up and let fly with their projectile weapons.

The roar of the bullets caught the marines and the Wampyr by surprise. Some had even lowered their force shields to save energy, and the bullets tore them apart with bloody thoroughness. The rest kept coming, sheltering behind their shields, desperate to get to close quarters and fighting they understood. The Security Officer spoke to his massive alien companion, and it sprinted forward ahead of the rest, bullets ricocheting harmlessly from its silicon armor. Owen jumped out of his doorway to meet it, sword in hand, and the alien sent him sprawling with a casual backhand slap before running past the rebels and on into the city.

"It's gone after Moon!" said Hazel.

"Let it," said Owen, sitting up and spitting blood from a split lip. "Moon's probably the only one of us who could take it, anyway."

And then the Empire forces were upon them, almost halved by the unexpected projectile weapons, but just that much more furious and determined. The rebels rose from their hiding places, discarded the guns as too dangerous to use against force shields in close quarters, and went to meet the enemy sword in hand. At the end, it was what they knew and trusted. Steel rang on steel, and the air was full of the sound of conflict.

Owen found himself face-to-face with the Captain, and they circled each other cautiously, searching for an opening. Their blades slammed together and then sprang apart, and they went back to circling each other, their eyes cold and focused. Hazel and the Investigator stood toe-to-toe and hammered away at each other with their swords, neither giving an inch. Around these two conflicts, the surviving Wampyr attacked the remaining rebels with savage strength and speed, and were astonished to find themselves met with equal force and fury. Jack Random, Ruby Journey and Giles Deathstalker had survived the Madness Maze, and they were as inhuman now as the Wampyr themselves. The old Deathstalker moved among the Wampyr with deadly speed, black blood flying from his blade. He was the first and foremost Warrior Prime of the Empire, brought to the peak of his potential, and no one could stand against him. He cut a vicious path through his foes, human and inhuman, killing all in impunity, unstoppable, in his element at last.

Random and Ruby stood back-to-back and fought on against a seemingly endless supply of enemies. Random felt like a young man again, strong and sure, his sword an extension of his will. It seemed to him he had never fought as well as he did now, but there were just so many Wampyr, and they were so very hard to kill. Ruby fought with a savage controlled fury, cutting and hacking and ignoring the occasional blade that got past her defenses. Random and Ruby were beyond pain or exhaustion now, fighting at the peak of their abilities, but in the end, it was not enough.

Gradually, foot by foot, they were driven apart and surrounded by their enemies, like two lone wolves in me midst of a pack of snapping dogs. Random fought on, bloody from a dozen wounds that would have stopped a lesser man, his face calm and determined. There were bodies all around him, and eventually the inevitable happened, and he stumbled over one. The Wampyr surged forward from every side, sweeping aside his sword, and they brought him down. He fell hard, still lashing out with his fists as sword after sword pierced his body.

Ruby saw him fall, and screamed in rage and pain. Of them all, Jack Random had been the only one of the group she'd been impressed by. Her only hero. She would have died for Jack Random. She cut and hacked a path through the press of bodies, forcing the Wampyr back, to stand over Random's unmoving form and defy the Empire to take him from her. A disrupter beam from behind hit her squarely between the shoulder blades, and she fell across Jack Random's body and lay still. Her cloak burned steadily over the hole in her back.

Tobias Moon moved swiftly through the dead city of the Hadenmen and wondered that it seemed so strange to him. He had never seen the home of his people before, but even so he was a Hadenman and had expected something about the city to be familiar, even welcoming. Instead, he passed between towering ruins of metal and stone whose shapes made no sense to him, gathered together in patterns that defied analysis. He had been among Humanity too long and had adopted their sense of beauty and meaning. He'd have to forget much of what he'd learned, if he was to live among his own people again. If they would have him.

Finally the buildings and structures fell away, and he came at last to the Tomb of the Hadenmen. It stood alone in a great natural cavern: a vast honeycomb of silver and gold, thickly encrusted with ice. Within its countless cells, thousands of augmented men lay waiting in their endless sleep. Waiting for him to awaken them and unleash the Hadenmen upon Humanity again. Moon stared steadily at the massive Tomb and did not know what to do. Strange lights crawled back and forth among the individual cells, as though their occupants were dreaming fitfully of life, and Moon just stood there and watched them.

