“Flynn; you’re telling me more about your home life than I really need to know. Go on; get out of here. Constance won’t want us to do any more filming until she and Robert have patched up their spat, and are ready to hold hands in public again. And given how stubborn both of them are, that could take some time. Security have set up yet another office for me, so at least I can get some editing done. I’ll call you if I need you.”
Flynn looked at him. “You know, it wouldn’t do you any harm to take a break too, Boss. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy and a real contender in the heart-attack-before-fifty stakes. Why don’t you pop round to your auntie Grace’s with a bunch of flowers and a winning smile, and see if Clarissa’s in? You know you’re sweet on her.”
Toby frowned. “Aunt Grace has made it clear I’m persona non grata at her house as long as I’m still covering politics. She think that as a Shreck I should be using my position to support the Families in general and the Shrecks in particular. I have to sneak calls to Clarissa when I can. And besides ... I’ve been collating info on this new nano plague, and I think I might just be on to something ... You nip off home, Flynn. See you tomorrow.”
Flynn gave up, nodded good-bye, and left. Toby gave the remains of his office one last look, shrugged, and went off in search of whatever tiny cubicle Security had found for him this time. It turned out to be a cramped room at the far end of the annex, that judging from its general atmosphere had probably been used for storing cleaning equipment. There was a strong smell of something not entirely unlike pine. The room was well away from everywhere else at all, on the grounds that nobody else wanted Toby anywhere near them anymore. Just in case. Even his own secretary only talked to him over the intercomm these days. Toby made his way through the gorgeously appointed corridors of Imperial News, carrying armloads of equipment and nodding to the people he passed. He tried not to notice how they all gave him plenty of room.
By the time he’d finished cramming editing equipment into the tiny room, there was only just enough space left for Toby and his swivel chair. He sighed, and resigned himself to slumming it for a while. Luckily, he’d brought along a few of the little necessities of life; a bottle of the very best whiskey, a box of the finest chocolates, and a dozen cigars with illegally high nicotine levels, all hand rolled on the luscious thighs of barely legal women. And two or three bottles of assorted uppers and downers and the occasional sideways bomber. Tools of the trade.
Toby had been quietly gathering information on the spreading nano plague for some time. It wasn’t easy. The moment the plague was detected, a full quarantine was imposed on the entire planet, and all further information came under a Need to Know basis. Which meant the bribes Toby had to pay were even higher than usual. At first the outbreaks appeared to have nothing in common, but Toby was convinced there had to be a pattern in there somewhere, perhaps even a trail that could be traced back to an initial outbreak. And no one was better than Toby Shreck when it came to putting two and two together and making seven. He kicked his computer terminal awake, and accessed the data he’d been compiling over the last few months. If anybody knew anything, or even suspected anything, about the nano outbreaks, he was sure he had it here somewhere, only a few keystrokes away. He took a good gulp of whiskey, used a second mouthful to wash down a couple of uppers, lit a cigar and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. The combined jolt hit his system like a wake-up call from God, and he dived into the info like a bloodhound hunting rats.
He plunged recklessly through the infostream, kicking his way through endlessly detailed reports, guided by instinct and years of experience. Patterns configured and flew apart as he tested them on the anvil of his logic, puffing at his cigar, his eyes darting from screen to screen around him. More whiskey, a few more pills, and whatever chocolates came first to hand. He was flying now, his thoughts darting faster than his fingers could call up the info. Minutes became hours, and he didn’t notice, jazzed to the breaking point and hurtling from theory to theory like a pinball with a flare up its ass.
There had to be a carrier. A single carrier, taking the nano plague from one outbreak to another. Unknown, undetected. Which, given the current level of war-status security on every planet these days, should have been impossible. Maybe the carrier was a Typhoid Mary, not actually ill themselves, but still contagious ... No, even then Security should have spotted something at the various starports. Unless the carrier had some way of circumventing starport security ... More whiskey, to wash down more chocolates. Light up another cigar and chew on the end. Get up and walk around and kick the furnishings, thinking, thinking. Back at the terminals, his fingertips ached from pounding the keys. Okay. Nano plague. Last known nano outbreak in the Empire was long ago, on Zero Zero. Quarantine there still unbroken. Look at the chronological order of the new outbreaks. Seven planets, widely spaced across the Empire, going down with the plague only days apart. No way one carrier could have traveled between them that quickly. Dead end.
