"Hell," said Brett. "Maybe some kind soul has assassinated Finn bloody Durandal in our absence, and the whole nasty business is over. We could go home!"
"No," said Rose flatly, from her corner. "The Durandal wouldn't die that easily. And even if he were gone, Pure Humanity and the Church Militant would still go on. It is their time. The Empire is sick, and all the poisons must leak out."
"Don't you all just cringe, every time she opens her mouth?" said Jesamine.
Lewis looked at the viewscreen to avoid having to answer. "Jenny Psycho was very insistent we come here, to Shandrakor. Maybe she got here first, and… did some tidying up. Clearing the way for us. She was one of the most powerful uber-espers ever, back when she was alive."
"Death didn't seem to have slowed her down any," Jesamine admitted. "But what could the Standing hold, that we could need so badly?"
"Guns," said Brett. "Really big guns. Really appallingly big guns."
"Maybe information," said Lewis. "Jenny Psycho was right there on the Standing when Owen and Hazel went down to Haden and entered the Madness Maze for the last time. Perhaps the great old Standing of my Clan is the one place where true information might still be held about what really happened, back then, at the end."
"All right," said Brett. "If we have to do this, let's get down there, do the business, and get the hell offworld as fast as we can."
"Sounds like a plan to me," said Rose.
"Yes," said Lewis. "This world has never been a lucky place for my family. Take us down, Oz."
The ship's AI took them down slowly and carefully, checking constantly for traps and unpleasant surprises all the way down to the surface, but there was nothing. Lewis checked the instruments as well, but his eyes kept straying to the view of Shandrakor on the big screen. A steady tingle of excitement pulsed through him at the thought of being the first of his Clan to look on the original Standing in two hundred years. The ancient stone castle was a thing of legend, not history. The first Deathstalker, Giles, originator of the Family, had fled the old Empire in that castle, over a thousand years ago, before disappearing into the deadly jungles of Shandrakor; never to be seen again until the blessed Owen discovered the castle in the time of his own outlawing. The tangled tops of the jungle swept past beneath the Hereward as Oz headed for the exact coordinates provided by Lewis's father. Lewis's sense of awe became almost overpowering, not least because, deep down, where it mattered, he'd never felt like a real Deathstalker. The direct line of descent had been cut off two hun-dred years ago, with the deaths of David and Owen. King Robert and Queen Constance had granted the Family name to a line of distant cousins, to keep the celebrated name going. There was Deathstalker blood in Lewis, but he had to wonder if by now it was running thin. He looked down at the chunky black-gold ring on his hand, the sign and symbol of Clan authority. It had been Owen's ring once, long thought lost along with him, but a man who everyone said was dead had come to Douglas's Coronation, specifically to give the ring to Lewis. It felt very heavy on his hand. No one knew how old it was. Centuries, certainly—perhaps even from Giles's time. Family legend had it that the ring contained secrets, but no one knew what they might be anymore. And now here Lewis was, bringing the ring back to Shandrakor, a planet that seemed determined to weave itself into Deathstalker history again and again. A world so significant to Clan Deathstalker that they had taken its name as their battle cry for over a thousand years.
Lewis also remembered the fate of Owen's ship, the original Sunstrider, which crashed while trying to land in the Shandrakor jungles. Supposedly, bits of it were still scattered across the landscape somewhere. So Lewis made sure Oz took the Hereward down with all caution, and had the AI bring the ship to a halt hovering above the spiky canopy of the jungle. There was no clearing big enough to land the ship safely in, so Lewis used the Hereward's newly discovered weapons to make a clearing, with a little creative destruction. Trees and vegetation disappeared in the blast of searing energies, and soon enough the ship settled softly down onto steaming, new-baked earth. Lewis checked the sensors carefully, but though there was a lot of restless movement in the trees at the edge of the new clearing, nothing ventured out into the open.
"I'm getting multiple life-readings in every direction," Oz said conversationally. "Some of them so big they're off the scale. Plus lots and lots of general activity. If I'm interpreting the roars, howls, and screams correctly, I would venture an educated guess that every living thing in this jungle is currently busy trying to eat, screw, and kill every other living thing. Not necessarily in that order."
