Deathstalker

approaching, and turned quickly in his chair in case it was Moon coming back. But the man in the doorway was the original Deathstalker, the man called Giles. He looked tired, and perhaps just a little lost. He gestured for Random to stay seated and sank into the chair beside him. He looked at the world on the viewscreen and sniffed once.

'Ugly planet. Didn't look much better when it was alive, from orbit. Maybe that made it easier to destroy it. I never thought to see it again. When I landed the Last Standing on Shandrakor, I was expecting to die. Everyone's hand was turned against me. Some for using the Darkvoid Device, some because I was determined it would never be used again. No one was more surprised than I when the dust finally settled and I found I'd killed all the people sent to kill me. Part of me had wanted to die. So I went into stasis in the hope that things would work themselves out before I had to waken again. I should have known better. Things are more complicated now than they were before. Three different kinds of augmented men, rogue AIs, an insane Empress on the Iron Throne, and not one but two possible alien threats. And my descendant, the Deathstalker of this time, is a historian.'

'He's a good man,' said Random. 'He fights well, when he has to, and he has a good head on his shoulders. He cares about people, and mostly for the right reasons. You could have done a lot worse.'

'I hear much the same about you,' said Giles. 'They tell me you're a famous warrior and a great leader of the rebellion.'

Random sighed. 'Maybe once. I'm not sure anymore. I spent most of my life fighting on one world after another, giving up all hope of love or family or a normal life, just to lead a struggle whose end was always just over the next horizon. I saw good men die, over and over again, many better men than me, and all for nothing. The Empire's as strong now as it ever was, and I'm just an old man with nowhere safe to lay his head.'

'It's not whether we win or lose,' said Giles. 'It's how many of the bastards we can take with us. Anyone can look away and pretend they don't see evil, as long as it doesn't affect them. But a man of honor has no choice but to stand up and do something. Whatever happens, you and I have lived the life we chose. Too many people live the lives other people think they ought to, following orders they don't agree with, for causes they don't believe in. They live lives that don't matter, that touch no one and change nothing. For better or worse, you and I stared evil in the eye and didn't flinch. We raised our swords and went to war, and even if we didn't win we kicked some ass along the way. We made a difference, and that's all any man can ask.'

'Yes,' said Jack Random. 'We got a lot of people killed who followed us expecting miracles. Aren't you ever bothered by ghosts, Giles?'

'Of course. Some of them are waiting for me on the planet below. But I make my decisions based on the future, not the past. Ghosts have to know their place.'

'It must be wonderful to be so strong, so sure,' said Random. 'To have all the answers. If you have a moment, pity us poor mortals with our doubts and failings.'

He got up and left, brushing past Owen in the doorway without speaking to him. Owen turned to watch him stalk away down the corridor and then looked at Giles.

'What's got into him?'

'He's just feeling his age. Preparing for battle will do that to you. It's a time to open your heart to strangers and hope for absolution. Is that what you've come to me for, kinsman?'

'No. I was just passing and heard voices.'

'So how are you feeling? Ready for the fray?'

'I suppose so. It's not like I have any choice in the matter, is it? Ever since this all began, I've been harried from planet to planet, with the bad guys never more than a few minutes behind me. No time to think, let alone rest. And no matter which way I turn, all I hear is duty, duty. Fight for this cause, fight for that, fight just for the right to stay alive. What choices have I had recently?'

'There are always choices, kinsman. You can choose to fight or to run, to be strong or weak. To take joy in fighting the good fight and never bowing to a villain. You come from a Family of warriors who never surrendered to greater odds, or struck for a peace they didn't believe in. We have a tradition of facing and rising above whatever obstacles fate places in our path, and meeting our enemies with cold steel in our hands and a smile on our lips. We have always been heroes, warriors, men of destiny.'