He always thought of himself as a Hadenman, because that was what people saw when they looked at him. They saw the golden glare of his eyes and heard the harsh buzz of his voice and kept their distance even as they talked to him. And so he lived among humans for many years, with them, but not of them. Never one of them.

He remembered little of his time among his own people in the last dying days of the Hadenman rebellion. He'd been quickened aboard ship, between planets, and his first memories were of fighting and battle on a world whose name he never learned. They lost that one and had to run for their lives in sleek golden ships whose speed the Empire couldn't match.

Not long after, Moon's ship became separated from the main Hadenman fleet, and it was ambushed and shot down by Imperial forces. It crashlanded on Loki, and Moon was one of the few survivors. He spent some time in hiding, living like an animal on what he could find or steal. He soon found that there were some kinds of human who had a use for a warrior like him, and so he passed from master to master, and planet to planet, until finally he ended up on Mistworld, like so many others, because there was nowhere else he could go. And there, his energy crystals mostly depleted, he lived among humans as little more than a human. No one in Mistport cared about his past. They had their own horrors to forget.

And so he became just another face in the crowd, accepted as such, and learned to live as humans did.

And then the rebels came, and the chance to finally go home, to find the Tomb on lost Haden and be the savior of his race, was just too great to turn down. He thought about the rebels and became even more uncertain. Good fighters, all of them, for their differing reasons. They had treated him as one of them, sometimes even as a friend as well as an ally, and they were fighting and dying now to buy him the time to awaken his people, even though the Hadenmen's first act might be to slaughter them all. Moon stared fixedly at the Tomb. He liked the rebels. They were brave and true, warriors all, committed to each other through blood and sacrifice and friendship. They felt like the family he'd never had, and always felt guilty for wanting, suspecting that was not a true Hadenman feeling. But they were humans, and he was not, and never could be. They were men and women, and he was not. Men and women had their sex cut away, along with every other irrelevance, when they became augmented men. Hadenmen were made, not born, constructed from raw materials, human and tech, as required. He wondered if his fellow rebels would still have wanted to be friends, if they'd known.

Perhaps they would. They were remarkable people.

But they were not his people. If he was ever to have the company of his own kind, the sense of belonging he had craved for so long, he had no choice but to awaken the Hadenmen from their Tomb. He moved steadily over to the control panels, set conveniently to hand, and began confidently to run through the quickening routines programmed into him so many years before. And even as his hands moved over the panels in response to implanted memories, he still found time to wonder whether his craving for his own kind was also programming, or a simple human emotion he had acquired along the way.

He'd almost finished when he sensed something behind him. His augmented hearing hadn't picked anything up, but his Maze-adjusted mind knew he was no longer alone. He spun round and found himself facing the alien he'd seen earlier with the Empire forces. It towered over him, flexing its clawed hands, huge in its spiked crimson armor. Ropy saliva ran from its grinning jaws and smoked where it hit the floor. It occurred to Moon that a human might have been paralyzed by terror, but his calm logical mind was already studying the hulking figure for possible weaknesses. He computed its probable strength and speed, based on obvious facts such as size and weight and proportion of muscle tissue, and came up with disquieting answers. He drew his disrupter from its holster and fired it in one blindingly swift movement, but the alien was no longer there. It had moved even faster than him and dodged to one side.

Moon bolstered his gun and drew his sword. It would take two minutes for the gun's energy crystal to recharge, and he had a strong feeling the fight would be over by then. Maybe he should have picked a projectile weapon after all. He smiled, and felt an almost human thrill at the thought of a real challenge at last. Given time, he would have enjoyed studying the alien, its abilities and attributes, but it had to die. It was standing between him and the awakening of his people. He used the last of his remaining energy to revitalize as many of his built-in options as possible. New life surged through him, as though he himself was awakening from the long sleep of being human. Of being only human. Old systems, long unused, came on-line again, and Moon grinned coldly. The alien was about to meet a real Hadenman and find out why all the Empire feared them.

But he'd have to be quick, while the last of his energy lasted. He stepped forward, his sword a whistling silver blur on the air, and the alien couldn't move fast enough to evade him this time. Instead, it blocked the blow solidly with an upraised arm. The sword blade was tempered New Damascus steel, with an edge that could cut through solid stone, and backed by Moon's inhuman strength it should have neatly severed the alien's arm and left it twitching on the ground. Instead, it shattered on the alien's living armor. Moon paused for the merest moment, then tossed the hilt aside as the alien went for his throat.

