Deathstalker War

the thousands of brains and melded the tissues together to form the single construct before you. Thousands of living brains, fused together into one giant esper computer, a single giant esp-blocker, and more besides. It's controlled by the worms that previously controlled the prisoners—Wormboy's legacy. They're hot-wired into the brain tissues at regular intervals, monitoring and maintaining the thought processes. The worms have formed a crude gestalt that enables us to communicate with the construct directly via the brains' telepathy. It calls itself Legion.'

'The esper minds,' said Toby slowly. 'Are they… alive in there? Aware of what they've become?'

Bartok shrugged. 'No one knows for sure. They're part of something greater now.'

Toby moved slowly closer, till his face was almost pressed against the glass. He could sense Flynn not far behind him, quietly getting it all on film. The horror Toby felt at what had been done to thousands of defenseless people silenced him for a moment, but already he was working furiously on how best to present it to the viewing public. They were going to want to know everything about this… abomination, and he was the only one who could tell them. He brought his thoughts firmly under control. You couldn't let your feelings get in the way of a good story. Every reporter knew that.

'Why is it called Legion?' he asked finally.

I am Legion, because I am many. The psionic voice rang inside Toby's head like the rotting vocal cords of a month-dead corpse, forcing its way into his thoughts. It curled inside his mind like a poisonous snake, writhing and coiling and leaving a slimy trail behind it. It was a pitiless, brutal invasion, a violation of the mind, and Toby wanted to be sick. Just its presence in his head made him feel unclean. He fought for self- control as the voice continued.

I am everything I was before, and more, far greater than the sum of my parts. No esper can stand before me. Their screen shall fall, and I shall feast on their minds. I will take them into me, and suck them up. And Mistworld will drown in blood and suffering.

Legion spoke in many voices, simultaneously, a horrid chorus of clashing accents. They were loud and quiet, harsh and shrill, all at once, an unnatural mixture that was disturbingly inhuman. And in the background, like a distant sea that came and went, the sound of thousands of damned souls, screaming in Hell.

'Who… exactly is talking to me now?' said Toby, fighting to hang on to his professional calm. 'The esper brains, the worms, the gestalt? What?'

But Legion didn't answer, and suddenly its presence was gone from Toby's mind. The relief was overwhelming. Toby stumbled backwards, desperate to put some space between him and the awful thing in the tank. Flynn was quickly there, with a supporting hand under his arm. In the end, surprisingly, it was Ffolkes who answered Toby's questions, in a shaken, quiet voice.

'We don't know who talks to us. We think Legion is still working out its own nature. All we know for certain is that it is conscious and aware, and growing stronger all the time. It should have no problem destroying any psionic screen the Mistworlders can raise against us, and without that they'll be helpless.'

'Just how strong will it get?' said Toby, his voice a little steadier now the thing was out of his head.

'We don't know,' said Bartok. 'But you needn't worry. Physically, Legion is quite helpless. It couldn't survive for a second outside its tank. Without our tech support, and the chemically saturated plasma it floats in. Legion couldn't exist at all. It's quite dependent on us, and it knows it.'

'But you still don't know what it really is,' said Flynn quietly. 'What it's capable of.'

'I'll tell you what it is,' said Bartok, smiling for the first time. 'It's a weapon. A weapon I can use to crush Mistworld once and for all.'

Some time later Lieutenant Ffolkes, having escorted Toby and Flynn safely back to their quarters, made his way hurriedly to another part of the ship, and knocked quietly on a particular door, using the code he'd been given. The door opened almost immediately, and he slipped inside. He was sweating, and his hands were shaking. Special computer overrides were supposed to be in operation, hiding him from the security systems, but he had no way of knowing whether they were working or not. Once the door was safely shut behind him, Ffolkes was able to breathe a little more easily. He nodded to the room's only inhabitant, and Investigator Razor nodded back.

