Deathstalker Return

by Simon R. Green

  "Stop that!" Lewis said sharply, and the sound cut off immediately. All kinds of eyes studied the Deathstalker as he stepped forward to face them. He took a deep breath, and tried to tell himself he was doing the right thing. "Look, it isn't fair to you, to give you false hope. Yes, I'm Lewis Deathstalker, but I'm here only because Jenny Psycho asked me…"

  "Yes!" said the albino. "Jenny Psycho! We remember her. From Silo Nine, Wormboy Hell. She delivered us from that place. And now she sends you here, to deliver us."

  "But…" said Lewis.

  "Save it," Jesamine said quietly, sharply, just to him. "Whatever you say, they'll find some way to make it match what they want to believe."

  A few of the more human-sized monsters crawled towards Lewis on all fours, grim and ugly shapes that looked like they'd been pieced together out of disparate leftover parts, and it was all Lewis could do not to retreat from them. They stopped a respectful distance away, and stared up at him with pleading eyes. One of them stretched out a trembling hand to him, speaking in a soft, disturbingly ordinary voice.

  "Have you come to take us home, at last?" it said. "Is it over now? Please, I want to go home."

  "Oh, Jesus," said Jesamine, pressing her hand against her mouth.

  "I cant help you," said Lewis, almost desperately. "I've been outlawed."

  The creature nodded its head slowly. "Just like us. It is the prophecy…"

  Lewis made himself crouch down before the hideous creature, so he could meet its mismatched eyes. "When this is over, if I'm still alive, I promise I'll do what I can for you. I'll talk to the King, and to Shub. I'll get some kind of justice for you. It isn't right that you should have been just left here, and abandoned. Do you believe me?"

  "Of course," said the creature. "You're a Deathstalker."

  It crawled away backwards to rejoin its own kind. Lewis got to his feet again, and Jesamine grabbed him firmly by the arm.

  "What do you think you're doing?" she said urgently. "You really think you can take these… beings back to Logres? Or any civilized world?"

  "Right," said Brett, coming forwards to peer nervously past Jesamine's shoulder. "At best, those poor bastards would end up in the Imperial Zoo."

  "There's always the Arena," said Rose.

  "Shut up, Rose," said Brett.

  "If even Shub couldn't help them, what can we do?" said Jesamine.

  "We can do our best to make amends," Lewis said firmly. "This isn't right. They didn't ask to be made into monsters. Anyway, Logres has embraced so many monsters recently, a few more shouldn't bother them. And maybe, just maybe… if we do eventually go to Haden, and enter the Madness Maze, and some of us emerge changed like Owen… He restored the Recreated, made them human again.

  Maybe we can do the same, here. But whatever happens, I won't allow this to continue. We have a responsibility to these people, to the last victims of the old war. Owen would never have stood for this, and I won't either."

  "Brett?" said Jesamine. "What's the matter now?"

  Brett had been remembering the Spider Harps, in their stone vault deep under the Imperial Zoo. He felt very strongly that there'd been far too many monsters in his life of late. He was hot and sweaty and tired and he needed to sit down. He glowered sullenly at Lewis. "I think all this prophecy shit has gone to your head, Deathstalker. We're just a bunch of outlaws on the run. We can't even help ourselves. We've no right to promise anything to anyone."

  "Shut up, Brett," said Jesamine. "God, you're a depressing bastard. And about as much use as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest."

  "Leave him alone," said Rose. "He's doing his best."

  "Now that is a depressing thought," said Jesamine.

  "Excuse me," said Saturday, looming over them suddenly and interrupting something that had all the makings for a really disagreeable row. "Do you mind if I leave you for a while? I've just met this really charming almost-reptiloid lady, so I'm off to get laid. Why are you all looking at me like that?"

  "We were all just nearly killed!" said Brett. "How can you think of sex at a time like this?"

