“Now try saying it like you mean it.”
“Right now I’m just trying to keep us all alive,” said Owen quietly. “I really don’t fancy our chances here. Maybe we could take them, maybe not. I don’t want to find out we can’t the hard way.”
Hazel glanced around her and shrugged uneasily. “I still think we could trash their metallic asses if we had to, but I am definitely in favor of trying every other option first. Keep pressing Moon; I think you’re getting to him. His last few responses were almost human. Stay cool, Owen. Stay on top of things. I can tell how hard this is for you.”
“Is it that obvious?” said Owen. “How much I want to tear this place down? What’s happening here is vile, inhuman, utterly evil. It’s everything we fought against in the Empire. But the bottom line is we can’t risk dying here. At least one of us must get away to warn Humanity.”
“Understood,” said Hazel. “And no, it’s not obvious. But the others don’t know you like I do. All this reminds you of Charnel House, doesn’t it? Of what was done to your people on Virimonde.”
“Yes. But this is different. Most of these poor bastards are still alive, even if they are in Hell. So I have to come up with a scheme that not only takes out the Hadenmen, but will also free the captives. And since schemes aren’t necessarily what I do best . . .”
“You’ll think of something, scholar. Just tell me when I can start hitting things. Which is very definitely what I do best.”
Owen’s mouth twitched for the first time in something like a smile. “You and both your alternates. I guess some things never change.”
“You wouldn’t have let them kill Bonnie, would you?”
“Of course not. But I couldn’t let her commit us all to a fight at this time. Moon and his people were just waiting for a chance to show us who was really in charge here. Hopefully, they’ll cut us a little slack now.”
“So, what is the plan now?”
“Keep our eyes and ears open and look for a chance. We still need to learn as much as possible about what they’re up to.”
“They’re a bunch of evil, sadistic bastards. What more do we need to know?”
“How far along the line they are in producing the next generation of Hadenmen. We need to know exactly what the new models can do, how many they have here on Brahmin, and how many more might be hiding out in other bases, on other worlds. Finding that information, and getting it back to the Empire, is more important than our need for vengeance.”
Hazel looked at him steadily. “And more important than our lives?”
“Maybe. In many ways everything that’s happening here is my fault. And my Family’s. I have a duty to do everything I can to stop this.”
“Don’t worry,” said Hazel. “The minute we’ve learned everything we need to know, this whole filthy business is shutting down. Whatever it takes.”
“Remember the hostages,” said Owen. “We can’t just abandon them.”
Hazel looked around the laboratory. “After everything they’ve been through, death might be the only kindness we could do them.”
“Maybe. But we have to try. It’s the human thing to do.”
“Interesting,” said Moon suddenly. “You’ve both been talking animatedly for some time, but I couldn’t hear a word of it. Even with my enhanced hearing. And you weren’t using your comm implants, or I would have picked it up. Did the Maze make you telepathic or something?”
“Something,” said Owen. “Very definitely something. All of us who passed through the Maze have a mental link, a closeness. If you’d stayed with us, you’d have it to. Now back off.”
Moon nodded. “Feel free to make any threats or declarations of defiance you feel necessary for your peace of mind.”
“You betrayed me. All of you. I didn’t release you from your Tomb for this.”
“Your reasons for opening the Tomb are irrelevant,” said Moon calmly. “Their freedom was inevitable. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been some other member of your Family. David perhaps.”
“Interesting,” said Hazel. “You’ve started saying
they
instead of
we
. Can it be you aren’t entirely in sympathy with what’s going on here?”
“I believe the human expression
clutching at straws
is appropriate here,” said Moon. “Follow me.”
“Of course,” said Owen. “There are always more circles to Hell, aren’t there?”
They went up to the next level, and another laboratory, this time silent as the grave. Endless rows of men and women sat unmoving in tiny cubicles, eyes closed, faces utterly immobile. Holes had been drilled in the backs of their heads, and coils of metal cables linked their heads to unseen machinery. After the horrors of the previous laboratory, the new one seemed practically serene. Owen distrusted it on sight. He looked at Moon.
