What he did eventually find, in a locked box bearing the Deathstalker Family seal, concealed behind a secret panel in Dram’s bed, was a collection of holos, documents, and other papers from a forgotten age. Random broke the lock easily with his bare hands, and sat down on the bed, emptying out the box’s contents before him. He pawed slowly through the collection, and gradually assembled a history of sorts of the beginning of Clan Deathstalker. Much of it was handwritten, presumably by Dram. Random snorted. He would never have taken Dram for the sentimental sort. More likely he’d assembled these reminders of his past to refire his hatred. Selected memories of hate and betrayal, to remotivate him during the long wait for his father to reappear. Who else but a desperate and half-insane man would sleep for centuries, to awaken in a strange new world where everyone he knew was dust and less than dust, if not for hatred and revenge?

  Dram was his father’s son.

  There were a series of letters, to Dram, from himself, written down on paper because that was still the best way to preserve a secret; a single copy to which only you had access. The sheets were creased and crumpled, from much rereading. And a holo, to which Random’s eyes kept returning; a simple scene showing Giles Deathstalker in what appeared to be a family group. The woman at his side was presumably his wife; a tall, slender blonde dressed in flowing white. Her smile seemed forced, and she looked into the camera as though pleading for help or rescue. Beside her stood the man who would kill her; her son, Dram. He looked a little younger than Random remembered him, but just as intense, even then. They should have known there was something wrong with that one. It was in the eyes, and the smile that wasn’t a smile. But the one that really caught Random’s eye, and kept pulling it back, was the final Family member. A tiny baby, laid on a stool before them, wrapped in a very familiar cloak. Random had seen that baby, in that cloak bearing the Deathstalker Family crest, once before. On the Wolfing World, in the very center of the Madness Maze.

  At the time, Giles had said the baby was his clone, produced by him, and gifted with terrible powers. A baby who had put out a thousand suns in a moment, murdered billions of people, and created the Darkvoid. A baby supposedly destroyed when Captain Silence destroyed the Madness Maze, but Random wasn’t sure he’d ever really believed that.

  Random continued skimming through the letters, and slowly put together a picture of the truth. The truth Giles had kept from them, hidden behind a curtain of lies and half truths. The baby wasn’t a clone. It was Giles Deathstalker’s bastard son. Giles had had an affair with the then Emperor’s wife, the Empress Hermione. And somebody wasn’t as careful as they might have been, because the Empress became pregnant. The Emperor Ulric II just assumed it was his, but soon after the birth the truth came out. Giles snatched the baby, to protect it from the Emperor’s wrath, and went on the run with it. There was no legendary conflict between the two greatest men of their age; never had been. Just the rage of a cuckolded husband.

  Random and the others should have known Giles was lying. The baby couldn’t have been a clone. The science of cloning didn’t arise until centuries after Giles’s time. But the baby’s powers had so impressed them that the issuing of cloning had been taken for granted, another part of lost old Empire tech. Why had Giles lied? To protect his reputation, or that of his bastard child? Certainly the truth of the baby’s parentage had infuriated Dram. His letters became almost incoherent with rage on the subject. He fully expected to be passed over, disinherited, forgotten, in favor of this child of a Deathstalker and the Empress. He didn’t believe the child to have been an accident. Dram saw the baby as part of a plot to put the Deathstalker Family on the Throne.

  And maybe it had been. Certainly Giles had proven himself capable of such a thing.

  But if the baby wasn’t an experimental esper clone, as Giles had claimed, where had its powers come from? What had turned a baby only a few weeks old into the single most destructive force the Empire had ever known? Random worked his way through the rest of the letters, but found no answer. It was possible Dram had never known, and that was why he’d pursued his father to the Wolfing World. And died there, still unknowing.

