Deathstalker War d-3 Read online

  The other new arrival was the esper known as Jenny Psycho. She had forced her way onto the Mistworld team, on the grounds that a planet largely populated by runaway espers would want to meet the last person to manifest the uber-esper Mater Mundi, Our Mother Of All Souls, who had single-handedly made the great esper escape from Wormboy Hell possible. Jenny didn't look like much, at first glance. She was short and blond, with a pale ghostly face dominated by sharp blue eyes. She had a wide mouth, and an unsettling smile that showed more teeth than humor. Her voice was harsh and unattractive, her throat damaged by constant screaming in the dark cells of Silo Nine.

  Before the underground sent her into Wormboy Hell as their undercover agent, she'd been just another esper; but since the Mater Mundi touched her, Jenny Psycho had become a major esper power overnight. Her presence all but crackled on the air around her, an almost tangible effect on any company. Where once she'd been nothing but a minor telepath, now every esper ability was hers to call upon, something which was supposed to be impossible, though no one had even been stupid enough to say that to Jenny Psycho. Most people had enough sense not to get that close to her anyway.

  She respected Owen and Hazel for the power they'd brought to the rebellion, but since her personality could change from the relatively sane Jenny to the actually disturbing Psycho in mid-sentence, they'd found it hard to get to know her. They tried to make allowances. She had, after all, volunteered to be sent into Silo Nine, and Wormboy Hell was enough to break anyone. It helped that she didn't trust Young Jack either. Possibly because she didn't like the competition for attention.

  She paused for a moment in the doorway, to make sure everyone was looking at her, then flounced across the room to the only remaining empty chair and sank into it as if it were a throne. Young Jack Random stayed by the door, falling naturally into an heroic pose. Jenny ignored him magnificently. "How much longer till we get to Mistworld?" she said icily.

  "Now don't you start," said Owen. "Even with the new drive, it still takes time to get from one side of the Empire to the other."

  "Actually, we've been in orbit around Mistworld for almost twenty minutes," Ozymandius murmured in Owen's ear.

  "What?" said Owen, subvocalizing furiously. "Why didn't the ship's AI tell me?"

  "You didn't tell it to. It is, after all, nowhere near as complex as I."

  "Well, why didn't you tell me we'd arrived?"

  "Who, me? I'm dead, remember? Far be it from me to put myself in where I'm not wanted."

  Owen fought down a need to sigh heavily and looked at his fellow team members. "Apparently we are currently in orbit over our destination. So far, no one is shooting at us. Hazel, you know these people better than the rest of us. Patch into the comm system and find out what exorbitant price they're going to charge us for landing this time."

  She grunted unenthusiastically and got up out of her chair. It took her a while, and a certain amount of effort, because of the weight of all the guns she'd loaded herself down with. She made her way unhurriedly over to the comm panels and put in a call to Mistport Security. There was only one city and one starport on Mistworld, and that was Mistport. A wild and woolly place, and very definitely not somewhere you went without an invitation. As the Empire had found out, to its cost. As Hazel waited more or less patiently for someone to answer her, Owen looked around him, then stirred uncomfortably in his chair as he discovered that Jenny Psycho was studying him again. Her esp made her somewhat aware of the great changes that had taken place within Owen and Hazel, but it wasn't enough to tell her what those changes were. She sensed that, in their own ways, Owen and Hazel were just as powerful as she was, and she didn't seem able to make up her mind as to whether she should be frightened or awed or jealous. Owen had used that uncertainty to talk her into quietly probing Young Jack's mind, to see what was in there. To their mutual surprise, it turned out that as far as Jenny's esp was concerned, there was no one there. Which meant that either Jack had amazingly tough mental shields, or… So far they hadn't been able to come up with an or they liked. Owen looked away from Jenny's burning gaze. As if he didn't have enough things to worry about.

  "Hello, Sunstrider II," said a tired voice from the comm panels. "This is John Silver, head of starport Security. Don't adjust your equipment, we've lost visual again. When I find the pirate that sold us these systems, I'm going to tie his legs in a square knot. Welcome back, Hazel. Don't steal anything big and try not to kill anyone important this time. You can put your ship down anywhere you fancy; there's hardly anything on the pads. Not a lot of traffic comes our way these days."