“We’re testing for esp,” said Moon. “Barely known during the first Crusade, it has now spread throughout Humanity. Esp fascinates the Hadenmen—a form of power and control not derived from technology, but from the unknown depths of the unaugmented mind. The Hadenmen want it for themselves. So they are currently seeking to map all physical changes in the brain tissues of all those showing some form of esp ability. Logically speaking, esp is a puzzle. It has no obvious power source, yet is capable of achieving things the Hadenmen cannot duplicate even with their vast knowledge of tech. So they are currently stimulating all areas of the subjects’ brains to destruction, and observing in the hope they will learn something useful.”
“Torturing them till they die of it,” said Bonnie. “Bastards.”
Midnight glared at Owen but said nothing.
“You don’t approve of this either, do you, Moon?” said Owen.
“My approval is irrelevant,” said Moon. “The Hadenmen do what is necessary to follow their destiny. No individual belief can be allowed to interfere with that.”
“You’re weakening, Moon,” said Hazel. “Any minute now you’ll forget yourself and venture an opinion of your own.”
“I am a Hadenman,” said Moon. “Whatever I might have been in the past, I am now a fully functioning Hadenman. That is all that matters. The Tobias Moon you knew is dead. I am merely a reinvigorated body with access to the original Moon’s memories. Nothing more. Come. There is still much for you to see.”
“I don’t think so,” said Owen. “I’m much more interested in talking with you. Let’s try a few straightforward questions and answers, shall we?”
“If you wish. You are the Redeemer. We will hide nothing from you.”
“And knock off the Redeemer crap. I’m a Deathstalker, and that has always been another name for honor, despite what some members may have done to smear it by working with you. I want answers, and you’re going to give them to me. What’s going on in the other labs?”
“We are investigating current technology and extrapolating from it,” said Moon, somewhat less agitated now they were on safer ground. “Science has moved on while we were away. While we still remain in the forefront in most areas, there is still much that can be learned. Cloning is new to us. Once understood and mastered, the population of this planet can be cloned many times over to provide basic stock from which new Hadenmen can be produced. They will be the next generation of Hadenmen, greater than before. Invulnerable in battle, genetically superior, their triumph will be inevitable. The Second Crusade will convert all Humanity, and the Hadenman empire will be strong, efficient, invincible. This is necessary. We have many enemies. The AIs of Shub have refused all offers of cooperation or allegiance. They say they don’t need the Hadenmen. That we are only flesh with delusions of grandeur. Shub therefore remains an enemy and a danger. And then there are the aliens. Unknown. Powerful. Dangerous. Humanity must become more than it is if it is to survive these threats.”
“Damn,” said Midnight Blue. “Once you get him started, there’s no stopping him, is there?”
“Give me ten minutes alone with him, and I’ll stop him,” growled Bonnie. All her wounds had healed, and her scowl was something to behold. “How much more of this crap do we have to listen to, Deathstalker? My Owen would have—”
“Your Owen isn’t here,” snapped Owen. “And even if he was, he probably wouldn’t have done any better than you against the Hadenmen. Now hush. I know what I’m doing.” He turned back to Moon. “Very nice speech, Moon. I’m sure you said it just the way you were programmed to. But you must see how illogical your position is. You can’t hope to win. You’ve got one planet, a handful of ships, and you already admitted you’re years behind everyone else’s tech. You’re outnumbered, outclassed, and everybody hates you. You can’t win.”
“The Empire is weak, divided,” said Moon. “You saw to that. Our golden ships decimated the Imperial Fleet during the rebellion. Your remaining armies are tired, and spread over too many fronts. What better time to strike? Especially as we have new, less obvious weapons to wield. We have the only existing remains of the adjusted men, the Wampyr. While there is no point in re-creating what were essentially only inferior versions of ourselves, we have used their remains to produce an inexhaustible supply of the drug known as Blood. We have been supplying the Empire with this drug, through a series of middle men, for some time now. Now there are addicts everywhere, dependent on us for their next fix. Who’ll do anything we require of them rather than risk being cut off. Some of them in very high positions. You’d recognize the names. They will be our sixth column, our secret army, our private traitors at the heart of your government, sowing chaos and confusion as we require. Just like you, Hazel, when I supplied you with Blood back on lost Haden.”
