“You don’t approve, do you?” said Midnight suddenly. “I can tell.”
“Our lives . . . have followed very different paths,” said Owen. “God knows I’ve done enough shameful things in my time. I don’t judge anyone anymore. I don’t have the right.”
Midnight withdrew her arm from his. “You’re not my Owen. He always judged, sorting the guilty from the innocent. And he was always right. There’s no room for indecision in a warrior, no place for shades of gray on a battlefield. No room for weaknesses in a love like ours.”
She increased her pace and walked on alone. After a while Bonnie Bedlam strode past Owen to join her fellow alternate, pausing only to drop Owen a wink as she passed. Owen managed a small smile. Hazel moved up alongside him.
“That is one dangerous woman,” said Owen, staring at Midnight’s armored back.
“You should try talking to Bonnie for a while,” said Hazel. “She scares the crap out of me.”
“I can’t believe the sheer amount of metal she’s got stuck through her skin,” said Owen. “I mean, some of those had to really hurt. There are probably augmented men with less steel in their bodies. And she says her Owen did it too!”
“She also says she’s married to you.”
Owen shivered. “I’d be better off with a Grendel. And I don’t know what you’re smiling at. She is just another version of you, after all.”
Hazel shrugged. “No doubt there’s also some other me happily married with six kids, and never wields anything more dangerous than a butter knife. Now, that’s scary. But it doesn’t bother me. I know who I am.”
“But they’re both pretty . . . extreme,” said Owen. “Can we trust them? Can we rely on them?”
“You got me,” said Hazel. “But if push comes to shove here, we’re going to need them. Besides, they know we know this universe better than they do. I think they’ll take their lead from us. If we do have to go head to head with the Hadenmen, I’d back both of them against pretty high odds.” She grinned slyly at Owen. “I think that Midnight fancies you.”
“No,” said Owen. “The man she loved was nothing like me. Nothing.”
There was a new coldness in his voice that persuaded Hazel not to continue that line of conversation, and they walked on for a while in silence. The streets remained empty, with no sign anywhere of man or Hadenman. Their footsteps echoed flatly back from the surrounding buildings, eerily loud in the quiet. Hazel got bored walking with Owen, who was too busy brooding to do more than grunt in response to her conversational sal-lies, and in the end she moved up to walk with her two alternates. The three of them were soon chatting busily away, ignoring Owen completely as they disagreed over practically everything. Owen wasn’t surprised. That was Hazel for you. He knew he should warn the three women to keep their voices down, but he also knew they’d just tell him to go to hell, so he saved his breath. They’d been walking for some time now, and his feet were beginning to take notice and protest.
He carefully avoided getting drawn into the arguments himself. He was quite happy being ignored. He didn’t like the possessive way the two alternates looked at him, or the way Hazel grinned when she noticed it. In their different ways, both Bonnie and Midnight fascinated him, much in the same way traffic accidents fascinate onlookers. And just as he was thinking that, Bonnie casually drew a spray hypo from her belt, stuck it against the side of her neck, and injected herself with the contents, all without slowing her pace in the slightest. She gave a low moan of pleasure, and her back straightened with an audible snap. Owen hurried up to walk alongside her. She was grinning that disturbing smile again, all narrow black lips and pointed teeth.
“What was that? ” Owen said sharply.
“Just a little something to take the edge off, and put the bounce back in my step. Care for a taste?”
“No,” said Owen. “Look, we are in a very dangerous situation—”
“Oh, loosen up, stud. I’m so sharp you could use me to cut corners. If I was any more alert, I’d be seeing tomorrow.”
“Drugs are the bane of the warrior,” said Midnight stiffly. “True strength comes from the spirit.”
“Whatever gets you through the dark, darling.”
“Was that . . . Blood?” said Hazel.
“Hell, no. I’ve moved way beyond that. Owen showed me the way. My Owen. He was never afraid to try anything new. Anything that might give him an edge. Between us we’ve tried practically every battle drug going, and every chemical that might help us expand our Maze-boosted minds. There’s nothing like expanding your personal universe and clearing out the cluttered parts of your brain. I’ve illuminated parts of my mind that most people don’t even know they’ve got. If you listen carefully, some days you can hear my synapses frying. It was the Maze that started it. The biggest rush of all. Never found anything to equal it. But I keep looking. Drugs, battle, a little private sex and suffering; it’s all a rush.”