Razor was a tall and blocky man, with thick slabs of muscle and a patient, brooding face. His skin was dark, his close-cropped hair was white, and his narrowed eyes were a surprising green. The Investigator seemed calm enough, but Ffolkes wasn't fooled. He knew Razor didn't want to be here. He'd had a perfectly good life as Security chief to Clan Chojiro, until the Empress had decided that Investigators would no longer be allowed to work for the Families, retired or not. Instead, all Investigators of whatever age or status were brought back under direct Imperial control. Razor had been a rich and influential man under Clan Chojiro; now he was just another Investigator, older and perhaps a little slower than most. But the Empress had wanted him for the Mistworld mission, so here he was. Even though he didn't believe in suicide missions anymore.

Which was why Ffolkes was there.

Razor had been seconded to the Defiant because he had worked closely with Investigator Topaz in the past. He'd been her mentor and instructor, in the days when the Empire was still trying to decide whether an esper Investigator was a good idea or not. Topaz's defection and flight to Mistworld had answered that. Razor had been exonerated of all blame, but no one objected when he applied for early retirement. This was supposed to be a second chance for him, a chance to prove his worth and his loyalty, by using his old acquaintance to get close to Topaz where no one else could. And then he would kill her. No one asked him how he felt about this. Investigators weren't supposed to have feelings.

'You have instructions for me?' said Razor quietly.

'Yes,' said Ffolkes, looking around the Investigator's bare, spartan quarters so he wouldn't have to meet the man's cold, inflexible stare. 'I will be your contact with Clan Chojiro. I'm related through marriage. I'm to tell you that you have not been forgotten, and that the Family will reward you handsomely for your work here on its behalf. I'm here to brief you on Captain Bartok's intentions, once Legion has taken care of the esper shield.

'We could just scorch the planet from orbit, but Her Imperial Majesty has decided she wants Mistworld taken, not destroyed. Partly because she still sees espers as potential weapons in the coming war against the aliens, and partly to prove no one can defy her and get away with it. She wants the rebel leaders brought before her in chains, so everyone can see them broken and defeated.

'So, Bartok's orders are for systematic but not total destruction of Mistport. Up to 50 percent civilian casualties are acceptable. The city is to be taken street by street, by hand-to-hand fighting if necessary. All of which means that the city will be plunged into total chaos and confusion, which we can then take advantage of. Once you've dealt with Investigator Topaz and Typhoid Mary, you will be free to make contact with certain influential people, whose names and addresses I have here on this list. Memorize them, then destroy the list. These people were once part of an old spy network in the city, trading in information for the previous Lord Deathstalker. Since his death, a number of them turned to Clan Chojiro for protection and financial support. With the Family's support after the invasion, these people will become the city's new ruling Council. Your job is to keep them alive until the invasion is over.'

Razor nodded calmly. 'Seems straightforward enough. Any idea why Chojiro wants control of this misbegotten world?'

'I don't ask questions,' said Ffolkes. 'I find you live longer that way. But if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that the surviving espers could make a very useful cash crop, as well as a private resource. Clan Chojiro takes the long view. Good-bye, Investigator. I do hope we won't have to meet again.'

'You're afraid,' said Razor. 'I can smell it on you. What are you so afraid of, Lieutenant?'

'I don't know what you mean,' said Ffolkes. 'I really must be going. People will miss me.'

And then he was flung back against the bulkhead, Razor's sword at his throat. Ffolkes gasped for air, sweat trickling down his face. He'd never seen anyone move so fast. Razor brought his face close to Ffolkes's, and he didn't dare look away.

'Are you afraid of me, Lieutenant? That's good. You should be. If you breathe a word of my continuing connection to Clan Chojiro to anyone at all, I'll kill you. Do you believe me, Lieutenant?'

The edge of Razor's blade bit delicately into Ffolkes's neck, and a single drop of blood slid slowly down his throat. He didn't dare nod, but he managed a trembling answer in the affirmative. Razor smiled, took his sword away from Ffolkes's neck, and stepped back a pace.