But ... what if that was the trail? Ignore the travel time, put the outbreaks in chronological order, and you get a clear picture of the nano plague hopping its way from world to world, starting at the Rim and heading inward. Heading toward ... Golgotha? Homeworld? And which current Enemy of Humanity had recently been proved to possess teleportation? Shub. The rogue AIs of Shub. They could drop their carrier onto a planet, bypassing the starports and local security completely, and then teleport him offworld once his infectious job had been done ...
Toby sat back in his chair, suddenly very sober indeed despite the many substances racing through his bloodstream. The nano plague was a Shub weapon. Had to be. And everyone else was so occupied with fighting off Furies and Ghost Warriors and Grendels and the bloody Hadenmen, that they’d never noticed the real threat, the silent killer in their midst. That could come and go unseen, unnoticed, killing off a planet at a time. Toby chewed on his lower lip, his thoughts flying furiously. He couldn’t just broadcast this on the main evening news; there’d be mass panic. Paranoia. Rioting in the streets. And he’d end up watching it all on the communal holo set in whatever prison they finally locked him up in, for starting it all. But he couldn’t just sit on this. The people had a right to know the danger they were facing ... He was still struggling with that one when the door burst open to reveal a breathless Flynn.
“Toby! Why the hell did you turn your pager off? Everybody in Imperial News has been trying to contact you, and Security couldn’t remember where they’d put you!”
“Just as well. I didn’t want to be disturbed. I’ve been thinking. And what are you doing here? I thought you were safe at home, snuggling with Clarence?”
“I was. They called me back because I was the only one who might know where to find you!”
“All right, calm down. I’m sure Clarence will keep it warm for you. Now, what’s so important?”
“Jack Random’s announced that he has something Very Important to say. He’s going to make a speech at his place, in the Parliament building. He’s invited every mover and shaker there is, and said he plans to talk about what happened on Loki, the state of the Empire today, and what he plans to do about it. Imperial News wants us there right now.”
“Why us?” said Toby. “There are any number of reporters who could cover it.”
“Random invited us personally,” said Flynn. “Said we wouldn’t want to miss this for anything.”
“How long have we got?” said Toby, lurching to his feet.
“Maybe half an hour. I’ve got a flyer waiting downstairs, ready to go. Practically everyone Random invited is going to be there. Politicians, Families, everyone. This is going to be really big, Toby; I can feel it in my water.”
“Well try to hold on to your water till we get there. Jack Random is just the person I need to talk to. I’ve come across something big of my own, and he might be the only person who’ll know what to do for the best. Move it, Flynn. I’ve a nasty feeling time is running out for all of us.”
 
; Cardinal Brendan looked around Kit SummerIsle’s hotel room, and tried not to let his lip curl too obviously. The SummerIsle had only been living there a week or two, but the place was already a dump. Though given the hotel’s location, in one of the decidedly scummier parts of the city, presumably the room hadn’t had too far to go. The furnishings were basic, the color scheme was frankly depressing, and the single window was sealed shut to prevent the occupant doing a moonlit flit to avoid paying the bill. There were discarded dirty plates and half-finished meals everywhere, along with a number of empty bottles and glasses. And judging by the appalling state of the carpet, there had undoubtably been a number of spills of various kinds along the way. The bed the SummerIsle was lying on looked like it hadn’t been made since he moved in, and his swordbelt and holster hung openly on the headboard, ready for use at a moment’s notice. The door Brendan had just closed behind him was pitted with splintered holes, from where the SummerIsle had been practicing with his throwing knives.
There was an old dried blood stain on the carpet by the door. Perhaps someone had been foolish enough to come by and complain about the noise.