  Random put aside the last of the papers, and shook his head. He’d come looking for answers, and found only more questions. And nothing he could use against his enemies. So he stood up, concentrated, called up the fire within him, and let it loose inside the crypt. Flames sprang up everywhere. The letters blackened, curled up, and were consumed, their ancient truths perhaps lost forever now. Enigmatic machines sparked and smoked and blew apart. An acrid black smoke began to fill the chamber. And then the tech maintaining the stasis field finally gave up its centuries-old ghost and blew apart, and the stasis field collapsed. Lionstone’s Palace immediately appeared outside the chamber, and Random ran out into the metal corridor, the thick black smoke billowing out after him.

  What have you done? said Lionstone’s voice loudly in his ears. Damn you, Jack Random, what have you done?

  “What I had to,” said Random, coughing at the black smoke. “We were never allies, Lionstone. I might be an outcast, I might even be crazy, but I’m not stupid. Better that it all vanish in the flames, than you should use Humanity’s lost tech against itself. How does it feel, knowing I used you for my own purposes?”

  You are more like us than you care to think, said Lionstone. And we will not risk you escaping. So prepare yourself, Jack Random. Company’s coming.

  A dozen Grendel aliens appeared out of nowhere in the metal corridor before Random; huge and terrible, scarlet as Satan, unstoppable killing machines. Random drew his sword and his gun and knew they weren’t going to be enough, even with his powers to back them. The Grendels turned their broad heart-shaped heads to look at him, grinning with their steel teeth, slowly flexing their metal claws. The black smoke drifted among them, curling around their spiked crimson armor, like demons newly escaped from Hell.

  Good-bye, Jack Random, said Lionstone’s voice. Have fun. When you’re dead, we will learn much from your body. Or whatever’s left of it.

  Random shot the nearest Grendel in the head. The energy beam ricocheted harmlessly away, and all the Grendels surged forward impossibly quickly. Random boosted, pushing his strength and speed to the limit, and went to meet them with his sword at the ready. They were much bigger than him, and stronger, and even in his boosted state it was all he could do to match their speed, but he was Jack Random, and he never backed down from a fight. Particularly when he had a blazing inferno behind him, and nowhere to run.

  He danced among them, evading their spiked and clawed hands, prizing at their exposed joints with the tip of his sword, and hacking at their necks with great, two-handed blows. Sometimes the scarlet armor cracked or splintered under the strength of his blows, but he didn’t seem to be hurting them, or even slowing them down. There wasn’t much room to fight in, and the Grendels constantly moved to keep him from getting past them, but Random made the most of the space, dodging and ducking, moving too quickly to be hit, never where they expected him to be.

  He stuck the barrel of his disrupter into a gaping steel-jawed mouth, and hit the stud. The energy beam blew the back of the Grendel’s head off. It fell clattering and twitching to the floor, and Random laughed harshly. His victory put new strength in his arms, and he fought on fiercely, cracking open the Grendels’ crimson armor again and again. No human could have done it, but Random hadn’t been human for a long time. He tried summoning up his fire again, but alone he couldn’t generate enough heat to really hurt the aliens. They responded with fierce crackling energy beams from their mouths and eyes. Random hit the floor, and the energy beams shot through the space where he’d been, striking down two of the aliens. They died, as they fought, in silence. Random scrambled to his feet, thinking perhaps he was still in with a chance after all, and then his spirits plummeted as three more Grendels were teleported in to replace those who had fallen. Shub had no intention of allowing Random to escape. He clutched his sword firmly anywa
y, and prepared to fight on, because that was what he did. Such a stupid way to die, after everything he’d been through, but then, he’d never expected to die in his sleep. Legends didn‘t, mostly.

  The Grendels hit him in a solid wave, and there were steel teeth and claws everywhere. Random was slammed back against the corridor wall, with no room to swing his sword. He fired his gun point-blank at a Grendel’s gut, and the energy beam punched right through the alien and out its back. The Grendel didn’t even flinch. An energy beam shot from its mouth. Random jerked his head aside at the last second, and the crackling energy seared away his right ear and set his hair on fire. Steel jaws slammed down and buried themselves in his left shoulder. Claws cut deeply into his flesh. Blood streamed down his body, and pooled on the floor at his feet. And still he went on fighting, struggling to use his sword, lashing out with his fist, forcing himself on despite the pain. Because that was what he did.

