Gregor sniffed. "It was your idea for us to get into bed with the Church in the first place. Can't say I've seen much in the way of results."
"With the Church behind us, we are safe from a great many other enemies," Toby said patiently. "But if the Church ever finds out about the real you, we could be in real trouble."
"Then, you'd better make damn sure they don't, hadn't you?" said Gregor.
"I do wish you two wouldn't fight," said Grace Shreck, knowing they wouldn't listen to her. They never did. She was Gregor's older sister and did her best to look as little like him as possible. She was long, tall, and thin, with a pale, swan-like neck, and a mass of white hair piled up on top of her head in a rather precarious-looking style that hadn't been fashionable in years. She wore the same style of clothes she had when she was young, and noticed newer styles only in order to criticize them. Every now and again, fashion rediscovered her look, and for a month or so she would be the height of fashion, which embarrassed her greatly. Grace preferred not to be noticed, whenever possible.
She'd never married, because after their parents had died suddenly, Gregor had needed her services as assistant, secretary, and general dogsbody while he was holding the Family together and making it great again. There'd been no time for romance, no chance for a life of her own. The Family needed her, Gregor needed her, and she'd had to settle for that. And if she was ever angry, she kept it to herself. Eventually, there came a time when Gregor didn't need her anymore, but she stayed with him anyway, because she didn't know any other kind of life. The world had changed during her enforced absence, and people frightened her, whether they meant to or nor. Besides, she'd always known Gregor would never let her go. He couldn't risk her marrying and moving outside the Family's influence, outside of his control. She knew too much about the Clan in general and him in particular. And the things he'd done to make the Shrecks great again.
She came to Court as little as possible, because crowds upset her; but the Empress's edict had been quite specific, for once. Everyone in the Families was to come. No exemptions. If you were on your deathbed, bring your deathbed with you. So Grace came on Gregor's arm, stayed close to Toby, and tried to pretend she was just watching it on the holo.
She disapproved of the way Gregor treated Toby, but didn't know what to do about it. Certainly, Gregor wouldn't listen to her, even if she could bring herself to say anything. Toby's father had been Christian Shreck, younger brother to herself and Gregor. He disappeared years ago, after a furious head-to-head with Gregor, and was never seen again. The Empress ordered an investigation, but nothing ever came of it. Gregor submitted to questioning by an Imperial esper and surprised everyone by passing the test with ease. He was officially cleared. But after that, people stopped resisting Gregor's rise to power.
Toby came under Gregor's influence the same way every Shreck did; because he had no choice. Toby had a sister once, but the Empress took her to be one of her maids, and that was that. Grace couldn't protect or advance him, so that just left Gregor. And so now the Shreck used Toby as he'd once used Grace, and there was nothing she could do about it. Another life sacrificed to Gregor's ambition. That was just the way things were in Clan Shreck.
Grace sighed tiredly. She missed Christian. He'd been the only one in the Family with a sense of humor. She realized Gregor was shouting at Toby again. Gregor was having a hard time being a public person. He wasn't suited to it. Grace looked at Gregor, red-faced and sweating as he raised his voice yet again, and suddenly it seemed to her that this was just the most recent in a long series of straws that broke the camel's back. She stepped forward and slapped Gregor smartly on the arm with her folded fan.
"Gregor, I won't have you using that kind of language in public! Remember, we are at Court. People are listening."
"And you can shut your stupid mouth as well," snapped Gregor without looking around. "When I want your opinion, I'll have my head examined."
"Really!" Grace could feel herself blushing, as she always did when someone spoke harshly to her. "Why can't we all just be friends, in public at least?"
"She's right, you know," said Toby diffidently. "The Church believes in happy Families."
"Stuff the Church," said Gregor immediately, but in a somewhat lower tone. "I have a right to be angry. I can't believe Valentine turned me down. It's so obviously in both our interests to work together against our common enemies, that even he should have been able to see the advantages. All right, he's a drug-soaked weirdo with no more common sense than a leper playing volleyball, but if we'd stood together, no one would have dared stand against us."
