Authors: Margaret Weis
"This way,"
said Maigrey. She was cold, cold and colorless as the moon on which
they stood.
Brother Daniel
didn't argue. The plastisteel domes looked all the same to him. He
had no idea where they were.
The two walked
rapidly over the planet's gray surface, the rock crunching beneath
their boots. Brother Daniel kept nervous watch. They were out late,
too late. Although Hell's Outpost never slept, the inhabitants had
apparently taken their business and/or pleasure behind closed doors
and plastisteel walls. The streets—meandering paths winding
around the scattered domes that passed for streets—were almost
empty, except for a few dark and furtive figures, who kept closely to
the shadows.
Daniel thought
he saw one of these figures detach itself from a wall and fall into
step behind them. Coincidence, he told himself. Someone heading the
same direction we are.
The priest was
forced to quicken his pace to catch up with Maigrey, who was walking
rapidly, looking neither to her left nor her right, apparently
preoccupied by her own thoughts.
"My lady, I
think we're going the wrong way," said Brother Daniel.
"Keep
moving," Maigrey said softly, beneath her breath.
They were
surrounded by several domes, most of them dark and deserted. The
priest, glancing behind him out of the corner of his eye, caught a
glimpse of a shadow melting into the shadow of a building.
"No, no,
this is the right direction. I'm sure of it," Maigrey said
suddenly, loudly.
Daniel had no
idea what was going on. Fear's hard knot tightened inside him.
Maigrey glanced at him, her lips moved.
"Say
something," she mouthed. "Keep talking."
He wished
desperately he knew what was going on.
"I ... I
don't remember any of these buildings." He swallowed. "And,
look. You can see the dome wall from here. That isn't the air lock we
came in through. And there are no planes parked out beyond. We've . .
. come the wrong way, he repeated helplessly.
Maigrey came to
an abrupt stop. Daniel was three steps beyond her before he realized
it.
"So we
have," she said, and spinning on her heel, she launched off in a
different direction. "This is the way. I remember now."
Coming even with
her, Brother Daniel looked back over his shoulder. Their shadow had
also changed direction, was moving along after them.
"My lady,"
he said in a low voice, "I think we're being—"
The sound of a
scuffle came from behind them, a choking, agonized scream.
"Damn!"
Maigrey swore. Turning, she ran back down the street.
Bewildered,
Daniel hurried after.
Agis knelt over
the body of a woman, lying on the gray rock. Maigrey came up to him.
"Dead?"
she asked.
The centurion
rolled the woman's body over. Brother Daniel, looking down, looked
hurriedly away. He had seen death, had seen violent death, but never
anything quite as horrible as this. The woman's eyes were wide open,
stared up at them in sheer terror. Her mouth gaped open, her face was
contorted by what must have been unendurable pain.
Agis rose to his
feet.
"I'm sorry,
my lady. I tried to take her alive, as you commanded, but when I laid
my hand on her, she . . . she just screamed and clutched her head and
. . . dropped down."
"Was she
one of them?" asked Maigrey, regarding the corpse with a cool,
dispassionate gaze.
"I believe
so, my lady. I couldn't be certain. She was waiting outside the Cafe.
She picked up you and Brother Daniel there."
"Yes,"
said Maigrey. "I hadn't counted on our priest being such an
astute observer. He spotted her almost immediately, nearly gave us
away."
Daniel stared
down at the corpse.
"What
killed her, if Agis didn't?"
"Abdiel
killed her. Through her mind. God knows what horrible vision he made
the poor wretch see, what torment he inflicted on her at the end."
Daniel felt
suddenly sick and faint. He swayed where he stood.
"Take it
easy, Brother. Sit down. Put your head between your knees," Agis
advised, catching hold of the priest before he fell over.
"I'm sorry.
I don't know . . . what's the matter with me," Daniel gasped.
"I've seen men . . . blown apart ..."
"It hits
you like that sometimes," said Maigrey. "The stress,
tension. Take a few deep breaths."
She and Agis
turned back to study the body. "There's one way to find out for
certain."
Maigrey knelt
down, took hold of the dead hand, and turned the palm up to face the
light. Daniel leaned his head weakly against his knees, sucked air
into his lungs.