  And then Ruby Journey came sprinting down the metal corridor, sword and gun in hand, howling her war cry, and everything changed. The Grendels hesitated for a moment, caught between two forces, and that was all the time Random and Ruby needed to reach out and join their minds. They called up their fire, so much greater than anything they could manage alone, and together they filled the corridor with an unbearable heat. The Grendels sank to their knees, cooking inside their silicon shells, and finally fell forward and died. Random and Ruby shut down their flames, entirely untouched by the heat they’d produced, and looked grimly at the dozen steaming bodies before them. Random laughed harshly.

  “Send as many more as you like, Shub! How do you like your meat; rare or well done?”

  There was no reply, but no more Grendels appeared out of nowhere to replace those who had fallen. Random put away his gun, and then leaned on his sword for a moment, breathing heavily. His wounds stopped bleeding, and he put out his burning hair with a quick sweep of his hand. And finally, because he couldn’t put it off any longer, he looked at Ruby. Their eyes met for a long moment. Neither of them said anything, but their gaze was full of a long shared history. They didn’t put away their swords, but they could feel themselves dropping out of boost as their powers shut down. The Maze did not allow its paladins to fight each other.

  “You know; you’ve looked better,” said Ruby.

  “Nice of you to drop by,” said Random. “Just happen to be passing?”

  Ruby snorted. “Hardly. You set off all kinds of alarms when you arrived here. Parliament knew about this place, even if they couldn’t get in. When you turned up they had a collective shit fit, and sent me down here via the old service tunnels. Did you find anything useful in the crypt? You were in there for hours.”

  “Nothing useful,” said Random. “So; what do we do now?”

  “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” said Ruby. “We could fight, but what would be the point? Even without our powers, we’re pretty evenly matched. A straightforward one-on-one would probably just get us both killed. And there is ... another option.”

  “Is there, by God?” said Random. “I’m listening.”

  “A temporary Pardon,” said Ruby. “Diana Vertue has come up with a plan to take out Shub and its fleet. But to do it she has to get really close to the fleet as it approaches Golgotha. And I mean really close. That means she’s going to need all the help she can get. She’s going up against them in the old Deathstalker Standing, together with as many fighting ships as the Imperial Fleet can spare. And she asked for us particularly, to give her an edge. Parliament is just desperate enough to go along with that. So; you agree to help Diana, and the hunt will be called off until all the various wars are over. As long as you agree to stop killing their people for the duration. It’s as good a deal as you’re going to get, Jack.”

  “A chance to take out Shub.” Random frowned. “About the only thing left that would still tempt me. Can I trust Parliament?”

  Ruby shrugged. “Probably not. But they’ll leave you alone as long as you’re fighting Humanity’s enemies. They need you, and they know it.”

  “Any idea what Diana’s got planned?”

  “Not a clue. She won’t talk. Says the element of surprise is vital. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s more paranoid than you. But she is being very persuasive.”

  “What about Owen and Hazel?” said Random, still frowning.

  “‘They’re still heading back to the Wolfing World. It’s us, or no one.”

  “Then I guess it’s us. I’m glad they’re not dead. I wish ... I could have talked with them. Made them understand why I did what I did.”

  “Why not start with me? I’m as much in the dark as anyone else.”

  “Of course. You never did understand about honor or duty.”

  Ruby sniffed. “If that is what they do to you, I think I’m better off not knowing.”

  “Where do we stand, Ruby?” Random said carefully. “You took a commission to track me down and kill me.”

  “It can wait, till the wars are over,” said Ruby. “I’m in no hurry to kill you, Jack.”

  They put away their swords and walked off down the corridor together, out of the thick black smoke, leaving the dead Grendels behind them. The interior of Dram’s crypt was an inferno now. Nothing useful would ever be retrieved from it.