'Save the pep speech for someone who believes in it,' said Owen. 'I've been hearing that shit all my life. It didn't save my father when the Empire sent a master swordsman after him, and it won't save us when Lionstone's forces arrive here. We are six people, facing the might of the Empire. Our chances suck. Our only hope for survival lies in waking a race of semihuman beings who might or might not wipe us out on sight, and hope we can convince them to fight alongside us. That's assuming they don't decide to wipe out all of Humanity like they tried to the last time. We are outnumbered, outgunned, and out of luck. I'm a historian; I've seen what happens to rebellions without massive funding, big armies and a solid power base. We don't stand a chance, Giles. The odds are we're going to die, and die bloody.'

Giles smiled easily. 'If we're going to die anyway, we might as well die well. Die fighting and take as many of the bastards with you as you can. If that's all that's left to you, go down still swinging your sword. Make them pay for their victory.'

'Oh, very romantic. My father would have loved you. He believed in all that crap, too, but he still ended up dying alone on a main concourse, with his guts scattered over the street, while people walking by gave him plenty of room so they wouldn't get blood on their shoes. It's all right for you to talk like that. You were Warrior Prime. You led armies. I never wanted to be a warrior. All I ever wanted was to be left alone to read my books and work on my histories. Instead. I've been forced to fight and kill people I don't even know, just so I can lead a rebellion I'm not even sure I believe in.

'Even if by some miracle we did win, what use would Jack Random's Empire have for an ex-aristocrat like me? I represent everything he and his kind want to be rid of. They'd probably end up putting me on trial for exploitation of the masses. And all your romantic talk of taking your enemies down with you; what did that lead to last time? Using the Darkvoid Device. How many billions of innocents died because of that? You know how you're remembered in my history books? As the greatest mass murderer of all time.'

'That's right,' said Giles. 'I am. I placed my trust in the Iron Throne, and it betrayed me. You have to understand how tempting the Device was then; a way to stop a systems-wide rebellion at one stroke. I wasn't even sure it would work. It was only afterward, when the first reports began to come in, that I realized the true horror of what I'd done. In order to justify myself, I plunged into research, examining the reasons behind the rebellion. And found, to my astonishment, that they had been right all along. The Empire was cruel and corrupt, both in choice and in nature. The system itself was evil.

'So I took the Device and ran. Gave up every honor I had or hoped to achieve to ensure that the horror of the Darkvoid would never be repeated. We do not fight here for pleasure or profit, historian, but because we must if evil is not to prevail.'

'You see?' said Owen. 'We're back to choice again. And I don't have any. I can't back out, go back to being who and what I was: a naive innocent, who never questioned where his comforts came from. I've seen too much; things I turned my head away from before. I have no excuse. I was a historian; I knew the suffering and injustice the Empire was built on. I just told myself it was nothing to do with me.

'My father lived for his intrigues against the Iron Throne. So much so that he never seemed to have any time for me. So I never had any time for his intrigues. I made my own life as a quiet, uncontroversial scholar. I should have known it wouldn't last. And once I had my face shoved into the bloody underside of the Empire, I couldn't look away anymore. Too many innocents are being hurt, every day, as a matter of course. So I'll be the warrior my Family wanted me to be. I'll be a rebel and fight for the cause, and if need be die for it, but don't you ever think I'm doing this of my own will.'

'Of course you are,' said Giles. 'You said it yourself. You couldn't look away, once you saw how things really are. Same thing happened to Jack Random, to your father and to me. Everyone here thinks they're fighting for their own reasons, but in the end we'll fight and maybe die because we can't look away. We won't let ourselves. It's as good a reason to fight as any, and better than most. I've listened when the others talked of you. You're not interested in being a fighter or a hero or a leader of men; you just want to do the right thing. And that's the only kind of warrior that's worth a damn. If I had to have a historian as my descendant, I'm happy enough it's you. I could have done a lot worse.

'Now, let's go round up the others. We'll be teleporting down to the Madness Maze soon, and there are things I need to discuss with all of you first. The situation down below is… rather complicated.'

'Now there's a surprise,' said Owen, and his ancestor laughed.