"That's
it," he heard her say softly, grimly. "She was one of the
mind-dead."
"An
amateurish job of tailing," Agis remarked.
"Or meant
to look that way." Maigrey stood up, glanced around. "She
was probably a decoy. Supposed to play games with us, keep us
entertained, while her two cohorts went about the real task. Brother
Daniel, do you feel up to walking? I doubt if anyone on Hell's
Outpost will get upset over a corpse in the street, but I'd rather
not have to answer any questions."
"I'm all
right," said Daniel, blushing, refusing Agis's proffered
assistance. "It's just that I feel . . . such a fool, my lady."
"Sorry we
couldn't let you in on our plans. It's not that we didn't trust you,
but the walls have ears, as the saying goes. And I'm sorry for what I
said to you back there, Brother," she added gently, laying her
hand on his arm. "I had to keep her from getting suspicious."
"I'm the
one who should apologize, my lady. I should have trusted you. I
should have known—"
"Don't
praise me too much, Brother Daniel," Maigrey said, harshly
cutting him off. "Let's get going."
"One moment
more, please, my lady." Brother Daniel leaned over the corpse.
Lifting the dead hand, he placed it on the woman's breast, laid her
other hand over it. Shutting the staring eyes, he murmured soft
words, ending with, " '
Exaudi orationem meam; ad te omnis
caro veniet.
Hear my prayer, to Thee all flesh must come.'
"She was,
after all, one of God's children," he said, rising, pale but
composed.
"Once she
was," said Maigrey. "But not now. Not when Abdiel was
finished with her. She's better off dead. Come on. We've got a long
night ahead of us. And I think
this
way," she said with a
grave smile for Brother Daniel, "is the right direction."
Agis kept close
watch behind, but they reached the air lock without incident and
without unwanted company. Putting on their spacesuits, retrieved from
a locker, they walked to the spaceplane in silence. Maigrey and the
centurion kept their hands on their weapons, looked sharply into the
dark shadows that stood out in clear-cut vivid contrast to the sun's
bright light, unfiltered by clouds or atmosphere. But as closely as
they watched, none of them saw the half-breed until he appeared right
in front of them, as if he had sprung up out of the gray rock.
"You do not
need your weapon. It is I, Starlady," said the assassin through
the speaker on his helmet.
"Don't do
that to me again!" she snapped, irritation concealing relief.
She held the
bloodsword; she'd drawn it the split second she'd caught a glimpse of
movement in the darkness beneath the belly of the spaceplane. But she
was acutely aware of the fact that if the assassin had been her foe,
she would more than likely be dead by now. "Next time, whistle
or something. I could have sliced you in two!"
"Yes,
lady-mine."
Maigrey guessed
he was probably laughing at her behind his helmet, but she was too
tired to care. And she still had the meeting with the cyborg to get
through.
"Well,"
she said wearily, "did you find the mind-dead? Where did they
go?"
"They come
here, lady-mine," said the assassin.
Maigrey looked
at her spaceplane, nodded. She wasn't surprised. "Where are they
now?"
Sparafucile
jerked a thumb. Maigrey saw a dark rift in the gray ground some
distance from the spaceplane. Walking over, she peered down into a
deep ravine. Light reflected off the shattered remains of two
helmets, a leg was twisted at an odd and impossible angle. The rest
of the bodies were hidden by the darkness.
The assassin
came to stand beside her. "They sit in Cafe until certain you
safe in private room. Then these two leave. A woman, she stay
behind."
"Yes,"
said Maigrey. "We ran into her."
Sparafucile
grunted. "I follow these two. They come here, to spaceplane, try
to break in but fail. One stand guard, the other crawl underneath. I
take out guard first, then go after the other. He have this in hand."
The assassin
pointed with a toe of his boot to a pile of rock dust on the lip of
the ravine. Maigrey, glancing at it, saw it was greenish in color, a
distinct contrast to the gray rock around it.
"Was that
the only one he planted?"
"I think
so. I search, find no more."
"Good. But,
still, we can't take the chance. Well meet with Xris on your plane.
It isn't likely they would know it, would they? Even if they knew
you?"