"Can't say I'm sorry," said Toby. "Valentine may be number one at the moment, but there's no one here who likes or trusts him, despite all the smiles in his direction. Putting a good PR shine on an alliance between you two would have really strained my creativity. You'd have a better chance of selling lepers' fingers as a fashion accessory. So what now, Uncle? Move to Plan B?"
"What's Plan B?" said Grace suspiciously. "No one's mentioned any Plan B to me. Honestly, Gregor, you never tell me anything anymore."
"That's because you don't need to know anything; just shut up and do as you're told. Stay here with Toby. Don't move. I'll take care of Plan B."
Gregor stalked away without looking back. He knew they wouldn't move without his permission. Plan B was the Chojiros. If the first Family wouldn't deal, there was always the chance the second might. He kicked his way through the deep snow, and people moved quickly to get out of his way. But he no more noticed that than the air that he breathed. He drew himself up before BB Chojiro, glared briefly at the Investigator beside her to show he wasn't intimidated, and then bowed briefly to BB. She bowed back, calm and assured. Razor ignored him.
"We have a common enemy in the Wolfes," Gregor said flatly. "May I suggest that it is in our interest to combine against Valentine? You produce the computers for his starships, and I make the shells; but as long as he controls production of the new stardrive, we have to run our businesses to suit him. With just the right pressure and timing, he could ruin either one of us, even drive us out of business completely, so he could move in and take over. I had planned to work with the Campbells, back when they looked to be in the lead for the stardrive contract. We had an understanding. That's why I permitted a linking marriage. But that fell through, and Valentine won't deal. I work under his conditions or I don't work at all. And that is completely unacceptable. So I need an ally to make sure I don't get squeezed out, and you need someone to watch your back while you work with him. We could both profit from such a union, and after all, neither of us has any cause to love Valentine."
"Both?" said BB. "I think not. All the profit would be on your side. We don't need you, Lord Shreck, and you have nothing we want. Yes, you build shells, but anyone can build shells. And to be honest, Lord Shreck, we're rather choosy about who we ally ourselves with."
"You little bitch," hissed Gregor, and before he really knew what he was doing, his hand was shooting out to grab her by the throat. He hadn't even got close before Investigator Razor's hand shot out to intercept his. Gregor's pudgy white hand disappeared entirely inside Razor's big black fist, and Gregor cried out as Razor clamped down hard, grinding the bones of Gregor's hand together. He let go after a long moment, and Gregor fell back a step, clutching his throbbing hand to his breast. BB Chojiro and her Investigator studied him with the same impersonal gaze as he stood before them, trembling with impotent rage.
"Turn around and go back to your own people, Shreck," said Razor calmly. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. "You have no business here."
Gregor glared at them both, searching for some final insult or threat that he could use to crush them, but in the end he had to turn silently and trudge back through the snow again. People moved even faster to get out of his way this time, giving him the same kind of respect one would a maddened scorpion that might strike out at anyone, just for being there. Gregor was actually thinking too hard to bothe
r about that. He had to find allies and support from somewhere, or he might easily find himself being edged out of the starship business altogether. Anyone could build shells… His alliance with the Church should bring long-term benefits, but right now he needed the money. He'd find someone. There was always someone. And when he was a power again in his own right, he'd make BB Chojiro pay for daring to humiliate him. He made himself breathe more slowly. There was still latitude with Clan Wolfe. Maybe Valentine wouldn't deal, but Daniel and Stephanie just might if approached in the right way. They might work with him just to spite their brother. Yes, that was an idea. He slowed his pace, and allowed himself a small smile. He would be strong again, and have his revenges upon his enemies, and no one would dare look down on him again.
