Deathstalker

here before someone comes looking for him. Or us. We can decide where we're going later.' He took a deep breath and let it out. 'Nothing like a little gratuitous violence to stir the blood. I feel almost human again. You'd better have a good reason for disturbing my retirement, Deathstalker. I was happy being nobody. No demands, no responsibilities. You've woken me up, and I won't easily go back to sleep. If I'm going to try for the gold ring one last time, it's going to have to be worth it.'

'Stick with us,' said Owen, 'and you'll have all the action you can handle, and then some. It's us or the Empire now; death or glory. But then, for you I suppose it always is.'

'Something like that,' said Random. 'Something like that.'

Outside the Olympus health spa, the mists had come down thick and heavy, and the world was gray and silent. Owen looked around uneasily. Any number of assassins could be hiding out there in the fog. Hopefully, they were just as blind and disorientated as he was. Hazel looked left and right and scowled unhappily.

'Don't tell me you're lost,' said Owen. 'That's all we need.'

'It's a long time since I was last here,' said Hazel defensively. 'And the fog isn't helping. Anyway, I thought you had a built-in compass that told you where you were?'

'Oh, I know where I am,' said Owen. 'I just don't know where anything else is. I can point due north, if that's any help.'

'Follow me,' said Hazel. 'And stay close. It'd be only too easy to get lost and separated in fog like this, and we haven't the time to send out search parties.'

She moved slowly and carefully away from the spa, one hand held out behind her. Owen moved after her, almost treading on her heels. Random followed him, and Moon brought up the rear. The two walls of a narrow alleyway slowly formed out of the mists to either side of them as they walked on, gray and stained and characterless, with no clues as to their location. The only sound was the soft trudging of their feet through the packed snow. Owen tried hard to see the positive side.

'If nothing else,' he said finally, 'it's got to be as hard for our pursuers as it is for us. We could walk right past each other in this fog and never know it.'

'Unless they're listening to you,' said Hazel. 'Or unless they've got an esper with them.'

'That's right,' said Owen. 'Cheer me up, why don't you?' He glanced back at the Hadenman. 'How about you, Moon? See anything worth seeing with those amazing eyes of yours?'

'Just fog and more fog,' said Moon, and then he stopped suddenly, and cocked his head slightly to one side. The others stopped, too, and looked back at him.

'What is it?' said Owen.

'There's someone out there,' said the augmented man. 'I can hear their feet breaking the snow.'

'Which way?' snapped Owen, drawing his disrupter. 'Give me a direction.'

And then he broke off as a tall figure formed slowly out of the mists before him. He started to raise his gun, and then lowered it again as he recognized the muscular goddess from the health spa. She walked toward him, smiling seductively, hands open to show they were empty. And then Moon stepped forward, his golden eyes blazing brightly.

'It's a hologram. There's someone behind it.'

Owen's hand snapped up, and he fired his gun. The energy beam ripped through the hologram without harming it, and then the goddess disappeared in a moment as the beam exploded a wall beyond her. Owen caught a brief glimpse of a fleeting figure in the mists, then an energy beam snapped right past him and he dived for cover, yelling for the others to do the same. Within moments, Owen was alone in the mists, crouching beside the nearest wall to make a smaller target. He switched the gun to his left hand and drew his sword. For the next two minutes, both his gun and his opponent's were useless till their energy crystals had recharged, and that brought it down to steel. Unless the bastard had two guns. Or a friend with a gun. Owen cursed silently and strained his ears against the quiet. The hologram had been a good trick, and he'd very nearly fallen for it. He hadn't expected that kind of high-tech sophistication on Mistworld.

