Deathstalker

  Some of Virgil III's people had progressed even beyond that. After the monsters came the next, and most feared, stage of the plague: meltdown. The body lost all shape and structure, collapsing into liquid, protoplasmic goo. There were whole cities now on abandoned worlds where nothing moved but great tides and rivers of accumulated slime; whole populations reduced to little more than massive amoebas.

  That was the new plague, the transformation disease, and its inevitable end. There was no cure, no idea as to its origin or nature or how it spread. The only effective answer was planetary quarantine. So far, seven planets had had to be abandoned to their fate. Volunteers had gone in to help, protected by impenetrable energy screens. Most went mad. The plague appeared spontaneously, with no obvious cause or carriers, and no clear link with any of the other affected planets. An unnatural disease, of tech run wild; nanotech. Individual machines the size of molecules, that could remake a living organism from within. The one technology too awful and too dangerous even for the old Empire to use.

  The viewscreen shut down, and the monsters thankfully disappeared. No one felt like saying anything. Some people were being sick. Random frowned.

  "There's no question this is nanotech?"

  "None," said Gutman.

  "Then the answer's obvious. Someone has to reopen Zero Zero."

  The people around him flinched back from the last two words as though he'd spat at them. Some made the sign of the cross. Zero Zero was the world used in the Empire's first tentative experiments with nanotech, hundreds of years earlier. It all went terribly wrong, terribly quickly. The nanotech somehow escaped the confines of the scientific Base, and ran wild. The whole population of colonists was wiped out, the entire natural order of the planet was transformed and violated in terrifying ways, and the last few scientists left in the Base, locked in their isolation chamber, died screaming for help that never came. Zero Zero was quarantined, and nanotech was banned. Officially. Random was one of the few people who knew Lionstone had briefly dabbled in nanotech, in an isolated lab on the planet Vodyanoi IV. The lab had self-destructed, under mysterious circumstances, and that put an end to that.

  Even Lionstone had enough sense to be afraid of nanotech.

  "Nanotech is forbidden," said Gutman slowly. "And with good reason. If what happened on Zero Zero had got offplanet…"

  "But it didn't. So its secrets should still be intact. If we want an answer to the nanotech plague, Zero Zero is the only place we might hope to find one."

  "Are you volunteering to go there, Sir Random?"

  "Hell, no. I'm not crazy. But I can think of one brave, honorable, and very dutiful Captain who might just be crazy enough to do it."

  "Of course," said Gutman. "The good Captain Silence. Currently on his way to the Darkvoid. He shouldn't be too upset by a chance to put that off by stopping somewhere else first. And the good captain has always been a most… dutiful man."

  "Not to mention expendable," said Random.

  "Best not to," agreed Gutman. He looked out at his audience, who by now were hanging on his every word. "Just to reassure everyone that the best scientific minds in the Empire haven't been entirely idle concerning this matter, I can also tell you they have established contact with a small scientific group on Wolf IV, a hellworld right out on the edge of the Rim. The hellsquad assigned to investigate this new world apparently discovered an ancient race of shape-changing aliens, whose nature might also be based around nanotech. Always best to have more than one iron in the fire… Now, let us move on to the next item on the agenda."

  "You mean that bit of paper in your hand, covered in your usual indecipherable scrawl?" said Random. "Since when did you start deciding the House's agenda?"

  "Ever since things got so busy around here that the House didn't have time," said Gutman tartly. "There is a war on, you now. Several wars, to be exact. We haven't all been hiding out on backwater planets."

  "Hiding out?" said Ruby dangerously.

  "The next item," said Gutman, "concerns the dragon's teeth; people who supposedly lost their minds in the computer Matrix, and now have only Shub's thoughts in their heads. An army of Shub spies, walking undetected among us."

  "There's no supposed about it," said Random.

  "There's been no actual evidence to support the theory yet."

  "Only because you won't allow the espers to run random tests on the population," said Ruby, just to show she was keeping up with the argument.

  "Would you let an esper scan your mind?" said Gutman.

  Ruby shrugged. "Wouldn't bother me. Of course, how they coped with what they found there would be their problem. My head's a weird place these days."

  "It always was," said Random generously.

  Ruby gave him a hard look. "Guess who's sleeping on the couch tonight?"

  "Esper scans are vital," said a new, harsh voice, and everyone turned to look. Most of them then wished they hadn't, as Diana Vertue strode through the packed House, the crowd falling back to open up a narrow aisle for her. It had been a while since the short, scowling blond woman had gone by the name Jenny Psycho, but enough of her old malevolent persona still crackled about her to push back even the most tightly packed crowd. No one wanted to get too close to a human time bomb. She came to a halt beside Random, gave him a quick nod, and then glared up at Gutman, who looked uneasy for the first time. Diana gave him her best disturbing smile.