"No,
lady-mine."
Maigrey turned
away from the ravine abruptly.
It hits you like that sometimes
or so she'd told Brother Daniel.
God's children. She's better off
dead.
They're better off dead, down in that ravine.
We saw you,
Raoul had said.
You were preoccupied.
She remembered Abdiel in
her mind, remembered the terror, the loneliness, the horror. She
remembered the attic, the box of dreadful things. And he was in
there, within that box, baiting her, taunting her, hoping she would
turn her back, give in, relax. And then the box would slowly open and
then his hand would reach out, claim her, and drag her down. . . .
"My lady!"
Agis was beside her, concern echoing over the commlink. The assassin,
on her left. Brother Daniel hovering before her like some damn angel.
"Go!"
Maigrey ordered, waving her hands to dispel them, to shake them
loose, to banish them. "Go on ahead ... to the half-breed's
plane. I'll meet you there. Go!" she commanded angrily, seeing
them standing, staring at her.
They went.
Moving reluctantly, slowly, but they went.
Maigrey waited
until they had gone around the back end of the spaceplane, waited
until they were out of sight. She would have liked to have slumped
down, curled up in a ball, buried her head in her hands. But that was
impossible in a pressurized suit, helmet, gloves.
"It's low
blood sugar," she told herself, waiting for the dizziness to
pass. "I haven't eaten anything all day. Maybe longer than that.
I can't remember. And then two drinks on an empty stomach. No wonder
the only reason I'm standing is because these damn gravity boots
won't let me fall over. I'll be all right in a moment. Oxygen,"
she said, readjusting the valve on her suit. "I need more
oxygen."
She breathed
deeply, took firm hold of herself, and started on her way to the
assassin's spaceplane.
And all's fish,
that comes to my net.
Charles Dickens,
Bleak House
Inside the
half-breed's spaceplane, Maigrey removed her helm and breathing
apparatus and was immediately sorry she'd done so. The stench was
appalling, took her breath. She had to physically restrain herself
from putting her hand over her nose and mouth, fought back the
inclination to gag.
"This way
for'ard, lady-mine," said Sparafucile, offering a hand to assist
her.
His assistance
was not mere formality or politeness. It was impossible to move more
than a step or two into the bowels of the spaceplane (and "bowels"
seemed to Maigrey to be an extremely appropriate term) without
guidance.
The interior was
illuminated by a lambent red glow, shining from various dials and
instruments. The dim light gleamed off metal surfaces, showed up most
objects as eerie shadows. But Maigrey realized after a close,
accidental look at some of the objects that she should be thankful
she couldn't see the remainder.
The inside of
the volksrocket was like a refuse pit. No, she amended, moving
gingerly forward, clutching the half-breed's hand, "refuse"
implies unwanted bits of life that the owner has been too careless to
discard. Sparafucile wasn't careless or undisciplined. The jumble and
clutter that filled the half-breed's plane were parts of his life
that he was either unwilling or unable to leave behind.
She groped her
way forward. So much for dinner, she thought, her stomach turning at
the idea. The others, including the cyborg, were already here,
gathered together in one of the volksrocket's few cleared areas. And,
at that, it looked as if the half-breed had taken a bulldozer to it.
A wall, literally, of junk surrounded them. When anyone moved, bits
and pieces of the breed's collection slid off, clattered to the deck.
Maigrey took her
place near a pile of human skulls, tread on something that was soft
and squishy. She edged it aside with her boot, keeping her eyes
level, refusing to look down to see what it was. Or had been.
The half-breed
hunkered on the deck, resting on his haunches. The cyborg lounged
against one of the bulkheads, the red light reflecting off his metal
arm and leg. Agis stood in military posture, at ease, but alert,
tense. Brother Daniel perched uncomfortably and unhappily on a metal
box. Maigrey glanced at the box's label,, stenciled in Standard
Military, and wondered if the priest knew he was sitting on a supply
of concussion grenades.
"It's late.
I, for one, am tired," Maigrey began, her gaze encompassing all
those present. "I'll cut the preliminaries, get right to the
point, make this as brief and concise as possible. If you have any
questions, please ask them as we go along.