He moved slowly forward, keeping his shoulder pressed against the wall to orientate himself. His boots made soft crunching sounds in the thick snow for all his care, and his back muscles crawled in anticipation of the energy beam or sword thrust he'd probably never even feel. He didn't dare boost, not so soon after the last time. There was also no getting away from the fact that he was feeling distinctly fragile from his earlier wounds. His spell in the regeneration machine on the Sunstrider had briefly supercharged his healing processes, but there were still limits, and he was fast approaching them. A good night's sleep and a few high-protein meals would work wonders, but he couldn't see his pursuers letting up that long. The bastards. It seemed to Owen that he'd done nothing but run and hide since he'd learned of his outlawing, and the thought grated. He glared about himself, and the mists looked impassively back.

A heavy form crashed down into him from above, and he fell sprawling in the snow. He tucked one arm under him and rolled to one side, dislodging his attacker. He scrambled forward, and a sword stabbed into the snow where he'd been. Owen lurched to his feet and found himself facing a medium-height woman wearing black leathers mostly concealed under white furs. No wonder he hadn't spotted her in the mists. The furs provided perfect camouflage. Her face was pale and pointed, with dark steady eyes and a helmet of short black hair. She held her sword like she knew how to use it, and her slight smile was cool and confident.

He just had time to take that much in and then she was upon him, the point of her sword leaping for his heart. He got his own sword up just in time, and for a moment they stood face-to-face, steel clashing on steel as they tried out each other's skill. It didn't take Owen long to realize he was facing a master swordswoman, and he was surprised to discover he didn't give a damn. This was at least the kind of fight he preferred; one on one with everything up front. He was tired of faceless pursuers and attacks from hiding. He wanted an enemy he could hit. His opponent was good, no doubt of it, but he was a Deathstalker, and she was going to find out what that meant.

They stamped back and forth on the slippery snow, searching for an opening, hammering their swords together. Owen used all his strength and guile and skill and was still hard-pressed to match the fury of his opponent's attack. The temptation to boost was almost overpowering, but he wouldn't do it. Partly because he was worried what it would do to his already weakened system, but mostly because he was damned if he'd escape into boost just to take out a single attacker. He had his pride. He'd never thought of himself as a warrior, but he'd been trained in swordsmanship by some of the finest tutors in the Empire. And besides, he'd done too much running just lately.

He threw himself at his opponent, forcing her back by the sheer strength and speed of his attack, then swept her sword aside and shoulder-charged her. The impact drove the breath from her lungs and threw her backward. Her feet shot out from under her and she crashed heavily onto the packed snow. Owen was immediately standing over her, one foot stamping down on her wrist to keep her from lifting her sword. She groped for her gun with her other hand, but Owen already had his pointing at her. She lay back, resigned but not defeated, and glared up at him. When she spoke, her voice was cold and unwavering.

'Do it.'

Owen surprised himself by hesitating. It was one thing to kill someone in the heat of battle, but to murder a helpless enemy… that was the Empire's way, and he was no longer a subject of the Empire. On the other hand, if he didn't kill her, she was almost certainly going to get up and kill him. He was still considering this, while trying very hard to keep it off of his face, when his companions emerged out of the mists to join him, drawn by the sound of fighting. Hazel looked down at the fallen bounty hunter and shook her head disgustedly.

'Owen, meet Ruby Journey.'

'Of course,' said Owen heavily. 'It would have to be, wouldn't it?'

He took his foot off the bounty hunter's wrist and stepped back to let her rise, still covering her with his disrupter. She rose slowly to her feet, never taking her eyes off him. It occurred to Owen that while she wasn't pretty and never would be, there was still something darkly attractive about her: cold but sensual, like a deadly snake with beautiful markings. The thought surprised him, and he pushed it to one side. He still hadn't decided whether he ought to kill her or not.

'Ruby, what the hell did you think you were doing?' said Hazel. 'Didn't you get any of my messages?'

The bounty hunter shrugged. 'The price was too tempting. Besides, I wanted to see if I could take him. I've never killed a Deathstalker.'

'Well, you can forget that now,' said Hazel briskly. 'Join up with us and I promise you all the fighting and loot