Random put his back against a metal stalactite and held his ground as Edge hammered at him with his sword. Random dodged the blows he could and parried those he couldn't, content to let the Investigator tire himself out. Except that Edge didn't get tired. Instead, the Investigator's strength seemed to grow with every blow as his fury grew with every failed attack. His mouth was stretched in a mirthless smile, and his eyes were dark and wild. Random ducked deep to avoid a double-handed swing, and Edge's blade sheared clean through the tip of the metal stalactite behind him. It came to Random that fighting defensively against an Investigator was a good way to get yourself killed. Maze-improved or not.
He boosted, feeling the blood hammer through his veins and thunder in his head, and launched himself at Edge. He fell back a step, startled, and then held his ground and would not be moved, for all of Random's boosted strength and speed. He was, after all, an Investigator, and even an aging Investigator was a match for most things the universe could send against him. That was his job. But Random had been through the Madness Maze, and he wasn't like most things in the universe anymore. He smiled, very sanely, into Edge's crazy grin, and let his guard drop just a little. Edge's sword flew forward instantly, to take advantage of the opening. And Random's free hand came up impossibly quickly, slapping the blade to one side. For an endless moment they stood together, Edge wide open and knowing it, and then Random's sword slammed into Edge's chest and punched out his back. Edge let out a small bark of pain, Wood spraying from his grimacing mouth, and then he sank to his knees as the strength went out of him. Random pulled his sword free, and Edge collapsed onto his face, as though only the sword had been holding him up. Random decapitated him anyway, just in case. Edge was an Investigator, after all.
Ruby boosted the moment she realized her opponent was an Investigator. Barr might be the oldest of the three, but he was still far more dangerous than most men could ever be. So she dared him into a corps a corps, faces close together over crossed blades, and then she spat in his left eye. And in that split second while he was distracted, she pulled a knife from her belt and stuck it between his ribs. She felt blood gush out over her hand before he pushed himself back and away from her. She launched a furious attack, with all her boosted strength and speed behind it, and he backed away, step-by-step. Blood poured down his side with every movement, but still he wouldn't give in to the dreadful wound in his side, parrying her every blow, his face calm and unmoved. In the end Ruby had to use all her strength to beat aside his blade and all her speed to bring the edge of her sword flashing back across his exposed throat.
Blood spurted, splashing her face. She stepped back, wiping it off her forehead so it wouldn't run down into her eyes. She smiled as she saw her cut had sliced half through his neck, and then the smile faded as she realized Barr was still standing. He was an Investigator, and he was damned if he'd go down into the dark without taking his enemy with him. He threw himself at her, his sword swinging around in an unstoppable arc. Ruby dropped to one knee and ducked under it. Her head jerked slightly as Barr's blade cut off a chunk of her hair. She thrust her sword deep into Barr's belly. He grunted once and backed away, pulling himself off the transfixing blade. Ruby let go of her sword and surged up off her knee. She grabbed Barr's head between both her hands, forced him over backward, and slammed the back of his head down onto the jagged tip of a metal stalactite. It slammed through his head and the point burst up out of his right eye. Barr convulsed and then was finally still, the breath going out of him in a long frustrated sigh. Ruby retrieved her sword, breathing hard, and then looked Barr over carefully from a safe distance, just in case. He had been an Investigator, after all. Satisfied that he really was dead at last, Ruby leaned over and kissed him on the bloody lips, then straightened up and looked around to see how Random was doing.
The battle was pretty much over. The rebels had had the advantages of position and surprise, and a familiarity with the killing ground. For all their experience and their fury, the Faithful and the Wolfe mercenaries never stood a chance. Most were dead. The few survivors had formed a defiant group around the one surviving Investigator, Shoal. Ruby moved to stand beside Random facing her. Neither of them mentioned Storm. Shoal looked from one to the other, her sword dripping blood, and then she grinned quickly, turned, and darted up an unguarded path and out of the cavern. The others scrambled after her, and the Rejects let them go. Someone had to tell the Wolfes of the great rebel victory.