  "Listen to me, fat man; it's essential this House authorizes the mass screening of the population by the esper fraternity, right damn now. There are too many people walking about who probably aren't people anymore. We're talking dragon's teeth, Ghost Warriors, Furies, and maybe even shape-changing aliens. Remember that crazy thing we discovered masquerading as human in Lionstone's Court? Just because we haven't heard from it since doesn't mean it isn't still out there somewhere, plotting mischief. Shub has remote control teleportation. It could have planted any number of disguised agents here on homeworld, and the only sure way we have of rooting them out is mind scanning. Set up booths in every city, and require people to walk past them twice a day. Computer records will spot anyone who tries to dodge. Of course, all private and public esp-blockers will have to be destroyed."

  "Oh, of course," said Gutman. "And that's what this is really all about. You want all esp-blockers to be destroyed, because they're the only defense normal people have against espers' invasion of their thoughts."

  "We want esp-blockers destroyed to free the living brains that power them," said Diana.

  "And so you espers can peep inside all our heads. See our personal thoughts and secrets. That kind of knowledge would give you one hell of a hold over the rest of us, wouldn't it?"

  "We wouldn't need to invade anyone's privacy, just to detect nonhuman thoughts."

  "We only have your word for that, esper. Information is currency right now. And we all have secrets we'd rather die than share."

  Diana Vertue didn't have to look around to hear the general murmur of agreement among the onlookers. She shrugged angrily. "We'll discuss this again, when everyone's feeling a little more rational."

  "Be a long wait," said Random.

  "Moving on," said Gutman, firmly, "we come to a rather delicate issue. This House refrained from discussing it until some of the Maze people had returned, because you were the only people with direct knowledge of the subject, but the situation is becoming increasingly pressing."

  Ruby looked at Random. "What the hell is he talking about?"

  "The end of everything," said Random. "He's talking about the Darkvoid Device."

  It was suddenly very quiet again in the House. Everyone was looking at Random and Ruby. Random could feel the pressure of their eyes on the back of his head. Even Diana Vertue was looking at him strangely.

  "Things are bad now," Random said carefully, "and I can understand the attraction of a superweapon that could end the war in a moment. But you'd have to be on the edge of actual extinction to seriously consider letting this genie out of its
bottle again. The last time the Device was activated, it put out a thousand suns in a moment. Billions of people died. Who gets to die this time, that the rest of us might live? Even assuming we knew how to operate the Device safely, which we don't."

  "But you know where it is," said Gutman, leaning forward for the first time.

  "Sort of," said Ruby reluctantly. "We know where it used to be, but there's no guarantee it's still there. And like Jack said, we don't know how to turn it on… or off. You want to risk destroying the whole of Humanity?"

  "We're already at risk," said Gutman.

  "Hold everything," said Random sharply. "Is that why you're sending Silence back into the Darkvoid? Because he's the only other person who's been to the Wolfling World? Have you sent him after the Darkvoid Device?"

  "Captain Silence has always understood his duty," said Gutman.

  "He doesn't know the nature of the Device," said Random. "Or how to find it. Or how to make it work."

  "The good captain has always been very resourceful. And he did pass part way through the Madness Maze, and survive."

  "I won't allow this," said Random flatly. "I didn't save the Empire from Lionstone, just to see Humanity destroyed by its own stupidity."

  "There you go again, Sir Random," said Gutman, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers across his extensive stomach. "Deciding you alone know what's best for Humanity. Parliament represents the people. We decide what is best, and what is necessary. Not an over-the-hill rebel who can no longer be trusted to act rationally. We all know what you did on Loki."

  "I hanged a bunch of people who needed hanging," said Random, grinning wolfishly. "They were all guilty. All dirty. All politicians."

  Everyone stirred uneasily at the dark venom in his voice, including Ruby Journey.

  "We're willing to listen to reason," said Gutman. "Convince us. Tell us about the Darkvoid Device. What it is, how it does what it does. Who knows: you might even bring us around to your position."

  "I can't," said Random.

  "Can't or won't?"

  Random shook his head. "Some things… you're better off not knowing. You're all just going to have to trust me on this."

  Whatever Gutman might have said to that was lost in the sudden blaring of alarm sirens. Everyone stared about them, thrown off balance. The general alarm was never sounded for anything less than imminent planet-wide peril. Or worse. A loud computer-generated voice said, Attention! Attention! Urgent information arriving! The great viewscreen lit up again, and a grim face stared out at the House.

  "This is Captain Xhang, of the Dreadstar, on patrol on the Rim, observing the Darkvoid. The Recreated are there. They're breaking out. We can't stop them; hell, they're smashing through us like we're not even here! I'm switching to exterior sensors, so you can see what we're seeing!"

  The Captain's desperate face vanished, replaced by Humanity's first view of the Recreated. Their ships were huge and awful, given a sense of scale by the tiny specks that were the patrolling Imperial ships. The Recreated's vessels made no sense, and it hurt to look at them, as though the ships existed in more than three dimensions at once. The ships were bigger than mountains, and there seemed no end to their numbers as they streamed implacably out of the Darkvoid, across the Rim and into Human space. The handful of Imperial ships were firing every gun they had, to no avail. The Empire ships were just ignored, like ants at the feet of conquering giants.

