Deathstalker

He stopped suddenly and peered suspiciously about him in the gloom. The dimly glowing lamp shed a blue- white light before and behind him, but between the widely spaced lamps there was a darkness so deep even his chemically boosted eyes couldn't pierce it. He listened intently, holding himself perfectly still, but nothing stirred. Valentine scowled thoughtfully. He could have sworn he'd heard something, but sound traveled strangely in the narrow service duct. God only knew what kind of small, disgusting life might have made a home for itself down here.

He wasn't that far from one of the main sewer offshoots, according to the map he'd memorized earlier. There were all kinds of stories about what strange and malignant creatures flourished in the sewers. Also, according to rumor, sewer workers received battle pay and bonuses for the heads of anything they brought back with them. Not that Valentine ever listened to such stories. He looked round sharply, sure he'd picked up something just at the edge of his hearing, but there was only the silence and the gloom. He concentrated, and deep within his body, drug caches dumped their loads into his systems. His breathing quickened and deepened as his metabolism speeded up, ready for action. He was stronger, faster, sharper now, and more than ready for whatever was out there. He grinned broadly. Let it come. Let them all come. A thoughtful voice somewhere at the back of his mind pointed out that he shouldn't really waste his resources. He'd set in motion events that would eventually produce a new supplier to replace dear dead Georgios, but until the new source was established and proven reliable, he would be wise to avoid using up anything he couldn't easily replace. Valentine decided to ignore the voice. It sounded entirely too sane and sensible, and Valentine Wolfe hadn't got where he was by being sane and sensible.

A light flared suddenly in the gloom ahead of him, sharp and distinct after the blue-white glare of the lamps, followed by the faint sound of footsteps splashing through the slime. Valentine's smile widened, and he drew his gun. A dark figure appeared in the tunnel ahead, silhouetted against the light. It stopped a respectful distance away, calm and silent, a ball of glowing clear white light bobbing at its shoulder. The figure looked human, but Valentine wasn't in the mood to make allowances. In fact, he felt rather like shooting it, anyway, on general principles. And then the figure spoke in a calm, collected voice that had the flat perfection of a machine. Presumably computer-disguised to prevent identification.

'I didn't mean to alarm you, good sir, but you'll understand that in our position it pays to be cautious, if not downright paranoid. Allow me to give you the first part of the current password: New.'

'Hope,' said Valentine, relaxing just a little but not lowering his gun. 'Rather an obvious choice, I would have thought, but then no one asked my opinion. May I ask who you are?'

The figure moved slowly forward, taking its time so that Valentine wouldn't feel threatened. It finally came to a halt before him. bent almost in two under the low roof, and Valentine's interest increased as he realized that any identifying signs were concealed inside a long flowing cape. Even more interesting, there was nothing inside the cape's hood: no face, no head, nothing at all. The ball of light bobbed cheerfully at the figure's shoulder, bright and clear, and Valentine had to tone down his vision.

'I am Hood,' said the figure. 'Coordinator between the clone and esper undergrounds and the cyberats. And you, sir?'

'Valentine Wolfe, patron and advisor to the undergrounds. I've heard of you, Hood. The shadow in the background, the presence behind the throne, so to speak. I and the rest of the patrons are required to reveal our identities, the espers insist on it, but you alone are allowed anonymity. I wonder why.'

'Because I'm valuable to them,' said Hood. 'And as long as they need me, they indulge me. I've heard of you, Valentine, hut then I suppose everyone has. You've pumped quite a lot of money into the undergrounds by all accounts, but I have to say I can't see why. You are heir to the Wolfe Clan; you stand to inherit everything. What on earth do you need that you have to come to the undergrounds to get it?'

'Sorry,' said Valentine. 'I never tell everything on a first date.'

'As you wish. I wonder what the undergrounds want this time that such important backers as you and I had to be summoned so urgently?'

'It had better be important,' said Valentine. 'I feel quite naked without my usual persona. Shall we go?'

'Of course. It's not far now. After you.'

'Oh, no. After you.'

The cape's hood bobbed once in what might have been agreement or humor, and Hood turned and led the way down a side runnel that if anything smelled even worse. Valentine followed close behind, his gun still in his hand. He flushed most of the drugs from his system, but kept a few in reserve, just in case.

Normally the underground only summoned its patrons one at a time, so that if they were captured they wouldn't be able to identify anyone else. Something important must be in the wind for two to be needed. Valentine studied Hood's enigmatic back thoughtfully. The lack of a face was interesting; the underground was almost fanatical in its need to know exactly who it was dealing with. It could be a holographic disguise, but nothing less than an esp-blocker would protect Hood's thoughts from an esper's probing mind, and the underground wouldn't tolerate that for a second. Hood: a supplier of money, reportedly well connected, he worked well with both the clone and esper undergrounds, which was rare. They didn't trust easily, and there were few indeed who'd earned the trust of both.

As if to underline that thought, Hood and Valentine came to a sudden halt before the first warning sign. It was a dead man, hanging from the ceiling like a broken puppet. Its arms and legs had been smashed, with white points of splintered bone protruding from the bloody flesh. The corpse slowly raised its head to look at Hood and Valentine, and its eye sockets were empty. Blood spilled down the colorless cheeks like thick crimson tears. It opened its mouth, and maggots poured down its chin.

'Go back,' it said slowly, haltingly, as though it had almost forgotten how to speak. 'Go back now.'

Valentine looked at Hood. 'Be honest: Would this scare you if you were a crack squadron of the Empress' guards?'

'Not really,' said Hood. 'But then, I've seen it before. They insist on running this routine even when they know it's me. I think they just do it for the practice.'

The dead man scowled at them. 'Turn back. I mean it. I'm not kidding.'

'Oh, shut up,' said Valentine. 'I've seen scarier things than you in my daydreams.'

'He probably has,' said Hood. 'This is Valentine Wolfe. The Valentine Wolfe.'

The dead man disappeared between one moment and the next. The smell stayed pretty much the same, though. The empty hood looked at Valentine. 'They've heard of you.'

Valentine smiled. 'Everyone's heard of me.' He paused. 'Can you hear something?'

A low roar began from somewhere behind them, building steadily in volume. The tunnel floor vibrated under their feet. Thick ripples surged across the surface of the slime. A growing pressure built in the air, like the wave of compressed air that precedes an underground train. The roar grew louder and the floor shook. Valentine looked quickly about him, but there was nowhere to run except further down the tunnel. The roar was deafening now, the pressure of the air flat and heavy against his face. Hood was standing very still, as though frozen in place by shock. Then a vast wave of rushing water came bursting through the tunnel toward them, thundering forward like a runaway train.

'They've opened the damned sewers!' yelled Valentine. 'Grab onto something or we'll be swept away!'

The tidal wave loomed up before them, filling the tunnel, and then it was gone. No water, no noise, nothing at all. The air was quiet and calm and undisturbed. Valentine let his breath out slowly.

'You bastards.'

Got you, crowed a voice in his head. I don't just do corpses, you know.

Hood shook his head and chuckled slowly. 'We did ask for it, didn't we?'

Just practicing. I never get to do anything down here. No one comes for ages. I don't know why we bother keeping a watch. Go straight ahead and take the second left. Meeting's just ahead. You're expected. And tell them I could do with a drink.

There was a lot Valentine felt like saying, but he didn't. He had his dignity to consider. He looked at Hood. 'You can't get good help these days.'

'It never pays to underestimate espers,' said Hood, starting off down the tunnel again. 'They know everything you're thinking.'

'Oh, I doubt that,' said Valentine, splashing through the slime after him. 'Anyone who enters my mind does so at their own peril, after all the things I've done to it.'