The battle was over. The Rejects moved among the wounded, dispassionately finishing off the enemy and doing what they could for their own kind. They had no place for prisoners in the underground, and the long journey to the Sisters of Mercy would kill them anyway. Random and Ruby put away their swords and went to look for Alexander Storm, a swordsman long past his best last seen facing off against Investigator Shoal. They moved among the bodies, occasionally turning them over to study the blood-flecked faces, but he wasn't there. They eventually found him hiding in a concealed hollow, well away from the main action. He wasn't hurt. He looked up at them, and in his face there was only anger and resentment.
"I ran," he said defiantly. "So would any sane man, faced with an Investigator. I'm not inhumanly fast and strong, like you. I was no match for her, and we both knew it. So I turned and ran, and she let me go. She had more important things to do. After all, how dangerous could one old fool be?"
"You were doing fine until she came along," said Random. "You were fighting just like you used to."
"I was tired and hurting, and I couldn't get my breath. I can't fight like I used to anymore. I'm an old man past his prime. Just like you used to be. Only you're not, anymore. Are you?"
"Alex…"
"I saw you fighting. No one's that fast or that strong. Not even the Jack Random of legend. I don't recognize you anymore, Jack. What are you? A Fury? A Hadenman? An alien? Because I don't think you're human anymore."
"I'm your friend," said Random. "Just as I always have been."
"No you're not. You're looking younger all the time. No one can stand against you, not even Investigators. Whatever you are now, you have nothing in common with the likes of me anymore. Maybe you did die when the Empire had you, after all. Or at least the Jack Random I used to know."
He pushed past them and walked away. Random started after him. "Alex, please… I need you."
Ruby stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Let him go. He's right. We're not the people we used to be. We're better. And you don't need him. You've got me."
Random looked at the bloody mask of her face for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "I've got you."
Mother Beatrice of the Sisters of Mercy held the flap of the hospital tent open so that the stretcher-bearers could bring in more wounded. There were many gravely injured after the unexpected rebel attack, and already the tent was full to overflowing. There was already no room left for cot beds. Beatrice had had them thrown out, to pack more wounded in. Now they lay shoulder to shoulder on bloody sheets, screaming and moaning and whimpering and waiting to die. The stench of blood and vomit and naked guts was almost overpowering, despite all the disinfectant the Sisters were splashing around. Beatrice knew she'd get used to it after a while, but that didn't help her now. The smell made her head spin, and she clutched at the tent flap for support. Or maybe it was just the hopelessness of it all. Beatrice and her people were doing all they could, knowing as they did that most of the time it wasn't going to be enough. After Toby's broadcast, drugs and plasma and medical supplies had come flooding in from the Sisterhood and other charities, as well as the reluctant Wolfes, but no more doctors or nurses. Technos III wasn't that important, and they were needed elsewhere. No one had foreseen a bloodbath like this. She'd never seen so many casualties from one battle. Normally, they just died. Her new resources meant Beatrice could keep more of the wounded alive, but that meant a greater strain on her still limited space and supplies. Damn the rebels. Damn the Wolfes. And damn her for coming here because she thought sh
e could make a difference.
Beatrice wiped at her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand, not knowing she left a crimson smear behind from her bloodstained hand. When she thought of what she could do with a real med lab and real equipment, it made her feel sick and useless, so mostly she tried not to think about it and got on with what she could do. She pushed her tiredness aside and went back into the tent. Back into hell. She made her way slowly down the length of the tent, stepping over bodies and patients, helping the doctors and the nurses where she could. Even if it only meant holding a patient's hand or placing a cool hand on a fevered brow. Sometimes she had to help hold a man down while the doctors operated. They were saving the anesthetics for those who wouldn't survive the shock of extended surgery. For quick in-and-out jobs they usually just gave the poor bastard something to bite on. To muffle the screams as much as anything.
