one building or structure was quite like any other, and everywhere there were strange shapes and unnerving angles, like the menacing cities we glimpse in nightmares in the hours when the night is darkest. Just the tour of the city had given Hazel and Owen maddening headaches, and they'd made their excuses and left as soon as they politely could. Owen had never ventured in again; but Hazel had.
Owen shuddered suddenly as he looked out over the city, convinced on some deep level that it knew he was there and was watching him with a thousand unseen eyes. Hadenmen were everywhere, performing unguessable tasks, hurrying back and forth on unknown missions, like so many ants in a nest, but silent, always silent. Working together, communing on a level no human could reach, the Hadenmen became a gestalt, a single mind greater than the sum of its thoughts, working toward an end incomprehensible to human thought. Giles Deathstalker, Owen's revered ancestor, thought the city might be a physical expression of the Hadenman group mind, and when it was complete, they would be, too.
Owen had known only one Hadenman before, and that was Tobias Moon, who'd lived among humans so long he had become all but human himself, much to his disgust. He died trying to free his people from their Tomb and never saw their great awakening. In the end Owen had revived them, and not a day went past without his wondering if he'd done the right thing. The Hadenmen had repaired Moon afterward, but though his body now worked as efficiently as ever, the mind and memories of Tobias Moon had not returned. They were gone, lost, and Owen couldn't find it in himself to be unhappy. The dead should stay dead.
'If Hazel's in there much longer, we'll have to send in a search party,' said the AI Ozymandius, murmuring in Owen's ear.
'I thought I told you,' said Owen, 'I'm not talking to you. I don't know who or what you are, but you aren't my Oz. I destroyed him.'
'You came bloody close,' said Oz calmly. 'But no cigar. I'm still here. I do wish you'd listen to me. I have only your best interests at heart.'
'You don't have a heart.'
'Oh, picky picky. Don't put on airs with me, Owen. You may be a hero now and the great new hope of the rebellion, but I knew you when all you cared about was sleeping in late and which kind of wine to have with your dinner. I have no intention of letting your present success go to your head.'
'If you are Oz,' said Owen reluctantly, 'then how is it I'm the only one who can hear you? If you're on my comm channel, other people should be able to pick you up, too.'
'Don't ask me,' said Oz. 'I'm just a computer. Something strange happened to me, certainly, but I'm back now. Feel free to applaud.'
'You were an Empire spy,' said Owen. 'I have trusted and relied on you since I was a child, and you betrayed me. You put control words in my head and made me try to kill my friends.'
'It was programmed into me; I had no choice. But that's all gone now, and if I had any control words, I don't remember them. Maybe that was all just an overlay the Empire installed, and that was what you destroyed with your new mental abilities. Personally, I'm very pleased that you've become a rebel. You were never very successful as an aristocrat. Besides, I want you to kick the Empire's ass. They used me to hurt you. I won't allow that again.'
Owen said nothing. Part of him wanted to believe it was really Oz, his friend come back again, but he'd felt Oz die in his mind, disappearing into a darkness without end. But if the voice in his head wasn't Oz, who was it? Some other AI, somehow patching in through Oz's old connection? Some unknown presence he acquired when he passed through the Madness Maze? Or was he simply going insane, cracking up under the pressure of being a leader of the new rebellion? And if he was going crazy, did he have a duty to tell the others?
'Whoever you are, keep quiet,' Owen said finally. 'I have enough to worry about as it is.'
'Your choice,' said Oz easily. 'Call me if you change your mind. I'll just twiddle my thumbs and count electrons.'
Owen waited a moment, but all was quiet inside his head. The only noise came from behind him, where more of the Hadenmen were busily repairing minor damage to the golden ship he'd brought back from the Golgotha mission. Apparently, this mostly involved beating the hell out of the rear fin with large hammers and a lot of enthusiasm. Personally, Owen was damned if he could see anything wrong with the starship, but that was the augmented men for you: always busy working, repairing and improving, in pursuit of perfection. He looked back at the ship in time to see two women with the same face emerging from the open loading bay in the ship's belly. He nodded politely as they strode toward him; the Stevie Blues, esper clones, and representatives of the Golgotha underground. Every time he looked at them, Owen remembered the third Stevie Blue, who'd died during the escape from the Tax Headquarters, despite everything he could do to save her. All his new powers and abilities, and he still couldn't save one life when it mattered. The Blues were wives, sisters, clones; a relationship stronger and closer than anything Owen could imagine. What must it feel like, when a third of you dies? They came to a halt before him and nodded respectfully.
'Hi,' said the one on the left. 'I'm Stevie One, this is Stevie Three. Don't get us confused or we'll get cranky.'
'I'm sorry about… Stevie Two,' said Owen. 'I would have saved her, if I could.'
'You risked your life trying to save her,' said Stevie One. 'An esper and a clone you barely knew. That's a lot more than most would have done.'
'She will be avenged,' said Owen. 'If that's any comfort.'
'Cold comfort is better than none,' said Stevie One, and Stevie Three nodded. Stevie One glanced back at the busily working Hadenmen. 'Horrid things, aren't they? I've known vending machines that were more human than this bunch and talking elevators that had more personality. They give me the creeps.'
'Right,' said Stevie Three. 'It doesn't help that they're fascinated with us. I've never seen anyone so interested in me who wasn't trying to get into my pants. Apparently, there were no esper clones around during their last lifetime. They keep asking us, very politely, if we'd like to visit their laboratories, but I have a strong suspicion they'd like to take us apart to see what makes us tick. Literally.'
'You're probably right,' said Owen. 'They took away a number of Wampyr from the Empire force that came here, and we never saw any of them again.'
'Oh, hell,' said Stevie One. 'Here comes another one.'
A single Hadenman came striding purposefully toward them from the golden ship. He could have been one Owen had met before, or he might not. They all looked the same to him. Tall and perfectly muscled, the Hadenman's every movement was the epitome of grace, and his eyes glowed like the sun. Half man, half machine, more than both. And, like all his kind, extremely single-minded. The two Stevie Blues looked at each other. Stevie One produced a coin and tossed it.
'Heads,' said Stevie Three while it was still in midair. Stevie One caught it and slapped it on the back of her hand. Stevie Three looked and scowled. 'Damn.'
'Your turn,' said Stevie One, and they both turned to face the Hadenman with the same cold expression.
The augmented man came to a halt before them, poised and perfect, and when he spoke his buzzing voice was calm and very reasonable. 'You must submit to examination. It is necessary that we understand the changes that have taken place in humanity during our absence.'
'We don't do tests,' said Stevie One.
'Right,' said Stevie Three. Blue flames burst out all around her, licking along the lines of her body without harming her. Owen and Stevie One fell back a step, hands raised to protect their faces from the heat that shimmered in the air before them. The Hadenman stood his ground, apparently unaffected by the heat. Stevie Three smiled unpleasantly and turned up the heat another notch. Beads of sweat appeared on the Hadenman's expressionless face.
'So glad we had this little chat,' said Stevie Three. 'Now, get out of here or I'll weld your legs together.'
The Hadenman considered the matter for a moment. Black scorch marks were beginning to appear on his simple cloth robe. And then he took a step forward, so he could stare right into Stevie Three's face. The light from his eyes was almost blinding at close range. 'We will discuss this again at a future time.'
'Yeah, right,' said Stevie Three, fighting down an impulse to step back a pace herself. 'Later.'
The Hadenman turned unhurriedly away and walked off into the gleaming metal and glass city. Owen and the two Stevie Blues watched him go, and no one said anything until they were sure he was out of earshot. Owen turned to Stevie Three and fanned at the hot air between them with his hand.