“You sound just like Valentine Wolfe,” said Hazel.
“The Emperor?” said Bonnie. “My hero.”
Hazel looked sharply at Owen, but he didn’t respond.
The streets of Brahmin City slowly began to change, as Hadenman additions finally began to appear. Human buildings had been removed from the city streets like rotten teeth yanked from the socket, and replaced by sharp new edifices of steel and tech. None of them felt like talking anymore, and they all carried their weapons in their hands. There was still no one to be seen, and the only sounds in the ominous quiet were their own footsteps.
The city became increasingly disturbing. The new elements had not been designed with human logic or comforts in mind. There were strange angles and unnerving shapes. Gleaming and brilliant, they glowed silver from within, setting up echoes in the mind, pushing thoughts in directions the human mind wasn’t meant to go. There were still no Hadenmen anywhere. It was like walking through a city of alien dead, or alien dreaming. The light from the shining artifacts was subtly cold on their skin, like the caresses of passing ghosts.
Owen kept glaring about him. He had no doubt they were being watched. He could feel the pressure of coldly observing eyes. His head hurt. His fingers tingled uncomfortably. Somewhere far away he could hear a low, continuous thudding, like a single working machine, or perhaps the great artificial heart of this inhuman city. The air seemed to be gusting steadily back and forth, as though the streets were breathing. Owen began to wonder if perhaps they were walking through a single living organism, a city awoken into an artificial life and sentience. The Hadenmen were quite capable of such a thing. But then, where were all the people who used to live here when it was just a city?
Bonnie Bedlam turned suddenly and fired her disrupter, the energy beam blowing apart a glazed silver node halfway up a building on their left. Gleaming fragments fell like metal snowflakes, and the sound of the explosion seemed to echo on forever. Owen and the others looked quickly about them, weapons at the ready, but nothing was moving anywhere. Owen glared at Bonnie.
“What the hell was
that
for?”
“I didn’t like the way that building was looking at me,” said Bonnie calmly.
Owen struggled to hold on to his temper. “Well, if the Hadenmen didn’t know we were here before, they sure as hell do now!”
“You’re welcome,” said Bonnie.
“Uh, Owen,” said Hazel quietly. “I think we can definitely assume they know exactly where we are.”
Owen looked around to discover a small army of Hadenmen had appeared out of nowhere, in utter silence, and now surrounded them on all sides. Owen decided he was going to stand very still and hoped the others had the sense to do the same. There had to be a least a hundred of the augmented men, tall and perfect and standing utterly still with poised, inhuman grace. None of them were carrying obvious weapons. They didn’t need any. They were weapons. Their faces were completely expressionless, though their eyes burned with a golden glare, as though small nuclear fires burned in each eyeball. Owen looked at Hazel, and they both pointed their guns at the ground, just so there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding. Bonnie was looking a bit restless, so Midnight gripped her right arm firmly with one hand, just in case. For a long moment the humans and the Hadenmen just stood and looked at each other, the Hadenmen augmented by human tech, the others enlarged by the alien tech of the Madness Maze. None of them strictly human anymore.
Owen thought furiously. This was exactly the kind of confrontation he’d hoped to avoid by sneaking into the city by the sewers. But Owen still had hopes of negotiating some kind of deal. Even after all he’d seen of the Hadenmen’s past atrocities, he still believed in talking rather than fighting whenever possible. He had to. It was either that, or give in to the way of the warrior, to blood and fury and the beast. And Owen had seen enough death and destruction in his life. He looked cautiously for someone who looked like a leader or spokesperson, and then tensed as one of the augmented men suddenly stepped forward.
“Hello, Owen,” said the Hadenman in a harsh, buzzing voice. “Remember me?”
“My God,” said Owen slowly. “Moon? Is that you?”
“Yes,” said Tobias Moon. “Your old companion. They rebuilt me after I was destroyed by the Grendel on lost Haden. Hello, Hazel.”
“It’s been a while, Moon,” said Hazel. She holstered her gun and held out a hand for him to shake. After a moment Moon took her hand in his and shook it carefully, mindful of his greater strength. The Hadenman’s hand was cold as a corpse, and Hazel let go as soon as she diplomatically could. Owen studied Moon carefully, and he stared impassively back with his glowing eyes. Owen shook his head slowly.