Lionstone finally waved the people arguing before her to silence, and called the Court to order. Her amplified voice echoed across the arctic waste, cutting effortlessly through the courtiers' babble of voices. In a moment there was silence, broken only by the faint moaning of the bitter wind as the courtiers' attention fixed on their Empress. She smiled out over them, and it was not a pleasant smile. The courtiers stood still and quiet before her, snow settling on their heads and shoulders till they resembled the snowmen they'd passed earlier. A few people made the connection in their minds and shuddered suddenly, not at all from the cold. Lionstone glared down at Valentine and Beatrice until they got the message, bowed, and faded back into the crowd. General Beckett and Cardinal Kassar moved to stand on each side of the Iron Throne, staring out at the courtiers, representing army and Church, the arms of the Empress. Lionstone nodded to Beckett, and he raised his voice in a parade ground bark.
"Captain Silence, Investigator Frost, and Security Officer Stelmach; step forward and make your report on the alien attack!"
Stelmach jumped guiltily and then looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. Silence and Frost just strode forward, not looking around, until they stood at attention before the Iron Throne. Silence's face was calm, but there was new hope in his heart. This was what he'd hoped for; a chance to tell his side of the story before anyone else had a chance to muddy the waters. He waited a moment for Stelmach to join them and then realized the Security Officer had stopped on the edge of the crowd, his eyes fixed on the Grendel alien standing just before the Throne. Silence didn't blame him. The bloody thing disturbed the hell out of him, too. He reached back and pulled Stelmach forward to stand beside him. The Security Officer's eyes never left the alien. Silence glanced at Frost and wished he hadn't. The Investigator was staring at the alien hungrily, only a moment away from attacking the thing on general principles. Silence considered the matter, then reached out and pulled Frost back a step. The alien was the Empress's pet, and if by some miracle Frost actually did manage to kill the bloody thing, Lionstone would not be at all happy. Frost pulled her arm free immediately and glared at him, but stayed where she was. Silence decided to start his report before something unpleasant happened.
He kept it simple and succinct, but hit all the salient points. There was a lot of uneasy murmuring from the assembled Court as he described what he'd found in the wrecked Base on Gehenna. He told how the Dauntless tracked the alien ship to Golgotha, and then the murmurs got really loud when he described the alien craft's nature and capabilities and the life-forms he'd found inside it. He let Frost take over from there. She was the expert on aliens. Her report was cold, factual, even clinical, but Silence was shivering along with everyone else by the time she'd finished, and it didn't have a damn thing to do with the cold. After she'd finished, it was very quiet. The Empress nodded slowly and looked out over the Court again.
"Perhaps now you appreciate our position on the necessity for increased military spending. If one alien ship can do so much, what might a fleet accomplish? We have heard whispers of late of a proposed revolt against the new tax increases; let us make it clear that any such treachery will be put down harshly, with every resource at our disposal. In the current circumstances, refusal to support the military can only be seen as treason against humanity." General Beckett smiled, Cardinal Kassar did not. The Empress looked at Stelmach. "Do you have anything to add at this time?"
Stelmach swallowed hard, shook his head quickly, and finally managed a very quiet, "Not at this time, Your Majesty, no."
"Very well," said the Empress. "Guards, bring the prisoner forward."
The middle of the crowd quickly parted to form a narrow aisle through which two armed guards half led and half dragged a naked man through the deep snow. He wore only wrist and ankle chains, and some blood that had spattered down onto his chest from his recently broken nose. His skin was a bluish-white, and he shuddered uncontrollably in the biting cold. The guards threw him on his knees before the Iron Throne. He looked up at Lionstone pleadingly and tried to say something, but he was shaking so much he couldn't get the words out. Lionstone looked down at him thoughtfully.
"This pathetic object is Fredric Hill. Head of starport security here on Golgotha. We gave him the appointment ourselves. We thought he showed promise. This man let the rebels in, allowed them to sabotage the Tax and Tithe Headquarters, and failed to prevent them from lowering the planet's defenses as they escaped. He also failed to protect us from the alien ship. We could question him on this, but what's the point? He'd just nod and smile and agree with everything I said, and then try to pass the blame onto his staff, or hidden traitors, or lack of the right equipment. Anything but himself. After all, he'd say, the rebels arrived in a Hadenman ship. Probably half his people took one look at the great golden ship of awful legend and ran for their lives. And the other half probably followed them, once the alien ship swept past our nonexistent defenses to strafe the city.
