Deathstalker

Hazel wasn't at all sure she liked the way he'd put that, but she didn't really have any choice, and she knew it. The shock that had protected her from the worst of her burns had worn off long ago. Every movement was agony now, and she was hovering on the edge of total exhaustion. She couldn't argue anymore, and anyway, sooner or later she was going to have to trust the Deathstalker. Even if he was a Lord. She nodded stiffly to Owen and stepped clumsily into the cylinder. She lay down and gave herself up to fate with something like relief. She shut her eyes as the cylinder closed over her.

'Do you want me to make any changes in the young lady?' said the AI diffidently.

Owen frowned. 'How do you mean changes?'

'Well, there are several programs I can run while she's in the cylinder that would make her more… tractable. Programs to make her loyal to you, for example, and prevent her from raising any weapon against you. They're quite safe and would do her no lasting damage. It's simply a matter of security, Owen. She is an outlaw, after all.'

'So am I,' said Owen. 'You leave her mind alone. That's an order.'

'Yes, Owen. As you wish.'

Owen wasn't sure why he was so angry. The computer was programmed to look after his best interests. It was just doing its job. But Hazel had risked her life to save his for no profit that he could see. No one had ever done that for him before who didn't have to, and he wasn't sure yet how he felt about that. Until he was sure, Hazel d'Ark was under his protection. Even from himself, if necessary.

'Anything new on the sensors?' he said finally.

'Nothing so far. Your plunging into a lake has confused the hell out of them. I'm picking up all kinds of unprotected transmissions. Some think it was desperation, others are suggesting suicide. Right now they're arguing about whether to wait for you to reemerge, or go in after you.'

'Let me know when they make up their minds.' Owen stretched slowly. The cylinder had repaired all his physical hurts, but he was still mentally exhausted. 'I still can't believe everything fell apart so fast. I seem to have gone through the only experience left for the man who has everything: losing it all. This has to be some kind of ghastly mistake. I've done nothing to be outlawed for.'

'Perhaps,' said the AI, 'if you were to surrender yourself, and offer to hand over Miss d'Ark as a sign of good faith…'

'No. I don't want to hear that kind of idea from you again. Besides, I already thought of that, and it wouldn't work. They'd just take her and kill me anyway. Is the ship ready to go yet?'

'Yes, Owen. Ready for takeoff.'

The cylinder opened, and Hazel emerged like a rather bedraggled butterfly from its cocoon. Her overalls had been repaired and looked cleaner than Owen would have thought possible. She allowed Owen to help her out, studying her now flawless skin with awe. 'I know people who would pay a medium-sized fortune for access to something like this.'

'If we find ourselves dangerously short of money, perhaps you can set up a deal,' said Owen, smiling. 'Now, if you'd like to join me in the main compartment, I think it's time we got the hell out of here. Once we're up and moving, there's nothing on this planet that can catch us. Oz, take us up, and don't stop for anything till we're in orbit.'

'Yes, Owen.'

'Then where?' said Hazel, following him back into the first compartment.

Owen shrugged. 'I was hoping you'd have some ideas. I'm new to the outlaw business. Where can we go where we'll be safe from the kind of people who'll be coming after me? And before you say anything, no, I am not interested in joining up with any rebel groups against the Empire. I am still loyal to the Iron Throne and the Empire, if not the Empress.'

'Nicely rationalized,' said Ozymandius.

'There's only one place we can go,' said Hazel. 'Mistworld, the rebel planet. But it's a one-way trip. You'll be safe enough there, but no one ever leaves Mistworld.'

'Mistworld. I might have known.' Hazel looked at Owen inquiringly, and he shook his head. 'Don't ask. Very well, for want of anywhere better to go, Mistworld it is. Set the coordinates, Oz. Let me know when we're ready to make the hyper jump.'

'Yes, Owen. We are now in orbit.'

'What, already?' said Hazel. 'I didn't even know we'd taken off.'

'I told you this yacht was special,' said Owen smugly. 'Oz, show us what's happening on the main viewscreen.'

One of the walls became a viewscreen, showing Virimonde far below, and an Imperial starcruiser heading straight for them. Even as they watched, a second starcruiser dropped out of hyperspace behind the first.

'Two starcruisers?' said Owen, staring at the screen in disbelief. 'They sent Mo bloody starcruisers to get me? Cut me some slack, dammit.'

'There is a possibility this might be something to do with me,' said Hazel reluctantly. 'My previous ship rammed a starcruiser just after I got away in the escape pod. Presumably they got a distress call out as they went down.'

'Thanks a whole bunch,' said Owen. 'Any other nasty little surprises you've been keeping from me? No, tell me later. Oz, shields up and go hyper the moment the power levels are steady. I don't know why they're not firing already___'

'Presumably they're being extra cautious, after already losing one ship,' said the AI. 'It's not something that happens all that often. They're trying to contact us. Should I talk to them?'

'It couldn't hurt. Lie a lot.'

'There's no way this ship can stand up to that kind of firepower,' said Hazel. 'And there's no way we can get out of here before they open fire.'

'Not necessarily,' said Owen. 'This ship has a new kind of hyperdrive. Very powerful, very fast.'

'Why do I get this strong feeling that there's a but hanging on the end of that?'

'But, it's rather… untested. No one's had a chance to use it much yet, and there's always the chance they haven't got all the bugs out. I always intended to take her on a long shakedown run, but what with one thing and another, I never found the time. And then circumstances rather caught up with me.'

'Great,' said Hazel. 'Just great. If I had anything left in my stomach, I think I'd be sick.'

'All systems are ready, Owen,' said the AI. 'Or as ready as they're ever going to be. Power's up and all tests are positive. I'm lying my head off to both starcruisers, but I don't think they're in a listening mood. Both are now in firing range. It's time to go, Owen. There's nothing left to hold us here.'

The viewscreen filled with light as both starcruisers opened fire on the Sunstrider. Owen and Hazel winced instinctively.

Take us out of here, Oz,' said Owen. 'We're going to Mistworld.'

'And the good God grant us luck,' said Hazel. 'Because we're going to need it.'

The Sunstrider dropped into hyperspace and was gone, and the starcruisers were left to orbit Virimonde alone.

CHAPTER THREE

Fashion, Paranoia and Elves

The Imperial Palace lay deep in the rotten heart of Golgotha, homeworld of the Empire: the concentration of power, and of destiny. It lay hidden away, far below the surface, drawing its power from a geothermal tap; sunk so deep even a scorching by the entire Fleet couldn't touch it. Up above, the delicate towers and pastel cities of the elite, the noble and the moneyed. Down below, like a cancer in a rose, a massive steel bunker a mile and a half wide, the home and fortress of Her Imperial Majesty, Lionstone XIV. And within that bunker, behind the many layers