another poor soul caught between a rock and a hard place. Let us change the subject yet again. Was there anything new from Mistworld before we left?'
'Nothing helpful. Ruby and I knew a few useful people in Mistport, and Jack Random came up with a few more names, but they're all still very suspicious of us. We didn't make any friends on our last visit, and they've learned the hard way down the years to trust no one but themselves. They're waiting for us to commit ourselves first. They want a sign; something bold and audacious, and above all, successful.'
'Fair enough,' said Owen. 'This first strike against Golgotha should impress the hell out of them. Assuming nothing goes wrong and we don't foul up. We only have one chance at this, and we've had no chance to practice. I have done my best to stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong; it just makes my head hurt and does terrible things to my bladder. I was never meant to be a warrior, no matter what my father wanted.'
Hazel looked at him for a moment. 'Owen, you think about your father too much. You've told me how he tried to manipulate you all your life, through his schemes and intrigues and hidden agendas, but he's dead now. It's all over now. Let it go. You're your own man these days.'
'Am I? He's still pulling my strings, even from the grave! This is just the kind of magnificent heroic gesture he always believed in! I'm becoming exactly the kind of man he wanted, the kind of man I've struggled all my life not to be: a bully with a sword.'
Hazel sighed inwardly and wondered how many times they were going to have to change the subject before they could find something they could both safely talk about. There had to be something. 'This Stevie Blue, who's supposed to be meeting us dirtside; know anything about him?'
'You read the same reports I did. Apparently, he's an esper clone, in fairly high standing in the Golgotha underground. Assuming we manage to get together, he'll come back with us to be the underground's voice in our planning sessions. Reading between the lines, I get the feeling he's a bit of an anarchist, but it takes all sorts to make an Empire. Or a rebellion.'
'What do you expect to happen after we've won, and it's all over?' Hazel said suddenly. 'We've never really discussed this, any of us. We've spent a lot of time talking about bringing Lionstone down, but none at all discussing what we're going to replace her with.'
'It's all rather moot at the moment,' said Owen. 'The odds are stacked against us surviving, let alone winning. But if we do depose her… Well, I suppose Parliament and the Company of Lords will put forward suitable candidates, and together we'll choose someone new to become Emperor and begin a program of reforms. Clean up the corruption, work in a little more democracy here and there, and of course a pardon for all rebels past and present. Then we can all get back to leading normal lives again.'
'To hell with that!' Hazel said hotly. 'We're not going through all this just to settle for the same old same old, with some pretty new window dressing! The whole system is corrupt from top to bottom, and our only chance for real justice is to tear it all down and start again. No more Emperor, no more Lords, liberation for all clones and espers, full democracy and freedom for everyone!'
'Everyone?' said Owen aghast. 'Clones, aliens, espers… everyone?'
'Damn right. It has to be for everyone. That's what freedom means.'
'Sounds more like anarchy to me. Not to mention total bloody chaos. If no one knows their place, how can you achieve anything?'
'I have never known my place, and I've achieved quite a lot. You'd be surprised what people can do, given a chance.'
Owen looked at her thoughtfully. 'Hazel d'Ark. The d'Arks used to be nobility, not all that long ago. Do I detect just a little overreaction here? By someone just a little ashamed of their aristocratic roots? Surely, Hazel, you must feel some loyalty to the Iron Throne?'
'Not one damned bit. The only soft spot I've got for the nobility would be a massive quicksand big enough to swallow the whole lot of them. I was never an aristo. I wasn't born a d'Ark; I stole the name when I was on the run and needed some false papers in a hurry. Mainly, because I liked the sound of it. I didn't want to risk my family finding me again or being sent back to them if I was rounded up.'
'You never talk about your family,' said Owen. 'Don't you ever miss them?'
'No I bloody don't,' said Hazel. 'If I never hear from them again, that will suit me just fine.'
Owen chose his words carefully. 'Did they… abuse you in any way?'