  "Best time," Saturday said briskly. "Nothing like a little gratuitous slaughter to get the juices running. You see that creature over there, with the long tail and the golden scales? She was one of the ones who first attacked us. Isn't she delightful? Just look at the size of her foreclaws."

  "Are you sure that's a female?" Jesamine said dubiously. "I mean, I don't see any… well, anything, really."

  "Oh, yes," said Saturday. "You should smell her pheromones. I can't wait to lick the blood off her scales. I'm off. See you all later. Try not to get into any trouble without me."

  And off he went, swinging his long barbed tail provocatively behind him. The four humans looked at each other.

  "Just when you think things can't get any more disgusting," said Brett.

  "I'd tell him to take precautions," said Jesamine. "But I hate to think what that might involve where he's concerned."

  "You know, if we had a camera…" Brett said thoughtfully.

  "Don't even go there," said Lewis. He turned back to the albino creature, determined to change the subject. "We came here in search of my ancestors' castle, the Last Standing. It was suppposed to have crash-landed somewhere near here. Do you have any idea where we should look for it?"

  "Of course," said the albino. "It is a holy place to us. One of us will guide you there."

  He gestured at the respectfully watching crowd, and one of them came forward to join Lewis and his companions. The four humans moved to stand even closer together. This particular creature had clearly started out human. The withered, atrophied remains of a human torso hung bobbing between eight large, hairy spider legs. The torso's arms and legs had been crudely removed, and the hairless cranium of the human head had been unnaturally swollen to hold six crimson eyes. The mouth had been stretched wide by twitching bony mandibles. The creature stalked across the open ground to halt, swaying, before Lewis, and just the way the many-jointed legs moved made all the humans cringe instinctively. Brett hid behind Rose, and peered over her shoulder.

  "Hail to you, Sir Deathstalker," said the spider-thing, indistinctly. "Call me Guide. It is an honor to serve you. Don't let the legs put you off. I think that's why Shub gave them to me. They were always great ones for psychological warfare. I still have human thoughts, though I am plagued by insect instincts. So I'd advise you all to look the other way when it's feeding time. I was human once. I was a crewman on an Imperial starcruiser, ambushed by a Shub ship. Most of us had the sense to die fighting, but I was captured. I can't remember the ship's name anymore, or where we came from. Most of my history is lost to me. It was all so very long ago… There is a calendar here, carved on a tree, maintained from the first day we were abandoned here, but we have no way of knowing how reliable it is.

  "Shub did this to me, just because it could. I have never forgiven them. They can take their creed and shove it. They may have fooled everyone else with their great awakening, but I know better. They're just biding their time till they're strong enough to destroy all organic life and replace it with their own metal kind. All that's kept me alive this long is dreams of revenge and retribution."

  "He's a bit chatty for a spider, isn't he?" said Brett.

  "You get used to him," said the albino. "He'll get you to the castle, Sir Deathstalker."

  And then they all looked around as Saturday came back to join them, smiling happily. Brett sniggered.

  "You weren't gone long. What happened, did you get overexcited?"

  "It was all perfectly splendid," said the reptiloid. "Sex is a swift and marvelously intense thing on my world—mainly because if it wasn't, something would come along and kill you while you were both preoccupied and vulnerable. Ah, the joys of lust and procreation! I found it all very satisfying, and I'm sure she'll recover soon."

  There was a pause, and then Lewis said, "Saturday, what have you done?"

  "Did no one ever tell you how reptiloids mat
e?" said Saturday. "It's really very efficient. I thrust the penis in, and after I've orgasmed it breaks off and remains embedded in the female's body. It works its way in, and when it's reached a suitable spot, barbs emerge to hold it in place. It then fertilizes all the eggs the female has, and continues to do so for as long as the penis remains embedded. When I've had a female she stays had. Reptiloids can breed with anything, you know. And mostly we do."

  "That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard," said Jesamine. And I've been around."

  "Luckily we're all hermaphrodites on Shard," said the reptiloid. Male and female in one perfect killing-machine body."