She moved on, doing what she could, praying silently to her God for strength. The bodies were being carried away almost as soon as they stopped breathing. Partly because they needed the space for the living, but mostly because the Wolfes were storing the bodies for future use as organ donors. They'd paid for the mercenaries' services, so they owned the bodies. And far be it for the Wolfes to overlook a source of profit. Of course, none of the wounded here would benefit. Transplants were for officer class only.
Beatrice gritted her teeth to keep from swearing. Or crying. It was important that she didn't appear upset or worried. She had to look calm and confident, as though everything was under control. The patients needed to believe that. The poor bloody bastards.
She moved on, her shoes squelching in pools of blood and other fluids. The stench from open gut wounds and those who'd fouled themselves in dying was almost overpowering. And then she stopped, as it seemed to her she recognized a face. She knelt down beside the twitching, delirious man and frowned thoughtfully. Half of his left arm was missing, severed above the elbow. He'd taken other sword hits, too. Beatrice bit her lip. Of course she knew the face. She'd seen it often enough in the factory complex. This wasn't a Church soldier or a mercenary. This was a clone. And since the Empire didn't allow clones to use weapons, this had to be an escaped clone. Presumably, a rebel from the recent assault. She shrugged and got to her feet. She was a Sister of Mercy, and all were welcome here. And to hell with what the Wolfes said. She beckoned to the nearest nurse.
"This one's a rebel," she said quietly. "Do we have any more?"
"Thirty-two so far. You did say…"
"Yes, I did. Keep their faces covered. With bandages if you have to. What the Wolfes don't know won't hurt them, and we don't need the complications. Any news on more supplies?"
"Most of it's still held up in orbit. Since the attack, the Wolfes are only allowing essential craft-landing permission. Security, they say."
"Bastards. I'll contact the Sisterhood again when I get a chance. See if they can put some pressure on."
"What do we do with the rebels once they're well enough to be moved? Can't just leave them here; we need the space. But what's the point in healing them if we just have to hand them over to Wolfe security afterward?"
"Don't worry about it. The rebels will spirit them away as soon as they can safely be moved. They always do." Beatrice looked back over her shoulder as raised voices came from the entrance to the tent. She saw who it was and scowled. "Here comes trouble. Get those faces covered. Now."
The nurse nodded quickly and turned away. Beatrice made her way back to the entrance as quickly as she could and blocked it with her body. She nodded for the flustered nurse to leave it to her, and the nurse nodded gratefully and left her to it. Beatrice smiled icily at the newcomer.
"Cardinal Kassar, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company at this extremely busy time?"
"You've got rebel wounded in here," said Kassar flatly. "I've had reports. I want them handed over to my people for questioning. Now. They shouldn't be here anyway. I've got more hurt men coming in."
"Something else gone wrong?"
"None of your business."
"You're the one filling my tent with wounded. That makes it my business. And as a Sister of Mercy, I'll treat anyone who needs my help. That's my job."
Kassar smiled coldly. "Screw your job. Either you turn those rebel scum over to me now, or I'll have my men come in and drag them out."
Beatrice nodded calmly. "Always knew you were a bit of a bastard, James. But don't let your anger over losing a battle push you into doing something you'll regret. The Sisterhood still has a lot of pull with the Church back on Golgotha. And right now I'm the Sisterhood's favorite daughter. I'm doing great things for their image. You mess with me, and my superiors will have your superiors come down on you like a ton of bricks in a wind shaft."
"We're a long way from Golgotha, Beatrice. By the time you can get word out, it'll all be over. Your precious rebels have information I need, and I'm going to squeeze it out of them, drop by drop. They'll suffer as my men have suffered. And there's not a damned thing you can do to stop me."
"Wrong," said Beatrice. "Look down, Cardinal."
They both looked down, and there was Beatrice's hand, holding a scalpel pressed lightly against Kassar's groin. They both stood very still.
"You wouldn't dare," said Kassar.