"I feel right at home," said Saturday. "Why aren't we disembarking yet?"
Brett sniffed. "I think you just answered your own question." He studied the clearing perimeter on the bridge viewscreen and scowled unhappily. "We are definitely not alone here, people; and the natives look extremely restless. Just how nasty is this place, really?"
"According to all the legends, Shandrakor could win prizes for nasty, along with honorable mentions for vicious, deadly, and downright alarming," said Lewis. "It was bad enough in the old days, when Owen and his people were forced to land here, but the current situation is actually even worse. Brett, try to stop that twitching, it's very off-putting. Some two hundred years ago, King Robert and Queen Constance found themselves in the unenviable position of having to clean up after the war's messes. There were a lot of monsters in the Empire in those days, running wild or locked away in hidden laboratories; the results of genetic tampering and experimentation by Lionstone's scientists, the rogue AIs of Shub, and even the Mater Mundi. Creatures too powerful and too disturbed ever to be integrated into civilization. All kinds of madness had been given shape and form, to be used as weapons, or as research. Terrible things had been birthed in those secret laboratories, and a whole lot of them were still alive when the fighting was finally over. What's the matter now, Brett?"
"Nothing," Brett said quickly. He locked his hands tightly together to stop them shaking, and did his best to get his breathing back under control. He was remembering his encounter with the Spider Harps, the centuries old uber-espers living their awful lives in their cold stone lair deep under the Parade of the Endless on Logres. He still had nightmares about them.
"Anyway," said Lewis, "these abominations of science had no place in the calm and civilized Golden Age Robert and Constance were so determined to build. The monsters couldn't be cured, so the Empire rounded them all up, brought them here, and dumped them, leaving them to fend for themselves. Just as Lionstone once abandoned her lepers on Lachrymae Christi. I suppose it was considered more merciful than just killing them all. So, God alone knows what horrors we'll find in the jungles of Shandrakor now, after the Empire's monsters have been interbreeding with the local creatures for two hundred years."
"Some of those monsters were human once," said Jesamine. "Weren't they?"
"Yes," said Lewis. "People captured by Shub and experimented on. Unfortunately, the AIs did their work so well that even after they had their epiphany and became Humanity's friends, they couldn't undo what they had done. Another reason perhaps why Robert and Constance didn't want them around."
"Do you suppose any of them are still alive, here?"
"I hope not," said Lewis. "If they weren't insane when they got here, they must be by now."
"I want to go home," said Brett.
"Don't be such a wimp," said Rose. "It's going to be danger and excitement and all the monsters we can kill. Who could ask for more? It's going to be fun, fun, fun."
Brett looked at her. "You're really not helping, Rose."
"And this is the place Jenny Psycho was so keen for us to come to," said Jesamine. "Are we sure she's on our side? A whole planet crawling with hideous monsters, quite possibly with grudges they've been nursing for centuries, and we're supposed to go walkabout looking for a castle that's probably just a pile of rubble…Maybe I should sit this one out. Someone ought to stay on board ship, in case of emergencies."
"If
you like…" said Lewis.
"No, I don't like! Of course I'm going with you! I don't trust you out of my sight, Deathstalker. No telling what trouble you'd get into without me there to watch over you. But I don't have to like it."
"My sentiments exactly," said Brett.
"Shut up, Brett," said Jesamine.
"All right," said Lewis. "Everyone grab whatever weapons you're most comfortable with, and gather at the airlock. Once we're out in the clearing, feel entirely free to shoot anything that moves that isn't us. We have no friends here. Rose, please don't smile like that. It's very Upsetting."
Oz opened the airlock, and Lewis was first out, as always. He hit the ground, gun and sword in hand, his personal force shield buzzing on his arm. He barely had time to look around before what seemed like the entire monster population of the planet came charging out of the jungle from all directions at once, heading straight for him. The air was full of furious roaring and screaming from wide mouths crammed with far too many teeth. Oz opened up with every weapon the Hereward had, blasting the creatures into meaty chunks before they'd got halfway across the clearing. The charge broke up immediately, the surviving creatures disappearing swiftly back into concealing jungle.