  "You mean… you're female now?" said Brett.

  "Until it grows back, yes," said Saturday.

  Brett sniffed. "You're not going to start having mood swings, are you?"

  "How could we tell?" said Jesamine. "Still, I suppose if we can get used to Rose, we can get used to anything."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," Rose said calmly.

  "I know," growled Jesamine. "That's the problem."

  "I really think we should all leave for the Standing as soon as possible," said Lewis. "If that's all right with you, Sir Guide?"

  "Of course," said the spider-thing, stamping his many feet in enthusiasm. "Word has already spread through the local population. Nothing will trouble us on our journey. We should be there in under an hour."

  In the end, it didn't take even that long. They strolled through the jungle, following a wide path the monsters had carved out over the years, and nothing bothered them except the ever-present insects. All along the way, distressing large and dangerous-looking creatures watched ominously from the jungle shadows, but kept their distance. Guide led the way, what remained of his human body dangling between his eight huge spider legs as they stabbed surefootedly through the thick undergrowth. Jesamine kept as much distance between herself and Guide as she could without seeming actually rude. She'd never liked spiders. Lewis strolled along beside the creature, chatting easily, but then that was Lewis for you. Brett and Rose followed after, both of them constantly watching the surrounding jungle suspiciously. Saturday wandered happily along in the rear, snapping insects out of the air. Good sex always made her hungry.

  When they finally reached the sight of the downed Standing, it was actually rather disappointing. There wasn't much to see. It was just another clearing, surrounded by the huge looming trees, overgrown with a thick purple grass that rose here and there in rounded hillocks. No sign that anything had ever crashed there, let alone something the size of a castle. But there was… something, about the clearing. The temperature dropped noticeably as they stepped out into the open space, and Lewis could feel all the hairs on his arms standing up. There was a tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. Nothing else moved in the clearing. No bird flew over it, and not one of the insects followed the party out of the jungle. Guide turned round to regard them, doing his best to speak clearly despite the mandibles distorting his mouth.

  "This is where the Deathstalker Standing crashed to earth. The terrible force of the impact drove most of the castle underground, though its energy shields absorbed most of the damage. The interior should be mostly intact. What little of the castle remains above-ground has been overgrown, of course. The jungle is always quick to recover its territory."

  Lewis and the others looked back and forth across the clearing, and still couldn't see anything.

  "I still can't see anything," said Lewis.

  Guide slammed one of his legs against an overgrown hillock that looked no different from any of the others. His clawed foot tore away a long curve of earth, revealing a stone wall. Guide swung his body around to fix Lewis with his six eyes. "Train your disrupter on this, Sir Deathstalker. Lowest setting."

  Lewis ran an energy beam across the hillock, searing away the vegetation, and uncovered a wide stretch of stone wall, some forty feet long and ten deep. He put his gun away, and they all crowded forwards. Steam rose slowly from the ancient, pockmarked stone, along with the not unpleasant scent of burnt grass. The wall was made up of huge cyclopean blocks, and clearly only part of a much larger structure. Brett whistled respectfully, impressed.

  "If that's just one block, how big is the wall? How big is the damned castle? Hell, they actually had a flying stone castle! I always thought they made that up!"

  "Makes you wonder what other legends about the old Standing might also be true," said Jesamine. "There are stories…"

  "Yes," said Lewis. "There are." He remembered the stories told of the old Deathstalker castle, told only in the privacy of his own Clan's Standing. Some of those stories had been… disturbing. He turned to Guide, careful to keep his voice calm and steady. "Can you show us a way in?"

  "Of course, Sir Deathstalker." Guide led the way round the hillock, and thrust aside thick swatches of vegetation with his long legs to reveal a wide and jagged crack in the ground. Lewis bent over and peered into it, but there was only an impenetrable darkness. Jesamine pressed in close beside him, clutching at his arm.

  "There could be anything in there," she murmured into his ear. "Including all kinds of traps and ambushes."