“They did a hell of a job on you, Moon. I can’t see a join anywhere. I mean, that Grendel ripped your head right off.”
“I remember,” said Moon. “I was there.” He looked at Hazel.
“I remember you coming to see me in the city we built on lost Haden.” He looked back at Owen. “You never came to see me, Owen.”
“I thought you were dead,” said Owen. “And when I did finally find out . . . there were so many things I had to do . . .”
“I understand. I am, after all, not the Tobias Moon you knew. This is his body, repaired and raised to full Hadenman functioning, and I have full access to all his memories, but I am not him. It is just as well. He had spent too long away from his own kind. He had become too human.”
“So I was right,” said Owen. “My old companion really is dead, after all. I’ve lost another friend. You’d think I’d be used to that by now. But it doesn’t matter. So, what happens now, Moon?”
“That’s rather up to you, Owen. You should have let us know you were coming. We would have prepared a reception for you.”
“Yeah,” growled Hazel. “I’ll bet you would have.”
“Please, put your weapons away,” said Moon calmly. “You are in no danger. The Redeemer and his companions are always welcome among the Hadenmen.”
Owen looked at the others, shrugged, and put his gun and sword away. After a long moment Hazel sheathed her sword, and Bonnie and Midnight followed her example. Bonnie studied the Hadenmen with open curiosity, and they looked back with equal interest. Presumably they’d never seen anything quite like each other before. Midnight folded her muscular arms across her chest and looked bored, now there was no longer any hope of a little action. Owen looked around him, taking in the blank watching faces of the augmented men. They had a disturbing similarity, as though the same thoughts moved behind different faces. The Hadenmen were perfect in shape and form, but it was not a human perfection. Their bodies were largely machine, their minds boosted by computer implants, their only aim and purpose the perfectability of all Humanity through technology. And if they had lost human attributes along the way, like emotions and conscience and individuality, that was a price the Hadenmen had always been willing to pay.
“We should have known Moon would show up again,” Oz murmured in Owen’s ear. “You can’t trust a Hadenman in anything, even to stay dead. Now he’s just another of the pale harlequins, with the mark of Cain upon his brow. Watch your back, Owen.”
Owen frowned. The AI’s words seemed to stir a memory in him, of something he’d heard in a prophecy from a precog on Mistworld. For a moment he seemed on the brink of understanding something important, but Moon was indicating politely that they should start moving, and Owen let the thought go as he concentrated on the matter at hand. He still had hopes he could talk the Hadenmen into giving up their captives and working with Humanity rather than against them. Together, the two branches of Humanity might be capable of far more than they could ever hope to achieve separately. And the Hadenmen must have learned something from their total defeat in their last Crusade against the Empire. Surely a people so proud of their logic wouldn’t make the same mistake twice?
Moon led the four humans down the street, and the rest of the Hadenmen fell in behind them, all of them walking in perfect step. Owen hoped Hazel and her alternates would continue to take their lead from him and not start anything. With luck, he could get some useful information out of Moon before they got to wherever they were going. Which was probably a good place to start.
“So,” he said casually, “where are we going, Moon?”
“To the heart of the city,” said the Hadenman in his rasping, buzzing voice. “There is so much we wish to show you, Redeemer. Much that you have made possible.”
“We were allies in the rebellion. Why have you turned against Humanity now?”
“We follow our programming. The imperatives of the Genetic Church. The perfectability of mankind. We bring the gift of transformation for everyone.”
“What if everyone doesn’t want it?”
“Such a response is clearly illogical and is therefore ignored. We do as we must. What is necessary.”
It seemed Moon was right when he claimed to have none of his old personality. These responses could have come from any augmented man. Tobias Moon had been different. He’d spent much of his life among humans, absorbing human characteristics despite himself. He’d always said he wanted nothing more than to be among his own people, a Hadenman among Hadenmen, but even then he hadn’t been sure whether they’d accept him as he was, as he’d become. In the end, he’d died before Owen could open their Tomb. He’d never seen the second coming of the Hadenmen. Now here he was, living as he’d always wanted, and unable to appreciate it because Hadenmen didn’t have feelings like that. Owen felt obscurely angry.