The two of them slammed together, strength and speed almost equal, driven by fury and instinct, two killers, each constructed to be the best. The clawed hands fastened around Moon's throat, and he grabbed the smooth slippery wrists with all his strength. For a long moment they stood facing each other, silently straining, and then Moon slowly pulled the hands away from his throat. Blood ran down his neck from puncture wounds left by the alien's claws. He suddenly relaxed his grip, stepped inside the alien's reach and slammed a punch into its midsection. It was a blow that would have shattered a human's bones and finished the fight there and then, but the alien didn't even flinch. Moon's hand throbbed with pain. The alien wrapped him in a fierce hug, driving the air from his lungs, its dripping jaws reaching down for his face. Moon broke the alien's hold with an effort and stepped back, breathing hard.

The alien lunged forward so quickly its form blurred in Moon's vision, and he consciously speeded up his thoughts and reactions. The cyborg and the alien circled around each other, moving inhumanly fast, fists hammering, claws cutting und tearing, and their different-colored blood spattered the floor. Moon felt fast and strong and powerful, and not even the slightest trace of pain or fatigue bothered him, but he knew that was an illusion. He was draining his power cells at a dangerous rate to maintain that state, and if he didn't win the fight soon, he'd bum himself out and save the alien the job of killing him. So, when in doubt, cheat.

He concentrated, and the disrupter concealed inside his left forearm nosed out of the hidden slit in his wrist. The alien sensed something was wrong and jumped back. Moon grinned coldly and triggered the energy weapon. The searing beam punched a hole right through the alien's gut and out its back. Moon darted in quickly to seize the advantage, but impossibly, the alien hadn't flinched. Its clawed hands snapped out and tore Moon's left arm out of its socket.

Moon staggered backward, black blood gushing from the horrid wound at his shoulder, but already his augmented body was working to seal off the ruptured blood vessels, using the implanted steel webbing under his skin to self-cauterize the wound. He felt pain and shock, but only at a distance. He was still in control. He was a Hadenman. The alien looked at the twitching arm in its hand and bit savagely into the muscle. It tore away a lump of flesh and chewed the meat thoughtfully. Moon glanced at the control panels behind him. He'd almost finished the wakeup routines when the alien arrived to interrupt him. A few last codes, and his people would awaken and save him. But he knew that if he turned away, even for a moment, the alien would jump him. His energy levels were almost depleted, and the wound had cost him dearly. He had to win the fight now, while he still could.

He plunged forward, automatically compensating for the loss of balance his wound caused, and the alien threw aside the half-eaten arm and surged forward to meet him. Moon ducked under the reaching clawed hands and slammed his remaining hand into the hole in the alien's gut. The creature jerked spasmodically as he forced his hand in deep, searching for a vital organ. He was hurting it now. He could tell. And then the sides of the hole slammed together to grip his wrist firmly, holding it in place. Moon looked up into the alien's grinning jaws and crimson eyes, and knew, coldly and calmly and very certainly, that he'd made a mistake. The alien gripped Moon's head firmly with both long-fingered hands and tore it off his shoulders.

Moon's body convulsed, spouting blood from the ragged neck, and then it collapsed, its hand still held in the alien's gut. The alien smiled into Moon's fading golden eyes, and then threw the head away. It rolled across the floor and bumped up against the control panels. And with the last few moments of his sight, Moon watched with a cold, despairing hate as the alien began to devour his body. And then there was only the darkness and his thoughts fading away as the last of his energy ran out.

Giles Deathstalker and the man now known as Dram came together in the middle of the battle, and on Dram's signal the Wampyr drew back to give them room. Blood dripped thickly from Giles' blade, but Dram's was spotless. He had held back till then, waiting for the best moment to commit himself. Giles stood surrounded by dead bodies, marine technicians and Wampyr, bleeding from many superficial wounds but still defiant. He grinned suddenly, flicking drops of blood from his sword.

"I should have known you'd be here. You always had to be in at the kill, didn't you? You learned that much from me, at least. You're looking good, son."

"I look after myself," said Dram. "I had a lot of practice at that while you were off running around the Empire, playing Warrior Prime. And since you weren't there to be a father to me, I occupied myself by studying the great game of politics and intrigue at the Imperial Court. All the plots and plans and maneuverings you could never be bothered with. Just like you could never be bothered with me. I've become everything you ever hated, Father, and you don't know how warm that makes me feel inside."