  “So,” said Random. “Could you really ever have brought yourself to kill me?”

  “Of course,” said Ruby. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

  Not too much later, Jack Random was standing beside Diana Vertue, in the great Hall of the Last Standing. It was a massive place of ancient stonework and soaring columns, with a ceiling so far overhead it was lost in the gloom. The Hall was lit by hundreds of ever-burning candles, in gorgeously styled candlesticks and candelabras, somehow endlessly renewing themselves, lending the atmosphere a cozy golden glow of age and security. The chairs and tables were antiques of almost impossible rarity and value, and yet the great viewscreen hanging on the air before Diana was at least the equal of anything the Empire could produce today. Built in the last days of the old Empire, Giles Deathstalker’s castle was also a massive starship, full of wonders and enigmas and forgotten lore, powered by marvelous engines and protected by impenetrable force shields.

  Diana Vertue was currently in charge, her orders carried out by a crew of one hundred and twenty volunteers from the Imperial Fleet, and a small army of the castle’s silent mechanical drones. The volunteers were currently manning the fire controls, gun ports, and other defensive stations too important to be trusted to the castle’s computers. They had to be volunteers. Even Diana Vertue had to admit there was a good chance no one on board the Last Standing would survive the coming conflict.

  Meanwhile, the service drones oversaw the running of the castle’s countless maintenance systems, just as they had for over nine hundred years. Silent, self-renewing, endlessly obedient, many of the drones were humanoid in shape; stylized metal figures tip-tapping down the stone corridors as they went about their business. Random avoided them wherever possible. They gave him the creeps. No one had built robots in human shape since the days of the AI rebellion.

  He made himself concentrate on the drink in his hand. One of the advantages of a recent mapping of the castle had been the surprise discovery of a quite extraordinary wine cellar. Some of the wines laid down there were so ancient now as to be works of art rather than mere beverages. The bad news was that the castle’s food synthesizers still refused to deliver up anything but bog-standard protein cubes. Random didn’t even want to think what they’d been recycled from.

  Even though they were rapidly closing with a Shub fleet that would in all probability reduce the ancient and powerful castle to so much ancient and powerful rubble, Random’s thoughts persisted on pondering what he was going to do after the battle. He knew better than to trust the word of Kings or Parliaments. He’d help defeat Shub, if that was possible, and then disappear again. Maybe with Ruby, if he could just persuade her to the justice of his cause. He
sighed quietly. It was unlikely. But he could always hope.

  Ruby was currently sprawled in a more than comfortable chair by the huge open fire, half-dozing like a cat, lulled by the crackling of the flames in the great stone fireplace. But for all her apparent ease, her hands were still resting near her weapons, and Random knew she would be on her feet and ready to fight the moment the Shub fleet was sighted. She was just killing time, until she could kill something for real. Random often suspected that all of life’s comforts were nothing more to her than distractions, a way of passing the time until she could do again what she was born to do, and feel really alive. There were times when Random felt that way too.

  He studied Diana Vertue as she addressed Captain Eden Cross of the Excalibur on the great floating viewscreen. The Captain was new to his ship, and to his position as head of the seven ships accompanying the Last Standing. His dark face seemed calm enough, and his voice was relaxed and even, but his tension was clear to Random’s experienced eyes. Diana, on the other hand, seemed older and more sure of herself. She spoke soothingly to Cross, supportive without being patronizing. And not a glimpse of Jenny Psycho anywhere. Random approved. Jenny was one of the few people who could still make him nervous.

  “We should make contact with the Shub fleet in just under an hour,” said Cross. “Isn’t there anything you can tell me about this marvelous plan of yours, Vertue? A lot of lives are riding on it, both here and back on Golgotha. If we fail ...”

  “We won‘t,” said Diana. “Have a little faith, Captain. My plan is dependent on the element of surprise. And what you don’t know ... I’m sure you can fill in the rest. Let me know when the Shub fleet comes into sensor range. Until then, Vertue out.”