  "Understood," said Hazel. "Cheer up, John, we've got a cargo bay crammed to the ceiling with really nice surprises for you; namely, more projectile weapons, ammo, and explosives than you can shake a really big stick at. Just the thing for expressing your displeasure with Imperial spies and troublemakers."

  "You always bring the nicest presents, Hazel. Now pardon me if I leave you all to your own devices. As head of Security, or what's left of it, I'm being run ragged at the moment. The precogs have been going crazy the last few days, insisting Something Bad is in the air. We can't get any details out of them that make sense, but either way I don't have the time to waste on a single ship, no matter how friendly."

  "In case he's forgotten," said Owen, "remind him we're not just outlaws on the run this time. We represent the Golgotha underground."

  "I heard that," said Silver. "Might have known you'd be aboard, Deathstalker. We haven't forgotten the mess you made on your last visit. Someone will meet you once you're down, but don't expect a brass band or the key to the city. We had to pawn the instruments and the key never did work anyway. Have a nice stay. Don't start anything. Now clear the channel so I can concentrate."

  "Is that a typical Mistworld welcome?" asked Jenny Psycho, after a moment.

  "Pretty much," said Hazel. "They've raised paranoia to a fine art in Mistport. With good reason. The Empire has a long history of sneaking in dirty tricks to try and undermine or destroy the starport. It wasn't that long ago they started an esper plague here, using a disguised vector called Typhoid Mary. A lot of people died before Security finally tracked her down. They're still recovering."

  "They've been through a lot," said Young Jack. "We'll just have to convince them of the importance of our various missions here. We must have Mistworld on our side if we're to win the rebellion. Their espers will be an invaluable asset."

  "Glad someone's keeping an eye on the big picture." said Owen. "But I would go easy on the exposition when you get down there. Mistworlders aren't big on speeches."

  "You should know," said Hazel.

  The landing pads were practically deserted, with only a handful of smugglers' ships, huddled together at one end of the field as though for comfort. The Sunstrider II settled comfortably onto the pad set aside, marked by flaring oil lamps. The tall steelglass control tower was the only sign of high tech at the starport, its bright electric lights blazing through the thick, swirling mists. Owen had the ship's computers shut down everything except the security systems, then led the way out of the ship and onto the landing field.

  The cold cut at them like a knife as they filed out of the airlock, searing their exposed faces and burning in their lungs as they all huddled in the thick furs the ship had provided. Owen beat his gloved hands together and glared about him. He'd forgotten how much he hated this place. And not just for the cold.

  The mists were at their thickest, in the early hours of the morning before the rising of Mistworld's pale sun. Beyond the control tower, the lights of the city showed only dimly through the shifting grey walls of fog. Young Jack Random looked calmly about him. He didn't even have the decency to shiver like the rest of them.

  "The old place hasn't changed a bit. Colder than a witch's tit and even less inviting."

  "And when were you last here?" said Hazel, not bothering to hide the suspicion in her voice.

  "I've been here several times, down the years," Rando
m said easily. "In fact, I started out here, some twenty years ago, trying to raise troops for a rebellion on Lyonesse. I found a few brave souls to join me, but that was all. They didn't know me then. Hopefully I'll do rather better this time."

  "Heads up," said Jenny Psycho. "Someone's coming. Three people. One's an esper, but his mind is closed to me."

  "Stay out of the other people's heads as well," said Hazel sharply. "This is an esper city, and they take their mental privacy very seriously. You upset the powers that be here, and we'll be taking what's left of you home in a straightjacket. From this point on, you use your esp by invitation only. Got it?"

  Jenny Psycho shrugged. "I can't help it if their minds are shouting at me all the time. And the powers that be here had better watch out for themselves. I have been transformed by the Mater Mundi, and there isn't a mind in this city that's my equal."

  "That settles it," said Hazel. "From now on, you stay well clear of the rest of us. That way whenever it happens, whatever horrible thing it turns out to be, we'll all be a safe distance away. Hiding."