"It doesn't make any difference. He was head of starport security, responsible for our defense. A strong man in that position might have accomplished much. He might have pulled enough of his people together to organize equipment repairs, bring secondary and backup systems on-line, send out rescue teams to aid the wounded and distressed in the city. Instead, according to his own security records, he dithered and fumbled and finally hid, reemerging only when it was all safely over. Quite unacceptable behavior from one of our officers. We have therefore decided that an example shall be made."
She looked back at the Grendel alien, and after a moment everyone else did, too. It stood calm and relaxed behind the Throne, a living nightmare in spiked crimson silicon armor. The yoke around its armored neck made a sudden polite chiming noise, and then the alien surged forward so quickly the human eye couldn't follow it. One moment it was standing just behind the Throne, and the next it was towering over the cringing security head, its great clawed hands on his bare shoulders. The courtiers nearest it surged back as far as the pressure of the crowd would allow, but the Grendel paid them no heed. Its claws sank deep into the man's flesh, and thick runnels of blood coursed down his colorless flesh. He opened his mouth to scream, and the alien opened its mouth and bit the man's face off. Skin and eyes and nose and mouth disappeared as the alien jerked back its great head, leaving only a shattered bloody skull, screaming horribly with the security man's voice.
The alien chewed and swallowed and then leaned forward again, thrusting its grinning jaws into the man's chest with brutal force. The sternum stove in, cracking like paper, and the Grendel alien's head burrowed in the man's chest, going after the heart like a pig hunting truffles. The man's arms waved wildly for a few moments, and then they fell to his sides and lay still. And Fredric Hill, once head of starport security, hung limply in the alien's grasp as it chewed thoughtfully, savoring the flavor. The yoke around its neck chimed, but the Grendel didn't respond. The yoke chimed again, and the Grendel dropped the body carelessly into the blood-soaked snow and moved unhurriedly back to resume its position just behind the Iron Throne. Steaming hot blood dripped thickly from its grinning jaws and ran slowly down its gleaming silicon armor. In the snow before the Throne, Hill's body lay in a crumpled heap, like a broken discar
ded toy that no one wanted to play with anymore.
Silence moved in close beside Frost. He could feel the anger boiling within her, ready to spill over at a moment's provocation. Her whole career had been built around killing aliens before they got the chance to kill people. He put a warning hand on her arm. It was as tense as coiled steel. She turned her head and gave him a hard look, and he took his hand away. Frost was an Investigator and had no time for human weaknesses like compassion. Her anger was purely professional.
The Court murmured among itself, looking from the Grendel to the gutted body and back again, impressed by the savagery of the kill, if not the quality of the control the Empress had over it. The many lessons involved in the man's death had not been missed by any of the courtiers. Silence shared a significant glance with Stelmach, but they both kept their peace. Those courtiers nearest the body looked down at the open wounds steaming in the chill air and tried to back away a little farther. But the crowd was packed in tight behind them, and there was nowhere for them to go. Nobody wanted to look at the alien. The Empress smiled at them all.
"Cute, isn't he? Table manners aren't up to much, but he's only young. Really little more than a baby. Imagine what he'll be like when he comes of age. Imagine an army of him, spilling across a battlefield like an endless wave of slaughter. Unstoppable shock troops, leaving nothing behind them but mountains of dead and oceans of blood. I'm quite looking forward to it. The work into controlling the Grendel aliens more perfectly is going well. Soon we'll have yokes for every Sleeper in the vaults, and then we'll send them out against the aliens who attacked us here today. Or anyone else who threatens us. Captain Silence, you haven't finished your report. Tell the Court what you discovered on the Wolfling World."
Deathstalker Rebellion Page 26
