by Douglas Hill
camouflage. But now the surface showed deep scars, great rents and gashes, through which the glint of metal showed from the exposed hull that was the artificial skin of the Overseers' base.
Nor was it damage that could have been caused by meteor showers, or minor collisions with space debris. This damage came from a savage attack by human weapons of great power.
'Talis must have put up quite a fight,' Keill said.
Glr agreed. Let us hope that the Deathwing is not manning the defences so thoroughly...
Keill!
Her shriek had been caused by the sudden arrival of the first fragment of the space rubble – a huge, sharp-cornered boulder looming in the forward viewscreens.
But Keill's reflexes were untroubled. The ship veered away, its drive howling, then twisted again to avoid another rocky lump. 'Try to be calm,' he advised Glr absently, his hands a blur over the controls.
Calm?Glr flared, as the ship flashed among a scattering of smaller rocks, none larger than a man's head, all capable of disabling most spacecraft if struck at that velocity.
Then she fell silent, knowing that Keill needed no distractions. The space rubble, which had looked so small at a distance, contained some chunks of rock considerably larger than the ship. And there were countless more of the smaller lumps lying in wait among the spaces between.
There was a faint jolt, then another, as the ship spiralled up and around one of the larger bodies.
But they had been only glancing blows, grazes, that did not harm the ship's tough hull.
Again the ship's drive bellowed in protest as Keill dragged it back upon itself, like a living creature trying to bite its own tail, to force it through a gap between two giant fangs of rock. Then it was swerving sideways again, weaving and fishtailing, before suddenly bursting out into open space, with the curving bulk of the asteroid appearing to rush towards it at a terrifying speed.
Glr flung her mind across the rapidly narrowing gap.
Keill, Talis is safely on the other side of the asteroid. And look... there!
Keill had seen it too. A fearsomely broad, jagged scar on the surface of the asteroid, showing a sheen of smooth brown at its centre.
'That's the sealant!' Keill shouted. 'They've already made a hole for me – what's on the other side, can you tell?'
Swiftly Glr's mind reached out again, sensed the presence of human minds, caught a mental glimpse of a cavernous chamber, a high domed roof...
I think it is the large chamber where your ship was kept, she said urgently, when you were with the Overseers!
'Perfect!' Keill yelled. 'Anyway, if it isn't, we're about to find out!
As he spoke, he cut the ship's drive, fired his retro rockets at full power, and slammed a hand on the firing studs of his forward energy guns.
The retros thundered, the guns blazed. A dark redness swam across Keill's eyes for a brief moment, as the terrible deceleration took effect. As his vision cleared, he saw the enormous gash in the asteroid's skin, filling the viewscreen, being blasted open again by the furious impact of the guns.
Then his ship smashed into the centre of the smoking, widening gap. Again the redness blurred Keill's vision as the ship's forward plunge was checked – by the impact as well as by the retros – and then was halted completely by a grinding, splintering collision with some object within the asteroid.
Keill could not see what it was, for the forward screens had blanked out, wrecked by the destructive plunge. But in any case he was not looking.
The ship had scarcely come to rest, a portion of its stern still jutting out into space from the hull of the asteroid, when Keill had sprung to the airlock, and through it, both guns leaping into-his hands.
One swift glance told him that Glr had been right – it was the high-domed chamber where the Overseers had kept his ship. And the object that his ship had finally struck had been a huge curved section of metal, clearly designed to be put in place as a permanent repair to the yawning gap in the hull.
There had been a few technicians working on the repairs. But they had worn spacesuits, and so some had survived the explosive entry of his ship.
Charred bodies huddled among the wreckage showed that they had not all survived the blast of his retros and ship guns. But at least two were still standing.
They were green-tunicked Golvicians, and they were resilient enough to recover from their shock in time to reach for their weapons. But they got no further. As Keill sprang from his ship his own guns flamed, and cut the two men down with their guns only half-raised.
Keill spared an instant to check his ship. Its blunt nose seemed even blunter now, somewhat crumpled, and there was a good deal of damage to the exterior, including some of the viewscreen scanners. But none of the damage looked serious from where he stood.
The fact that he had come through the material of the hull's sealant, and not through the much tougher metal of the hull itself, had been a piece of luck. He could probably fly his ship out – if he lived to do so.
He glanced at the rear of the ship. The self-sealant in the asteroid's hull was flowing round the new gap, and would soon hold the ship in a solid grip to allow atmosphere to flow back into the chamber. Then Glr could get on with her part of the job.
'See you soon!'He flung the thought at Glr as he turned and ran towards the nearest door out of the chamber.
But he had taken only a stride when the door was flung open.
Ten space-helmeted Golvicians burst into the chamber, guns ready. And as Keill dived towards the skimpy cover of nearby wreckage, scattered by his ship's entry, another door clanged open on the far side of the chamber.
Ten more armed soldiers advanced – positioned to pin him down in a deadly crossfire.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Energy beams crackled around Keill as he flattened himself behind the inadequate cover. Only an instant remained before one of the beams would find its mark, but he was not going down easily. In that instant, while the first group was still bunched within the door, he flung one of his four grenades towards them in a high arc, and then rolled quickly away to turn his guns against the second group.