"Try me," said Beatrice. "Like you said, we're a long way from Golgotha. Accidents happen. You don't give a damn about your men being hurt. You're just desperate to salvage some small success from this unholy mess, so your precious career doesn't go down the toilet. Well, this is my territory, James, and we do things my way here. You try and walk over me, and I swear I'll geld you, right here and now."
Kassar looked into her steady eyes and believed her.
"I'll be back. With armed men."
"No you won't. I've got a hidden camera recording this. You really want your men to see you backed down by a mere Sister of Mercy? That would really kill your promotion chances. Now, get out of here. I'm sick of looking at you."
Kassar nodded jerkily and stepped carefully backward. "I won't forget this, bitch."
"That's the idea. Now, piss off. I have work to do."
Kassar turned and strode away, his stiff back radiating helpless rage. God help the first person he ran into back at the complex. Beatrice watched him go, hefting the scalpel thoughtfully. There wasn't actually any hidden camera, but Kassar wouldn't believe that. It was the sort of thing he'd do, after all. She'd do well to keep a watchful eye on the Cardinal after this. He was a spiteful man, and he never forgot an insult. Beatrice couldn't find it in herself to care. She had more important things to concern her. She turned around as one of the doctors called her name urgently and trudged back through the blood and death to see what she could do to help.
Cardinal James Kassar was still fuming when he joined Half A Man in his quarters for their prearranged meeting. He'd fix the bitch. Though maybe not personally. And not until he'd got the tape. Wouldn't do for anyone else to find out how she'd humiliated him. He nodded curtly to Half A Man, who was standing at parade rest beside a bed Kassar suspected he never used anyway. It was hard to think of Half A Man doing something as human and vulnerable as sleeping. The spitting energy field that made up the right half of the man's body was openly disturbing when seen up close. It seemed to be no color and every color all at once, and if you looked at it too long it swallowed up your gaze till you were lost in it. Kassar kept his gaze fixed on what was left of Half A Man's face. Though even that didn't seem very human anymore.
"Let's get to the point," Kassar said harshly. "I need to debrief what's left of my men after today's debacle. You have instructions from my superiors on how to deal with the Wolfes?"
"Very simple instructions," said Half A Man. When he opened his mouth to speak, Kassar could see energy seething within it. He made himself concentrate on what Half A Man was saying. "You're to plant explosives I've brought with me in certain delicate parts of the factory. I have a map that will show you the exact positions. The
explosions will do just enough damage to slow down stardrive production, without actually putting it in jeopardy. The purpose is to make the Wolfes look incompetent. The Church will then be in a strong position to take over control of stardrive production in the best interests of the Empire. Apparently, your superiors feel the need for rather more influence at Court."
Kassar nodded. "Easy enough to arrange. I know just the man for the job. Very discreet and, if need be, completely expendable. You supply the map and the explosives, and I'll take care of the details. No one will notice anything until the bombs go off." He stopped and studied Half A Man thoughtfully for a moment. "You've never struck me as particularly religious before. Why risk your much-vaunted impartiality to smuggle in explosives for the Church? What are you getting out of this?"
"Something I want very badly. Nothing you need to know about."
"Well, I want something, too," said Kassar. "Mother Superior Beatrice of the Sisters of Mercy. She's running a field hospital here. I want her killed. Horribly. You arrange that for me, and I'll keep quiet about what I know."
"I could kill you right now," said Half A Man.
"You can't make this work without me," said Kassar evenly. "You don't have the contacts. Only my men have unsupervised access to the kinds of places the bombs will have to go. Anyone else, and the Wolfes' security people will start asking awkward questions. You need me."
"The quality of people entering the Church has gone right down the drain in recent years," said Half A Man. "Very well. I'm empowered to be… flexible, to get the job done. I'll see that Beatrice meets an unpleasant end."
"I'll tell you when," said Kassar. "I need to check if a certain tape exists first."
Deathstalker Rebellion Page 53