  Random suddenly became aware of energies spitting and crackling beside him, and a strong smell of ionized air, and a quiet voice said, "It's them. They're back." Random looked around, and there was Half A Man, staring with his one horrified eye at the ships on the viewscreen. The aliens who had abducted him, tortured him, and finally returned only half his body, bound eternally to a living energy construct for his other half; the aliens whose coming the Empire had feared for centuries; the aliens who would treat Humanity the way Humanity had always treated aliens; the great nightmare of all Humanity had finally come out of the endless night to destroy them all.

  A sound came out of the viewscreen, though they shouldn't have been able to hear anything. It was like a never-ending scream, an endless howl of agony and joy and horror, at a volume no human throat could produce, going on and on and on, long after human lungs would have collapsed. It was vile and horrible, a jagged, abrasive sound, almost too much to bear. People in the House put their hands over their ears, but couldn't shut it out. The few espers present were crying tears of blood. Diana Vertue was baring her teeth in a snarl that was pure Jenny Psycho. Jack Random clutched at his head as a fierce pain beat in his temples, as though his brain were trying to force its way out of his skull. Ruby Journey had her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth stretched in a cry of hate or pain or fear no one could hear. The sound from the screen grew louder, intolerably loud, the distilled essence of horror.

  On the viewscreen, the Imperial ships were exploding, one by one. The scene cut back to the Dreadstar's bridge, and Captain Xhang. Blood was coursing down his face, from where he'd torn out his own eyes. Behind him, his maddened crew were killing one another. Xhang was trying to say something, but he couldn't be heard over the endless, maddening howl. And then the viewscreen suddenly went blank, and the awful sound was shut off. People in the packed House began to cautiously lower their hands from their ears. Many were panting heavily, fighting for breath, as though they'd been fighting some physical enemy. Some had passed out. Some of the espers were dead. The computer voice said, Communication from the Rim has ceased. Contact cannot be established with any of the ships. Awaiting further instructions.

  "They're back," said Half A Man. "The Recreated have finally come out of the dark, to destroy us all."

  The House was quiet. No one knew what to say. Half A Man's alien abductors had been the nightmare boogey-man of all Humanity for centuries, only really half believed in, but still passed down from generation to generation as an awful warning. And now here they were, at last. As though the monsters from under a child's bed had waited till the child had grown up, and then come hammering on his front door. Even Jack Random and Ruby Journey were silent, their courage and confidence stripped away by long forgotten childhood fears. And then Elias Gutman stood up, and everyone turned to look at him.

  "General Beckett will undoubtedly be gathering together every ship he can, to face this new threat," Gutman said heavily. "I'm sure this House will wish to support him in every way possible." He looked around him, but still no one said anything. Gutman scowled. "We all knew the Recreated would make their appearance eventually. Their timing could have been better… but that's the way our luck's been going recently. So, Half A Man; you have the most experience with these… aliens. We will put a fast ship at your disposal immediately. I'm sure you'll wish to confer with General Beckett as soon as possible. With the two of you leading our forces against the Recreated…"

  "No," said Half A Man. "I'm not going."

  Everyone turned to look at him. He stared impassively back with his half a human face, his energy half spitting and crackling in the quiet.

  "But… your advice on dealing with these aliens will be invaluable," said Gutman. "You can do far more good with Beckett's Fleet than you can here."

  "I'm not going," said Half A Man. "There's no point. We can't beat them, we can't stop them, and there's nowhere we can run. There's nothing I or the Fleet can do to save you. Every species has to face its own extinction eventually."

  He turned and walked away, and for a long, long time after he left the House, no one had anything to say.

  Constance Wolfe and Robert Campbell were making plans for their forthcoming wedding. Or at least, Constance was. Robert had given up trying to keep track of events long ago, and now settled for standing around on the very edge of the organized chaos, drinking endless cups of tea, ready to offer help and advice on the few occasions when it might be required. Personally, he would have been quite happy to abdicate all authority on the matter to Constance, but she insisted hi
s opinions mattered to her, and wouldn't hear of him leaving it all to her. And besides, there was the media to consider. The ceremonial wedding of the first constitutional King and Queen to be had captured the public imagination and affection, and they were desperate for continuing coverage of the wedding couple and all the preparations. They wanted to see everything. And since Robert couldn't afford to be seen as the weak half of the happy couple, he had to be seen to be right there in the thick of things, participating in every decision. If only theoretically.

  Constance's suite at the top of Tower Wolfe was packed with people, coming and going and coming back again, all the while chattering constantly at the top of their voices. There were endless clothes to be designed and approved and fitted, flowers to be chosen and arranged, gifts to be examined and cooed over and stacked away (after being discreetly examined for bombs or other unpleasantnesses, because not everyone approved of the royal wedding, for a whole variety of reasons), and all the endless details of the great ceremony to be discussed and argued over at distracting length. There were courtiers and tradespeople and Family representatives from both sides, all of them buzzing around Constance like bees around a rare and precious bloom.