"You were an unnatural child," said Giles. "You broke your mother's heart, and you would have broken mine, if I'd let you. For a long time I thought you were dead. I paid the assassin enough. But I never did see the body. I assume you slept the years away in stasis, like me?"

"Oh, yes, Father. I wanted to be here waiting for you when you finally reappeared. The Empress Lionstone found and awakened me, and I've spent the last few years amusing myself by acquiring every honor you ever had, and more. I'm Warrior Prime now, and official Consort, and one day not too far off, I'll be Emperor. And the Empire you helped make, and believed in so fiercely, will kneel down and fear me. But don't worry, Father. I won't forget you. I'll keep your head in a glass case by my throne, so I can look at it every day and laugh."

"You always did talk too much," said Giles. "Are you going to talk me to death, or shall we fight?"

"Oh, we're going to fight, Father. I've been looking forward to this for a long time. And don't worry; if I look like losing, my people will kill you anyway."

"You never did have any honor."

"And you always had too much. Time to die, old man. I'm going to put you out of my misery."

As suddenly as that they slammed together, blades flashing, attacking and parrying and leaping apart, all in a moment. Sparks flew where their swords met, and the air was full of the ring of steel on steel. They stamped back and forth, grunting with the effort of their blows, and slowly, foot by foot, Giles was driven back. He'd already taken enough wounds to kill a lesser man, and Dram was fresh and unhurt and a great deal younger. They fought on, oblivious to what was happening in the fighting around them, two sides of a blood feud begun nine hundred years before.

Dram fought with a cold, grinning fury that poured strength into his blows, and Giles' arm was already tired from fighting the unnatural strength of the Wampyr, but in the end he was the Deathstalker, and Dram was not. Giles deliberately left an opening, and Dram lunged forward, his sword punching into Giles' left side, just below the ribs. Giles' left hand shot out and grabbed Dram's wrist, holding the blade in place. Dram tried to jerk his blade free, and couldn't. Giles allowed him just enough time to realize that, and for the fear to grow in Dram's eyes, then he thrust his own sword into his son's heart. Giles smiled into the dying eyes as the light went out of them, and then pulled back his sword and let Dram's body fall unmoving to the ground. Giles carefully eased Dram's sword out of his side, let it drop, and looked challengingly around him.

Most of the Imperial forces were dead or dying, but a handful of Wampyr stood watching him thoughtfully. Beyond them, Owen and Hazel were still dueling with Captain Silence and the Investigator. Giles drew his disrupter and shot one of the Wampyr. The energy beam tore right through its chest, and the force of the blow threw it off its feet. It lay still among the other bodies, and the other Wampyr studied it for a moment, as though expecting it to get back up. When it didn't, they turned their dead faces back to Giles and formed a circle around him. They took their time. They knew he had nowhere to run. Giles swallowed hard and tried to control his harsh breathing. If he didn't finish the fight soon, he'd bleed to death before they could kill him. He could feel the blood coursing down his left leg from the ugly wound in his side. The Wampyr studied it hungrily, and Giles shuddered in spite of himself. He was tired now and feeling his age, and after all, six Wampyr would have been a bit much for him, even in his prime.

"Owen!" he yelled harshly. "Stop playing with that man and get after Moon. He's been gone too long. Something must have happened to him. We need the Hadenmen!"

Owen cursed silently. He'd already used practically every trick he knew, and the Captain was still beating him. But there was one thing he hadn't tried. Hazel had taught it to him. He'd avoided using it up till now because it was a frankly dishonorable way to win, but right then, losing struck him as even less honorable. He went blade to blade with Silence, glaring at the Captain over the crossed swords, and brought his knee sharply up into Silence's groin. The Captain's sword wavered as his eyes squeezed shut involuntarily. Owen beat the blade aside, grabbed a handful of Silence's tunic, and head-butted him in the face. Silence fell to his knees, blood streaming from a broken nose, and Owen turned and ran for the Tomb of the Hadenmen. The last thing he saw was the Wampyr closing in around Giles and the Investigator driving Hazel back with a flurry of blows. He didn't look back again. He didn't dare.