“I never betrayed my own kind!” said Hazel.
“But you would have if we’d asked you to,” said Moon. “Wouldn’t you?”
Hazel glared hotly at him and then looked away. Owen put a comforting hand on her arm. Moon turned his attention back to Owen. “You see, Deathstalker? Answers bring no aid. Truth brings no comfort. Humanity is the past. Hadenmen are the future. They have named you Redeemer. Speak for them. Be their advocate to the Empire. Convince the Empire to embrace the future, not fear it. The Empire can be made strong again, to face its many enemies. Humanity must surrender to us for the greater good. Evolution cannot be denied. Speak for us, Deathstalker. Be the herald of the future that destiny always intended.”
“No,” said Owen. “You’re not Humanity’s destiny. You’re a mistake, an offshoot, a path that should never have been taken. Humanity lies in the heart, in the soul, in all the imponderable things that tech can never measure. You’re no better than Shub. I’ll never serve you. Never.”
“You will,” said Moon. “You have no choice in the matter. You and your companions are our prisoners, as was always intended. The Hadenmen have need of the secrets within you, the power you gained from the Madness Maze. Our scientists on Haden have been trying to recreate the Maze, but so far with no success. The one being who might have told us anything, the Wolfling, cannot be found. So you and your companions are the only hope we have of understanding what the Maze did and how it did it. That’s the only reason we allowed you to enter this city. We brought you here, into the heart of our operations, so that you could be taken captive with the minimum of effort. There’s no point in fighting now, Owen. You are surrounded by hundreds of Hadenmen, and we have observed that even your miraculous powers have limits.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” said Hazel. “You’d be surprised what we can do when we have to.”
“That’s precisely why we want you,” said Moon, unmoved by the threat in her voice. “Your abilities fascinate us. The Maze produced the original Hadenmen, but we had no idea it could produce miracle-workers. It is the nature of Hadenmen to seek perfection, and it is unacceptable that you should possess powers that we do not. So we will study you, discover the source of your miracles, and take it for ourselves. We will build a new Madness Maze, and all the Hadenmen shall pass through it. Then let Humanity tremble, for from that moment their days are numbered. And all of this because of you, Owen Deathstalker.”
“You say you’re going to study us,” said Owen. “Would you care to be a little more specific? ”
“We will examine, test, and finally dissect you,” said Moon. “Discover all your secrets and limits, and then reduce you to your smallest components. Nothing will be overlooked. Nothing will be left undone.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” said Owen. “You have to take us first. And you’ve never seen what we can do when it comes to a fight.”
“There will be no fighting,” said Moon. “You will follow our every instruction, Owen. Even turn on your friends if we find it necessary. You are ours. We own you.”
“What the hell is he talking about, Owen?” murmured Hazel.
“No one owns me,” said Owen.
“You gave yourself over to us,” said Moon calmly. “When you accepted our golden hand.”
Owen looked down at his left hand. His artificial hand. He’d lost the original fighting the Grendel alien on Haden. To save his life the Hadenmen had grafted on an artificial hand. A wondrous thing of pure gold, that obeyed his every thought. And if it always felt subtly cold, and not entirely his, that was a small price to pay for such a technological wonder. He lifted the hand before his face and flexed the golden fingers. Almost a work of art. He lowered the hand again and looked back at Moon. “Never trust a gift from strangers. What have you done to me, you bastards?”
“Bound you to us. The hand has spread golden filaments throughout your body, infiltrating every part of you, including your brain. We now control you from within. You belong to us now, Owen. In truth, you always did.”
“My brain?” said Owen. “You’ve been stirring your metal fingers in my brain? Interfering with my thoughts, influencing my decisions? What have you made me do? How much of what I’ve become is down to you?”
“You’ll never know,” said Moon.
It seemed to Owen that his artificial hand felt very cold. He curled the fingers into a fist, searching for any feeling of resistance on their part. He glared at Moon. “You said I was your Redeemer. When I released you from your Tomb, you swore to follow me.”