  They were saved Jenny's acid reply by the sudden emergence of three figures from the shifting mists. There was no warning. One moment there was only the fog, and then two men and a woman came striding out of the mists toward them. Owen found that quietly disturbing. Usually his new powers gave him advance warning of things like that. Why, dammit, did it work sometimes and not others? He found his hand had dropped automatically to the sword at his side and quickly moved it away again. He recognized two of the newcomers from files he'd been shown at his last briefing. Port Director Gideon Steel was a short fat man with calm, thoughtful eyes and a disturbingly cynical smile. He dressed well, if a trifle sloppily, as some of his furs looked distinctly mangy. He was supposed to be in his mid-forties, but he looked ten years older. Trying to run Mistport will do that to you.

  The woman beside him was much more impressive, and not a little intimidating. Despite the bitter cold she wore no furs, only the formal uniform of an Investigator. Owen could feel Hazel tensing beside him and prayed she'd have enough sense not to start anything. Investigator Topaz was medium height, slim, handsome, and her gaze was colder than the mists could ever be. Her close-cropped dark hair gave her classical features a calm, aesthetic air, but her ice-blue eyes were killer's eyes. Just looking at her made Owen want to back away slowly and very carefully, doing absolutely nothing that might upset her. He knew about Investigator Topaz. Everyone did. She was a Siren, the only esper ever to be made an Investigator. When she decided to leave the Empire and head for Mistworld, the Empress sent a whole company of Guards after her. Five hundred men. Topaz killed them all with a single song, her voice and esp combining into a deadly force that could not be stopped or turned aside.

  In Mistport, she was officially just a Sergeant of the city Watch, but she kept her Investigator's title. Mostly because no one was stupid enough to argue the point with her. In a city full of dangerous and desperate people, no one messed with Investigator Topaz. Having met her, Owen could understand why. Without looking round, he could feel Hazel stirring at his side, like a junkyard dog scenting a rival, and Owen decided to get things started before they had a chance to get seriously out of hand.

  "Director Steel and Investigator Topaz," he said smoothly. "So good of you to come and meet us in person at such an early hour. May I present—"

  "We know who you are," said Steel. "And if you weren't official representatives of the Golgotha underground, you'd never have been allowed to land. You're troublemakers, and the last thing Mistport needs right now is more trouble. And for your information we haven't got up early; we haven't been to bed yet. Since Typhoid Mary and the esper plague, those of us who survived have been working double shifts just trying to get things back together again. And I haven't forgotten the mess you stirred up the last time you honored us with a visit, Deathstalker. I should bill you for the damage."

  "Given the size of the docking fees, I thought you already had," said Owen, completely unruffled.

  "And before you ask," said Hazel, "no, you don't get your usual unofficial ten percent cut of the cargo we're carrying. Feel free to argue the point. And I'll feel free to cut you off at the knees. Possibly quite literally."

  "Don't mind her," said Owen. "She's just being herself. If I might inquire, since we're so persona non grata, what brings you here at all? Politeness to the underground?"

  "No," said Topaz, her voice as cold as the grave. "We just wanted a look at the legendary Jack Random."

  Random flashed them his winning smile and bowed formally. "Delighted to make your acquaintances, Investigator and Director. Rest assured, I shall do everything in my power to see that our business is carried out quietly and quickly, with the minimum of disturbance to all concerned. But I make no secret of my intention to bring Mistworld into the underground, and the central path of the rebellion. You've been left alone in the cold too long. It's time for us all to stand together, and take the fight to the Empire."

  "Great," said Steel, entirely unmoved. "Another bloody hero. We get a lot through here. They come and they go, and nothing ever changes."

  "Ah," said Random, grinning broadly. "But they're not Jack Random."

  To Owen's surprise, Steel grinned back. Jenny Psycho stepped forward suddenly. "In case anyone's forgotten, I'm still here," she said loudly. "I represent the Mater Mundi, Our Mother of All Souls."