Interesting, thought Lewis. Intelligent behavior. Mindless animals would have just kept coming, not understanding the extent of the threat. And they certainly wouldn't have all retreated together. If they've learned to cooperate, we could be in really deep shit.
Lewis looked slowly around him as the rest of his people emerged from the airlock to join him. The whole jungle was suddenly very quiet, and Lewis could feel the pressure of watching eyes. The air was unpleasantly hot and humid, and stank of spilled blood and rotting meat. Gravity was a little lighter than standard, and the light was the color of blood. At the clearing perimeter, the dark-boled jungle trees were protected by rows of heavy spikes and barbs, and their long dangling branches were weighed down with clusters of thick pulpy leaves of a sickly purple-green. There were huge overripe flowers everywhere, blossoming in clouds of bright primal colors: solid yellows and blues and pinks. Gaudy, rather than attractive—but then Shandrakor wasn't a subtle planet. Insects buzzed noisily, thick clouds of them occasionally surging out of the trees and into the clearing. Some of the monsters had begun calling to each other again, a savage mixture of high-pitched cries, long sustained hootings, and grunts so deep Lewis could feel them in his bones. It sounded very much like they were talking to each other, and perhaps they were. Lewis just hoped they weren't discussing strategy.
"Ugly place," said Jesamine, standing beside him. "Seriously ugly, with a side order of revolting. What is that smell?"
"You don't want to know," said Lewis. "Turn on your force shield, Jes."
"They've stopped attacking."
"They could start again anytime. Do it for me, Jes."
"If it'll make you happy, darling…"
"I like this place," Saturday said happily. "It's like coming home. If only there were some mists, and a lot of mud and some half-eaten corpses lying around to play with, it would be perfect."
"Can I vote that the reptiloid not be allowed to speak again, ever?" said Brett. "This is a terrible place! It stinks. Literally. Damn it, the smell's so bad I can taste it! And it's hot. Again. How come we never go anywhere with air-conditioning?" He bent down to pick up a single leaf that had been carried into the clearing along with the attack, only to immediately swear loudly and throw it away again. "Bloody thing's got razor-sharp edges! It cut me! Oh, God, I'm going to develop some disgusting jungle disease, I just know it. Probably have all my extremities swell up and drop off. I think I'd better go back to the ship and have a little lie down, just in case. You can't be too careful…"
"Stand still, man," said Lewis, smiling in spite of himself. "How come it always happens to you, Brett? Look, from now on, don't touch anything. I know that goes against your nature, but do try."
"Don't see why you need me anyway," the con man said sullenly. 'There's nothing here to steal, and I do not do monster fighting."
"I want you around in case we have to crack some computers at the Standing," Lewis said patiently. "Jenny Psycho said there might be weapons and tech there we can use. Oz, have you been able to make contact with the Standing?"
"Not a thing yet," said the AI. "If the castle is here, it's really well shielded."
"All right, close the airlock and take the Hereward back up into orbit. Let me know the minute any other ships show up here. And be ready to swoop down and pick us up at a moment's notice."
"Understood," said the AI. "Have fun!"
The Hereward lifted smoothly into the air, and then shot up into the sky and was quickly lost to sight. Brett looked after it yearningly.
"How far is it to where the Standing crashed?" said Jesamine.
Lewis grimaced unhappily. "Well, now we come to Part Two of the bad news. According to the very exact coordinates supplied by my father, we should be standing right on top of it. But if it is here, I can't see any sign of it. Still, not to worry, it's always possible the data became corrupted, down the years."
"Oh, great," said Brett. "As if things weren't bad enough; we're lost too."
"Perhaps someone didn't trust your branch of the family enough to provide you with the true coordinates," said Rose.