Brendan pulled up a chair, brushed it clean with a fastidious hand, and sat down facing the SummerIsle. He arranged his robes about him just so, and smiled brightly, concentrating on appearing perfectly calm and at ease. It was always important not to let Kid Death feel he had the upper hand, just because he was a cold, intimidating son of a bitch.
“So,” he said coolly, “may I take it the extended wake for David Deathstalker is now over, and you’re ready to do some serious work for us?”
“I’m always ready for a little serious work,” said Kit SummerIsle, ignoring the Cardinal to stare at the ceiling above him. “As long as it involves killing someone. And yes, the wake is over. It was important to give David a good send-off. He wanted so little, and was allowed none of it. Don’t get too comfortable sitting there, Cardinal. You were a part of the forces that brought him down.”
The Cardinal spread his hands. “Just business, I assure you. Nothing personal.”
“He was my friend.”
The SummerIsle’s eyes were dark and far away. Brendan knew most of the details of Kid Death’s extended wake. A lot of it had made the evening news, as he drank and brawled his way through an endless series of bars and drinking clubs. No one had tried to stop him, or arrest him, or even ask him to pay any of his bills. This was Kid Death, after all, the smiling assassin. Attracted by the prospect of free booze, there was never any shortage of people willing to drink and carouse with him, and if some of them said the wrong thing and ended up spitted on the SummerIsle’s blade, well, none of them were the kind of people who would be missed.
“Is the hotel to your satisfaction?” said Brendan. “We could supply more ... comfortable quarters, if you wish.”
“I like it fine here. The room service is first rate, since I killed a couple of the waiters for being slow. I’ve always liked hotels. People always at your beck and call, and never far from the next meal. All the comforts of home without the bother of having to maintain it. I never did gave a damn about the responsibilities of maintaining Tower SummerIsle. Cheerless bloody place; I sold it the moment I inherited it. Bit hard on the next generation of SummerIsles, I suppose, but then, what did they ever do for me? I didn’t even like the previous generation. That’s why I killed them all. What’s left of my Clan is pretty much dispersed these days. The name will probably die with me. Good to know I’ve achieved something worthwhile.” He looked directly at Brendan for the first time, and the Cardinal had to fight hard not to look away or flinch back in his chair. The SummerIsle smiled knowingly. “The wake is over, time to get back to work. I am a killer, and must go where the killing is. Many people have made themselves known to me, bidding for my services with all kinds of coin, but it seems to me that Clan Chojiro offer the most opportunities for me to employ my unique skills. I interrupted my wake to do you that small service on Loki; I trust you found my work there satisfactory?”
“Of course,” said Brendan. “You were everything we expected.”
“So; who do you want me to kill now?”
“The Maze people are becoming a major concern,” said Brendan carefully. “It may become necessary to remove them from the body politic. How would you feel about that?”
The SummerIsle stretched slowly, sensuously, as unself-conscious as a cat. “A challenge. A real challenge. I would enjoy killing Jack Random and Ruby Journey. I do hope Owen and Hazel aren’t dead. I always wanted a crack at Owen. I killed his father, you know. So I could be said to have started him on the path that made him what he was. Owen Deathstalker would be one hell of a challenge, a real test of my abilities. I put off challenging him while David was alive. Dear David secretly admired his cousin, and wanted to be just like him. That was part of what got him killed on Virimonde. Trying to be the hero, like his cousin Owen. I should enjoy gutting the legendary Deathstalker, and watching him crawl in his own blood before me.”
“We’ll worry about him as and when he turns up again,” said Brendan. “Clan Chojiro has more immediate concerns. Namely, Constance Wolfe and Robert Campbell. Robert has undergone Blue Block conditioning, and we hope to control the happy couple through him. But it is just possible he could break or subvert his conditioning, and if that happened, and he and Cather ine became ... impediments, it might be necessary for you to deal with them. You would not be able to take public credit for the kills, and they would have to be sufficiently bloody and unpleasant to discourage those who would take their place from being equally obstructive. How would you feel about that?”