  "Congratulations," said Topaz. "You're the tenth this month. It's the most common confidence trick in Mistport. Probably because so many people are desperate to believe in it. If you weren't with Jack Random, I'd have you thrown in gaol on general principles. So keep your head down and don't make waves. Is that clear?"

  Jenny Psycho's eyes blazed suddenly with an inner light, shining from her face like spotlights. Loose energy sparked and crackled on the air around her, as her power stirred within her. Her presence beat on the air like the wings of a giant bird, forcing them all back. Something lived deep within Jenny Psycho, something vast and powerful and not necessarily human, and it was awakening. Gideon Steel drew a gun. Investigator Topaz opened her mouth to sing. And Owen and Hazel threw themselves on Jenny and wrestled her to the ground. Her power lashed out at them, only to be met and swept aside by a greater power, as yet unfocused and untrained, but still more than enough to silence a mere esper who had only been touched in passing by something greater. Her presence shattered like a smashed mirror and was gone. Owen and Hazel cut off their power, rolled Jenny over, and pressed her face against the harsh surface of the landing pad.

  Owen sat on her, just in case, and smiled up at Steel and Topaz.

  "Don't mind Jenny. She doesn't travel well. Once you get to know her, she's quite objectionable."

  Steel sniffed and put away his gun. Topaz scowled. "Something happened then," she said slowly. "I just caught the edges, but you two did something there. There's more to you than meets the eye, Deathstalker."

  "There would have to be," said Steel. "Welcome to Mistworld, people, and keep that esper on a short leash, or I'll have her muzzled. The man lurking in the background behind us, and carefully staying out of harm's way, is John Silver, our current head of starport Security. He'll look after you during your stay, and do his best to keep you out of trouble, if he ever wants to see his pension. Best of luck in your various missions, and if anything goes wrong I don't want to hear about it. Don't bother popping in to say good-bye before you leave. Now, if you'll excuse us, Topaz and I have work to do."

  And with that the two of them turned and walked away, disappearing back into the concealing fog. John Silver glared after them, made a rude noise and a ruder gesture, and strolled forward to introduce himself with an easy smile. "Don't take it personally; they're like that with everyone. Mostly with good reason, but that's Mistport for you. Hello, Hazel, good to you see again."

  "Good to see you, you old pirate," said Hazel, grinning, and stepped forward to hug Silver tightly. Owen was almost shocked. Hazel wasn't usually
a touchy-feely kind of person. He took the opportunity to study Mistport's head of Security. Silver was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp-edged youthful features, and wore thick, superbly cut furs topped with the scarlet cloak of the esper. He wore a simple short sword on his hip, in a well-worn leather scabbard, but Owen had no doubt the man also had a gun or two hidden under those furs somewhere. He looked the type. He also looked like he was enjoying the hug entirely too much. Silver and Hazel finally broke apart and stepped back to hold each other at arm's length.

  "Looking good, Hazel. Robbed anyone interesting recently?"

  "You'd be surprised. How the hell did a rogue like you get to be head of starport Security? That's like setting a starving wolf to guard a flock of sheep."

  Silver shrugged amiably, not insulted. "Even the fiercest wolf has to settle down and turn respectable eventually. We lost a lot of good people here during the esper plague, including most of my superiors. Typhoid Mary killed or brainburned them all in the space of a few days, and when she was finally taken down, I was the only one left standing. To everyone's surprise, including my own, I've been doing a good and mostly honest job ever since. Mostly because there's so much work to be done that I haven't the time or the energy to be crooked."

  "Never thought I'd hear you say that," said Hazel, laughing. She looked back, and realized Owen was studying them thoughtfully. "Owen, get up off Jenny and come and meet an old friend." Owen got up carefully. Jenny stayed where she was, breathing harshly. Hazel grinned. "Owen, allow me to present an old confidant of mine. Ex-pirate, confidence trickster, lawyer, and occasional female impersonator when money gets short. Generally a good comrade to have with you, on either side of the law. Particularly if you're working a swindle. Best innocent-faced liar I ever knew."

  "Which is why I'm so good at my present job," said Silver calmly. "Takes one liar to spot another. And I know all the tricks, because I've used most of them in my time."