It proved unnecessary. Just as the grenade exploded, in a flat crash of sound, a huge burst of energy lanced through the air from behind Keill. It swept in a broad swathe of destruction along the wall of the chamber – and the second group of Golvicians, reacting a split-second too late, were scythed down as they tried, panicking, to turn and run.
Keill rose to one knee. The floor of the chamber at each doorway was littered with unmoving, Golvician bodies. The grenade had flattened the first group – and Glr had fired the powerful portside guns of Keill's ship at the second group.
'How did you do that?'he asked wonderingly. 'The viewscreens are out.'
I looked through your eyes,Glr replied simply. Not too accurately, at first, but effectively.
'That's cut the odds a bit,'Keill said with gratitude. As he spoke he was resuming his rush to the door of the chamber, hurdling the dead soldiers in his path.
Outside the chamber, a broad corridor led towards the heart of the asteroid – and there were no soldiers in sight. He sprinted along the corridor, remembering another time when he had fled through the interconnecting passages that honeycombed the asteroid's interior. He had then been seeking escape from what he had wrongly assumed to be captivity, by the Overseers. That was before old Talis, his face hidden in the dark cowl of his robe, had revealed to Keill the monstrous truth about the Warlord. It all seemed a long time ago – but now it had brought him full circle, back at last to the asteroid where his quest had begun.
And where it would be finished, Keill promised. A silent vow – to the dead Legions, to Glr and the Overseers, to himself.
He swung into a narrower side passage, slowing his pace, moving with wary care. His concentration and alertness were tuned to their highest pitch. All his speed, his power, his uncanny combat skills were poised and ready.
And more. Because he was lau
nching into the final desperate battle – because he was one against so many – something else arose within Keill, fuelling and focusing his skills.
The awesome, irresistible battle fury of a legionary.
It was never the blind, foaming fury of a berserker. It was cold, defined, controlled. And within Keill, it was composed mostly of a pure and towering vengefulness. For the murder of Moros, for the pain and horror that Keill himself had suffered – but also for all the death and destruction, all the terror and cruelty, that the Warlord and his minions had spread through the galaxy.
It was as if Keill had released a ravening beast within himself. Yet the beast that was his battle rage was kept on a tight rein, disciplined and directed, a formidable extra source of power during his plunge into the last battle.
There could be no quarter, no mercy, no prisoners. And certainly no surrender. A legionary in his battle fury, facing monstrous odds, fought on until he died, or until no more enemies remained.
So for a while Keill Randor ceased to be a man. As he moved through the corridors of the asteroid he was a predator, a killing machine, a relentless force of terrible, inescapable retribution.
---
The narrower passage that he had entered was intersected by a steep gangway, rising to the next level.
From above he heard movement, and he sprang up the gangway, his soft-soled boots silent on the smooth metal floor. He emerged in front of a group of three green-uniformed soldiers, obviously hurrying to get behind him and cut him off.
Compared to Keill's supreme combat readiness, everyone else was moving in slow motion. He had slid sideways into a compact crouch and fired three times before the soldiers' eyes had finished widening in shock. The three men spun and crumpled, their hoarse cries of fear cut sharply, off. Before they had hit the floor Keill was leaping past them towards another gangway.
He knew, with fierce satisfaction, that by now the entire asteroid would be close to panic. The psychological effect of his ship's unexpected, destructive entry would have been strong enough. But the fact that they would surely now know who it was – Keill. Randor, impossibly escaped from the living death of the Arachnis slavery – would be badly affecting the nerves of his enemies.
So would the fact that he would now seem to have vanished into the mazy depths of the asteroid
– to have become a will o' the wisp, eluding those sent to destroy him, appearing out of nowhere with unsettling suddenness to destroy the destroyers.
He expected that The One would eventually gather the Deathwing and make a stand, preferring to let the soldiers risk the open fighting in the corridors, knowing that Keill would have to come and face them. But there would be time to think about that in a while. First, he intended to whittle the odds down further. He wanted no Golvicians coming at his back when he went to confront the Deathwing.
Up the next gangway, into a deserted corridor. Two metres away he saw one of the smooth doors, like the interior hatchway of a spaceship, swing open a crack. Without breaking stride, Keill leaped, slamming a boot in a ferocious flying kick against the door.
It burst open, half-ripped from its hinges, and the soldier who was waiting behind it to ambush Keill was flung crushingly against the far wall of the narrow room beyond the door. The angle of his neck, as he slid to the floor, showed that he would not be getting up again.
Keill had already rushed on, not sparing a backward glance. Glr had calculated about forty Golvicians on the asteroid – and more than half of those had been put out of action in the first devastating assault that followed the entry of Keill's ship. Now he was cutting down the rest of them, a few at a time.
The surviving Golvicians, hunting in small groups, began to be more wary. But it did them little good, as Keill weaved his deadly way through the network of passages.