'Oh, no. Nothing like that. They were just so bloody boring and nice I couldn't stand them. Their idea of a wild party was a wine and cheese tasting where you spit the wine out. I had to get away, see the universe, taste some life before I got old and gray like them. You know how it is.'
'Yes,' said Owen. 'I suppose I do. But I never had a chance to leave my Family. Too many duties and responsibilities. In the end they all left me, dying one after the other while I just stood by helplessly and watched it happen. There was never anything I could have done, but it didn't stop me feeling I should have done something.
'The boost killed a lot of them while they were still children. Only a few in every generation survive its first onslaught. The price of our genetic gift. Which is why I am all the sons and daughters of my father's line. I'm pretty much all that's left of the Clan now. Apparently, they found some distant cousin to take over the Lordship in my place, but I'm the last of the direct line. When I die, my line dies with me. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Seems to me we did as much harm as good down the years, but then I suppose that's true of most of the Families. And above it all, my father, sacrificing me and everyone else in his endless schemes and intrigues… I never had a life of my own, ever since I was a small child. This mission is the nearest I've come to running away, to doing what I want to do instead of what my father planned. It feels very… liberating.'
He smiled suddenly. 'You're right. I do tend to lecture people, don't I? One of the more socially acceptable vices of the scholar, I'm afraid. What were we talking about? Oh, yes, universal suffrage, even for the non-people. I really don't think you've been thinking this through, Hazel. If all the clones and espers were to be freed and enfranchised, the Empire itself would collapse. Its whole economy is based on the exploitation of clones and espers. They turn the wheels that keep things moving. Without them, everything would just fall apart. Food and power distribution would be disrupted, businesses would be in chaos… Civilization itself could be threatened. Billions of innocents would suffer.'
'No one's really innocent, if their lives of comfort are based on the suffering of others. If we have to tear civilization apart in order to put it back together again in a more just form, then that's what we'll do. Remember how horrified you were at how people lived on Mistworld? The appalling conditions and short brutal lives? Think how bad the lives of clones and espers in the Empire must be, if they're prepared to risk their lives just for a chance to flee to Mistworld. They're not second-class citizens, they're not even slaves. They're just property. Worked till they dropped, because there are always more to replace them. When I said tear it all down, I wasn't kidding. Anything would be better than what we've got now.'
'I can't argue with that,' said Owen. 'I spent most of my life ignoring things I didn't want to see; I won't do that anymore. But there's still the problem of the aliens. There are at least two new alien species Out There somewhere, not counting whatever created the Madness Maze, all of them at least equal to our own level of technology. Weaken the Empire too much, and they might just walk in and wipe us out.'
Hazel shrugged. 'We can't afford to think about all the possibilities, or we'd go mad. There'd always be some good reason why we should put things off. Lionstone has to fall if the people are to be free, and if you and I are to live in safety. All we can do is take things one step at a time. We'll worry about the aliens as and when they make an appearance. They don't have to be enemies, you know. And anyway, you're a fine one to talk; you're the one who woke a whole army of Hadenmen from their Tomb. The only reason the Hadenmen aren't still the official Enemies of Humanity is because the AIs on Shub are worse. I suppose you'll be suggesting we team up with them next.'
'I would rather cut off my head with a rusty saw,' Owen said firmly. 'The Hadenmen are a calculated risk. Shub, on the other hand, will settle for nothing less than the extermination of the human species. I may be reckless, but I am not stupid.'
They both looked up sharply as one of the augmented men approached them. Hazel surreptitiously turned her reassembled projectile weapon so that it tracked the Hadenman's progress. Owen let his hand drift casually closer to his disrupter. The augmented man loomed over them, his movements inhumanly graceful, his eyes blazing so brightly Owen and Hazel couldn't look at them directly. His face held nothing that could be recognized as a human emotion, and when he spoke his voice was a harsh, grotesque buzzing.