"That's possible, yes," Lewis said easily. "But the truth is that no one actually saw where the Standing went down. All the people on board had been evacuated long before Jenny Psycho steered the castle into this planet's atmosphere. And she bailed out long before it hit. The exact landing site could only ever have been estimated. I understand there were plans once to come here and recover the castle, so it could be repaired and restored. There was a lot of public sentiment about the Standing, since it had played such a vital part in the last great battle. But my Clan insisted it should be left where it fell; returned at last to where the blessed Owen originally found it. Nobody made too much fuss. In fact, reading between the lines I get the impression Robert and Constance were glad to see the back of it. Partly because they wanted to make it into legend rather than history, and partly because it made them very nervous. The old Standing was said to be full of secrets that even Owen didn't know about. Very old, very powerful secrets."
"Are we talking treasure here?" said Brett. "As in, unknown tech, long-lost weapons, and the loot of ages—that sort of thing?"
"Yes, I thought that would perk you up," said Lewis. "It's possible, Brett, but even so I don't want you touching anything without checking with me first. Is that clear? According to family legend the Standing is absolutely packed with unpleasant surprises for the unwary."
"This just gets better and better, doesn't it?" Jesamine said to no one in particular. "Do we at least have a direction to head in, Lewis?"
"Oh sure. Oz detected faint but definite traces of a very unusual energy signature as we were coming in to land. Maybe two miles from here as the crow flies… that way."
"Oh, great," said Brett. "More walking."
"More fighting," said Saturday happily. "Two whole miles of assorted monsters. Just as well, I was starting to feel distinctly peckish."
Brett appealed to Lewis. "Can I just make the suggestion that when it's time to get the hell off this planet, we leave the big guy behind? He said himself he felt at home here."
"Let's make a start," said Lewis, not unsympathetically. "We've a lot of ground to cover, and you can bet these creatures are going to make us fight for every inch of it."
Brett sniffed. "We should have brought more grenades. I said we were going to need more grenades, but no one ever listens to me…"
"Shut up, Brett," said Jesamine.
They headed for the edge of the clearing, Lewis and Rose taking the point. Their personal force shields buzzed loudly in the quiet. Brett and Jesamine stuck in close behind them, while Saturday brought up the rear, to guard the party's back. He'd wanted to take the point, but Lewis said he thought it should be someone who was more
interested in strategy than dinner, and Saturday said he quite understood. There were restless movements in the trees ahead of them, huge shapes glimpsed briefly between the shadows, and the sound of heavy bodies crushing undergrowth. The whole jungle seemed expectant, anticipating blood and slaughter. Lewis gripped his sword fiercely. This wasn't going to be like fighting terrorists or assassins back on Logres. This was going to be butchery, plain and simple; men against monsters until one side or the other was no longer a threat. The monsters had size and numbers and animal ferocity. He had training, cold steel and an energy weapon. And he was a Deathstalker. That still counted for something.
His party had to pick its way past dozens of piled-up corpses as they crossed the clearing. The Hereward's weapons had done good work. The dead creatures varied in size from a few feet long to some specimens almost as big as the ship itself. Most of them were unpleasant or disturbing to look upon. There was every combination of fur and scale and exoskeleton, with misshapen heads and oversized limbs, and more and bigger claws and teeth than evolution would normally supply. These monstrosities had been designed to be killing machines, to strike terror into all who saw them. And once they'd been dumped here, the hothouse killing jungles of Shandrakor had seen to it that only the most savage, most deadly individuals survived. Most of the bodies had great holes in them, some had been torn apart. A few were still burning steadily. Insects had come out of the jungle to swarm around the steaming carcasses and the great pools of blood. They had bulging bodies and great gauzy wings and vicious stingers. A hell of a lot of them burned up against the party's force shields before the bugs learned to steer well clear of the party. They didn't bother Saturday, though occasionally he would snap one out of midair and chew on it thoughtfully.
The air was hot and heavy and full of the stench of death, and they were all sweating hard by the time they reached the edge of the clearing. Lewis stopped them there, and glared into the jungle. There was a fairly wide path of beaten earth leading off between the huge dark trees, disappearing into the jungle gloom after barely a dozen feet. It was all very quiet, very still, but Lewis could feel hostile presences all around, waiting for their prey to come to them. It was as though the whole jungle was holding its breath. Lewis hefted his sword and pointed his disrupter steadily ahead of him.