One moment he was ghosting through a series of connecting rooms to emerge suddenly behind a nervously watchful trio of soldiers – disappearing abruptly as their corpses toppled. Another moment he materialised in front of six soldiers who were rushing to the lower levels to guard the asteroid's life support systems and artificial gravity unit. Their panicky shots went wildly astray – and then Keill led them away from the life support area, led them into one of the stout-walled outer rooms where part of the asteroid's defensive system was located. As they charged in after him, Keill slipped out through a separate hatch, leaving another of his grenades behind, primed and ready. No one in that room escaped the carnage.
Nor did the backup troop, also sent hurriedly to protect the vital life support area. Among the solid, bulky shapes of the machinery Keill played a lethal game of hide-and-seek, luring them into traps, cutting them down one at a time, finally closing with the last man and finishing him with a savage chop that crushed his throat.
In the brief lull that followed, Keill took a moment to fit new charges into his energy guns. No other soldiers seemed to be threatening his position – but then there were probably few, if any, left. And the Deathwing was not likely to risk the life support system by coming in after him with any heavy weapons. In that pause Glr reached her mind to him.
I have left the ship, she reported. Atmosphere was restored quite soon. The Deathwing has moved Talis, and I am making my way to him.
'Where?'Keill asked crisply.
If you remember the large recreation room, Glr replied, where Talis first explained everything to you...
' I remember. Near the centre, on the next to topmost level.'
Exactly. They are moving towards that room, with Talis. Next to it lies a deep vertical shaft that has been cut into the heart of the asteroid, to contain the Arachnis thing.
Keill nodded grimly to himself. The Deathwing was, as expected, gathering in their defensive position.
'Give me time to get there first,'Keill told Glr. 'And be careful.'
Why?Theword held hint of Glr's laughter. There are only a few Golvicians left – and they are searching for you in areas where they fervently hope you will not be found. The inner voice became grave. It is you who must take care. There are twelve of the Deathwing, and The One, awaiting you. And what I can sense from their minds is... disturbing.
As her mind withdrew, Keill clipped his recharged guns on to his belt and moved towards the passage that would take him most quickly to the section of the asteroid that Glr had specified. The corridors were empty – so Glr was right, that there would be little more resistance from the Golvician soldiers. Only the Deathwing remained.
And he did not need Glr's reminder. Any Deathwing agent was dangerous – that was why The One chose them. And he knew exactly how much more dangerous this group was, especially the mutants. He could remember all too clearly the hours and days of combat training that he himself had given them, to improve and extend their skills.
But he was not troubled. The woman in scarlet, Marska, had been right. It took more than a week or two for anyone, even a Deathwing mutant, to achieve the combat level of a legionary. It would not be easy to oppose the thirteen of them, well-armed and highly skilled as they were. But it would not be impossible.
Then the thought struck him, with a flash of grim humour. Thirteen of them, including The One.
It'll be just like the Battle Rites of Banthei.
Except nobody's cheering – and there's no rule against killing.
There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as he raced through the corridors unhesitatingly, even eagerly, towards the final confrontation.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Keill came to an abrupt stop as he entered the wide passageway that led, at its far end, to the door into the asteroid's recreation room. The corridor was empty and silent, the door firmly closed.
His mind worked at computer speed, seeking a possible battle plan. He knew the Deathwing would be waiting for him inside, expecting him. Somehow he had to go through that door and into some kind of cover without thirteen weapons cutting him to pieces.
A faint scuffling sound at his back interrupted his thoughts.
He was already whirling and leaping before the green-tunicked Golvician, who had entered the corridor behind him, realised that the scrape of boots had betrayed him. The man went down, under the axe-blade edge of Keill's hand, with a faint look of puzzlement on his face.
Keill looked down at the body, toying with a thought. It had worked for him once before, and though he wouldn't fool the Deathwing for more than a second or two, that might be all the time he needed.
It was worth a try. Swiftly he tore off the spacesuit that he still wore, and wrenched the tunic from the soldier crumpled at his feet. The tunic was bulky and loose, even when worn over Keill's own uniform. He transferred his guns and his two remaining grenades to his belt, inside the tunic, and closed only one of the tunic's fastenings, so that he could reach the weapons easily. Then he placed the heavy helmet on his head, and was about to move away when his eye was caught by a small detail of the Golvician uniform.
The seams of the trousers carried a kind of trimming, or piping – a stiff, tight roll of fabric, formed into a stout cord, very light in colour. It looked a little like another kind of pale-coloured cord in his recent experience...
Steely fingers ripped away a length of the piping from the fallen man's uniform. Then Keill removed the helmet and twined the cord round his head, knotting it firmly at the back, before replacing the helmet. The cord was clearly visible, tight across his brow.
Ready at last, he strode calmly down the corridor towards the door to the recreation room. As he moved, he forced all expression out of his face, made his eyes blank and empty.
He knew that he was relying on illusion, but he also knew that he did not need to maintain it for long. He was counting on the fact that people did not always look at the faces of men in familiar uniforms – not at once, anyway. The Deathwing eyes would be drawn to the green Golvician tunic and helmet – and to the cord, the imitation of the Arachnis tendril.
By the time any of them had seen past these superficialities, it might well be too late for them.