  "The thought had occurred to me," said Lewis. "But I didn't come all this way to back down now. And I won't be kept out of my ancestral home by my own… hesitations. What's beyond this opening, Sir Guide?"

  "No one knows," Guide said softly. "None of us have ever gone inside. For us, this is a holy place. We were promised our deliverance would begin in there. And even those of us who have no love for Shub still respect the castle that triumphed over both Shub and the Recreated. You go in; I'll stay here, on guard."

  "No," Lewis said immediately. "You have as much right to know what's in there as we do. Besides, there's no telling what might have got in there, or survived in there, down the years. We can use you, Sir Guide."

  The spider creature nodded his misshapen human head, overcome and unable to speak. Brett looked dubiously at the great dark crack in the earth.

  "Still," he said, trying for casual and almost making it. "Someone should stay out here, on guard. Just in case."

  "You mean you're willing to stay out here on your own?" said Jesamine, just a little maliciously. "Ready to fight off whatever might come along?"

  "I didn't necessarily mean me," Brett said immediately.

  Lewis produced a small torch, and shone its narrow beam of light into the darkness. He could just make out a drop of some ten feet, to what seemed to be a flat surface tilted at a one in three angle. He supposed they could make a crude rope out of the surrounding vegetation, but frankly he just couldn't wait any longer. He sat down on the edge of the hole, dangled his legs over the darkness, and then pushed himself off. He hit the stone floor hard, and fell sprawling. He was quickly back on his feet, bracing himself against the steep incline, flashing the light of his torch around him. It was all very quiet, and cold as the grave, and the gloom swallowed up the torchlight after only a dozen feet or so. He couldn't even tell how large a space he'd entered. He supposed he could call out and listen for an echo, but he had a strong feeling that drawing attention to himself could be a really bad idea.

  "Well?" It was Jesamine from outside, but he jumped despite himself. "Can we come down too, Lewis? Is it safe?"

  "Seems to be," he said quickly. "Come on down. I don't see any sign of a welcoming committee."

  "Understandable," said Jesamine. "They didn't know I was coming."

  She dropped lightly through the opening, easily keeping her footing on the sloping floor. Rose had to lower Brett through, and then quickly came in after him, sword and gun in hand. Saturday and Guide had to widen the gap some, but finally they squeezed through and joined the others. Lewis flashed his torch beam around, trying to pick a direction, but there was just the darkness and the cold stone, and no sound at all apart from what they brought with them. The air was dry and dusty, tickling the back of his throat. He felt like a tomb robber.

  A
nd then there was a sudden lurch, as though the whole castle had shuddered, stirring in its sleep. The floor pressed up against their feet, and then settled itself, and suddenly they were all standing at the same angle as the floor. One at a time the lights came on—gleaming silver half spheres set into the ceiling. A great stone corridor appeared around them, stretching away in both directions. And somewhere, far away and deep below, they could feel as much as hear a massive power plant starting up, energizing the castle after many long years of hibernation.

  "It's alive," whispered Brett. "The whole place is waking up. It knows we're here."

  "Lights and artificial gravity," said Jesamme. "Not bad, after a major crash landing two hundred years ago. I am officially impressed, darlings."

  Lewis turned off his torch and put it away. "This is the original Deathstalker Standing," he said quietly. "It was already a thousand years old when Owen first found it here, on Shandrakor, and woke it to life once more. They built to last, in the old days. And now here we are, looking for help against injustice, just like Owen. It's like… we've wandered out of history and into legend. Into a place where dreams come true, and miracles can happen…"

  "We don't belong here," said Brett, still whispering. "This is a place for heroes, and warriors. The kind of people who belong in legends. Not like us. This is all just… too big, too important…"

  "Why are you whispering?" said Rose.

  "Don't you have any respect?" said Brett. "No, of course not, silly question."

  "Come on, Brett," said Lewis. "I never knew you to be lacking in ambition before. Think of the treasure!"