“I’ve never killed a King or a Queen,” said Kit SummerIsle, almost lazily. “I came close with Lionstone, but she escaped me. I think I’m going to enjoy working with Clan Chojiro. You’re almost as unscrupulous as I am. And of course, in working for you I also work with Blue Block. Correct?” He smiled as the Cardinal stirred uneasily, and fixed him with his icy blue eyes for a long moment. “I never went through Blue Block; my Family didn’t trust them. What was it like, Brendan?”
“Trust me; you don’t want to know. It would give you nightmares.”
“I don’t have nightmares,” said Kid Death. “I give them.”
Jack Random agreed to give Toby and Flynn a short private interview before the big meeting. He didn’t say why, and Toby didn’t feel like asking. Real exclusives with Jack Random were as rare as hen’s teeth even at the best of times, and after his return from Loki he’d refused to speak to the media at all.
Random met with Toby and Flynn in a small side chamber with absolutely no fittings and furnishings. Toby was honestly baffled as to what function the room usually served. He’d heard that Random preferred to live in spartan surroundings, but there weren’t even any chairs to sit on. They had to do the whole interview standing up. Ruby Journey stood leaning against a wall, arms folded, glowering silently. It had quickly become clear that she didn’t know why Random had called his big meeting either, and was hoping to gain some clue from this interview. Toby checked with Flynn that all was well with the camera and lighting, did a few words for sound, and then turned to face Jack Random.
“So,” he said brightly, “who exactly have you invited to this special audience, Sir Random?”
“Everybody who is anybody, and a few who are anybody‘s, politically speaking. All the movers and shakers, the powers that be, and a few that think they ought to be. What happens at this meeting will change the shape of Imperial politics forever, and I didn’t want anyone to miss out. Not everyone saw fit to accept my invitation, but I’ll get round to them eventually too. As it is, more than enough are here to make this meeting worthwhile. There are Members of Parliament, representatives from the clone and esper undergrounds, and from most of the Families. All the people who help to make the Empire what it is today. I may not be the force I once was, but after Loki it appears everyone wants to hear what I have to say.”
“About Loki ... ,”
said Toby.
“I regret nothing. I did what was necessary.”
“And would that be the subject of your speech here today?”
“You could say that. I have returned to Golgotha to put an end to all corruption. To deal with all of those who sold out what we gained through the rebellion. I learned a valuable lesson on Loki. No more deals, no more compromises. I am back, and God help the guilty.”
For once, Toby actually found himself at a loss for words. It wasn’t so much what Random was saying, as the way he said it. Random’s smile was wide and cheerful, but his unblinking gaze was cold and almost threatening. There was a suppressed anger in the man’s body language, only just short of imminent rage, while his face glowed with purpose and resolve. He looked not unlike an Old Testament prophet who’d gone up the mountain for a personal chat with God, and come down again with a whole bunch of truths he hadn’t expected. Whatever epiphany Jack Random had undergone on Loki, it might have filled him with new energy and purpose, but it sure as hell didn’t seem to have done much for his peace of mind. And from some of the looks Ruby Journey was shooting Random’s way when she thought he wasn’t looking, it was clear she didn’t know quite what to make of his new self either. Toby just hoped Flynn was getting it all on film.
“Not everyone approves of what happened on Loki,” said Toby, very carefully. “Some have gone as far as to label your ... actions as atrocities.”
“They weren’t there,” said Random. “They didn’t see what I saw. The people of Vidar were betrayed by those placed in power over them. Men given those positions by people in power here, even though they were all convicted war criminals. I’ve spent my whole life fighting evil and political corruption, and helped throw down a whole way of life to get rid of it. Only to find it had crept back while I was distracted by deals and compromises. It’s clear to me now that it wasn’t just Lionstone who made the Empire what it was; it was the whole political system. Politicians, and the big institutions that support them, are the enemy. The Families, and all the lesser men they own and instruct. If there’s ever to be any justice, they must all be brought down. All of them.” Random stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I must become pure again. Pure in spirit and purpose. And nothing and no one will be allowed to stand in my way.”