Owen found Moon easily enough. The augmented man's body was lying on the blood-drenched floor before the Tomb of the Hadenmen. The alien was squatting over him, tearing out handfuls of his exposed guts and feasting on them. It looked up unhurriedly as Owen entered, red strands hanging from its grinning steel teeth. Owen drew his disrupter and fired, but even with his new speed, the alien dodged the beam easily. Owen drew the projectile gun from his belt, and the alien surged toward him. Owen got off two shots, both of which ricocheted harmlessly from the alien's armor, and then the huge beast was upon him.

There was no time to draw his sword, and Owen staggered backward, grasping the alien's wrists with both hands to keep the clawed hands away from his throat. The beast towered over him, its bloody teeth driving for his face. Owen released his hold, slumped down and threw himself forward between the alien's legs. He hit the ground rolling and was quickly back on his feet, drawing his sword. The alien spun round to face him, and Owen met its cold grin with his own. He thought of Hazel and Giles, left to face the Imperial forces alone, of Ruby and Random left for dead, and of Moon, dying so close to everything he dreamed of, and rage swept through him, cold and fierce and unrelenting. In that moment, the alien represented everything the Empire had done to try and destroy him and those he cared for. He'd been unable to boost while facing the Captain. In using the boost to throw off Ozymandius' mental control, he'd used up so much of himself he hadn't dared use it again. But now he didn't give a damn. The alien had to die so that he could wake the Hadenmen and save Hazel and Giles. Nothing else mattered. The alien swept forward, and Owen boosted and went to meet it sword in hand. He was a Deathstalker, and the alien was about to find out what that meant.

He swung his sword at the alien's neck with all his boosted strength, and the blade shattered against the unyielding armor. The aliens' hands shot out and fastened onto his shoulders. Blood coursed down his arms as the claws sank deeply into his flesh and grated on bone. The creature tried to pull him closer, within reach of its horrid jaws, and Owen slammed the hand still holding the stub of his sword against the alien's chest. His boosted muscles strained against the alien's strength, but still he was pulled closer, inch by inch. Any other man would have been dead by now, and even with his boost and what the Maze had done to him, Owen was still a man and saw his death in the alien's unblinking crimson eyes.

He glanced down at the hole in the alien's gut. At least Moon had hurt it. An idea came to him, and he acted on it quickly before he could think about the implications too much. He grabbed a grenade from his pocket, primed it, and thrust it deep into the hole in the alien's gut. He let go of it, but before he could withdraw his hand, the sides of the hole clamped shut on his wrist. Owen tried to pull free and couldn't. So he gathered all his boosted strength and cut down savagely with the stub of blade in his other hand. The jagged steel tore through his wrist, severing his hand, and Owen threw himself backward, out of the alien's reach. It brought its clawed hands to the hole in its gut, and the grenade, still wrapped in Owen's hand, exploded.

White hot flames burned the alien inside and out, and the internal pressure blew the grinning head right off its shoulders. The body staggered back and forth for a long moment, its arms reaching out blindly, and then the strength went out of it suddenly, and it fell to the floor and lay still.

Owen squeezed the stump of his wrist tightly with his other hand, shuddering uncontrollably. The blood jetted out at first, far further than he'd have thought possible, but it soon died away to a bare trickle. There was something he had to do. Something important. His gaze wandered back and forth, and finally stumbled over Moon's decapitated head lying by the control panels. Owen shuffled forward on his knees through his own blood, still tightly gripping his wrist. The Hadenmen. He had to wake the Hadenmen. Hazel was depending on him. He reached the control panels and used them to pull himself to his feet. He leaned on it tiredly for a moment, spattering it with blood from his dripping wrist, and studied the controls. They made no sense to him at all. He glared down at Moon's head, stooped down and picked it up with his remaining hand, so he could glare into its empty eyes.

"Moon, you bastard! What do I do? How do I awaken them? Tell me!"

A faint golden glow appeared in Moon's eyes. His lips moved, and Owen lifted the head so that its mouth was by his ear. And very softly he heard Moon whisper, "Blue three seven seven zero." Owen dropped the head and turned back to the panels. His lips were pulled back in a savage grin as he located the blue panel and punched in three seven seven zero. He turned away from the panels to look at the Tomb of the Hadenmen and cawed harshly with laughter as the ice melted and ran away, and light after light blazed in the cells of the giant honeycomb. He was still laughing when the cells opened, and the Hadenmen came forth in all their power and glory.