children over to the hole in the wall and out into the street beyond. Chance kept counting them over and over, to make sure he hadn't left any behind. All the children were screaming or crying or just shuddering helplessly. Legion's never-ending howl rasping through their minds like burning barbed wire. McVey stayed by the hole, counting heads as the last of the rebel HQ's people filed past him. He came up one short. He forced himself as close to the hole as he could, and stared through the flames into the blazing barroom. The dwarf Iain Castle was still sitting beside Lois Barren's body, crushed under the fallen timber. He was holding her dead hand in his, and rocking slowly back and forth. McVey yelled his name, and Castle looked around almost absently.
'Iain, get out of there! Leave her! There's nothing you can do!' McVey had to yell himself hoarse to make himself heard above the roar of the flames and the thundering engines of the gravity barges hovering overhead.
'I won't leave her!' Castle shouted back. 'I won't leave her here!'
'She's already gone! And if you don't get out of there now, you'll be going with her!' McVey made himself stay by the hole, though the sheer heat was raising blisters on his unprotected hands and face. 'Iain, please! I don't want to lose you, too!'
Castle nodded slowly, got to his feet, and stumbled across the smoke-filled room to the hole in the wall. He plowed straight through the fiery sides as though he didn't notice them, and lurched out into the street with flames rising from his clothes. McVey whipped off his cloak and wrapped Castle up in it, smothering the flames. Beside him, Jenny Psycho sat down suddenly, as though all the strength had just gone out of her. Her mouth was slack, and her eyes saw nothing. Not far away, Typhoid Mary and Investigator Topaz were still singing together, their voices and esp combining to create a shield over and around the rebels. Their voices rose and fell in studied harmonies, and a psistorm of energies crackled through the streets at their command, keeping the Empire forces at bay.
Donald Royal looked around suddenly, as he realized his partner hadn't come out with him. People were milling back and forth all around him, but there was no sign anywhere of Madelaine Skye. He pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed McVey by the arm. 'Where's Madelaine? Didn't she come out with you?'
'I didn't see her! I had my own problems!' McVey pulled his arm away, and Donald was left staring at the burning Blackthorn Inn. He moved toward the hole in the wall, screwing up his face against the blazing heat. The barroom was now a sea of flames, and thick black smoke boiled out of the hole. Donald's heart contracted painfully as he realized she must still be in there. Probably lost and disoriented in the smoke. He called her name again and again, but there was no answer. Donald's mouth firmed. He knew what he had to do. He pulled his cloak up to protect his face, and moved toward the hole in the wall.
But he stopped after only a few steps. The heat was just too much for him. He tried again and again, drawing on all his courage and resolution to force him past the flames, but his old body cringed back from the awful heat despite him, and would not go forward. Flames licked up around his cloak as the material caught fire, and sudden hands pulled him back, slapping at his shoulders to put out the flames. Donald fought the hands savagely.
'Let me go, dammit! Madelaine's still in there!'
'If she is, then she'd dead,' said Gideon Steel, holding him firmly.
Donald stopped struggling. 'If she's dead, then I want to die, too. She was my daughter, in every way that mattered. She's all I had left.'
'You can't die here,' said Steel. 'You're needed. You're a Councillor, an old and respected warrior whose name will still rally people. Don't you dare give up on me now. You've been telling us all what a hero you used to be for years. Now prove it, dammit! Prove it in a way that matters. You can't get back in there. No one could.'
'I could have, once,' said Donald Royal. 'When I was a hero. When I was young.'
And then one of the windows shattered as a body came hurtling through it, in a blazing mass of flames. It hit the cobbled street rolling, and stood up, throwing aside a blazing cloak. Madelaine Skye beat at her smoldering clothes with her hands, blackened and scorched but still very much alive. Donald lurched forward to take her in his arms, and she held him tightly to her.
'I got turned around in the fire and the smoke,' she said breathlessly. 'Didn't know where the hell I was, let alone the hole. Then I heard you calling me. You got me out, Donald. I owe you one.'
'No you don't,' said Donald. 'You're family.'
Cyder stood off by herself, a bottle of the good brandy still in her hand, and watched the Blackthorn burn. It had been her home and her safe haven and the repository of her dreams, but her face remained calm and cold. Her eyes were dry and her mouth was firm. Cyder didn't believe in being beaten.
'My lovely tavern,' she said, finally. 'You were going to make me rich, rich, rich.'
Jenny Psycho collapsed. Her strength had finally run out. Determination and willpower could carry her no farther, and her mind shut down. The psionic shield disappeared, and the disrupter beams from the hovering gravity barges slammed down into the tavern like God driving nails. The building burst apart, the ceiling crashing down as the walls collapsed, and the flames roared up in triumph. Mary and Topaz's song protected the small crowd from the fire and the flying debris. In seconds there was nothing left of the Blackthorn but a blackened frame in an inferno of flames. Steel knelt down beside Jenny, checked for a pulse, and raised an eyebrow.
'Amazing. She's still with us. Chance, get her out of here. Take her and your children to the esper union hall. They'll look after you. And they'll save Jenny Psycho if anyone can. Crazy woman. Bravest damned thing I ever saw.' He got to his feet and raised his voice above the din. 'All right, everybody scatter! You all know the secondary meeting place; be there in an hour. No excuses. Now move it!'
And so they all went their separate ways, helping those who needed it, carrying a few where necessary. They went in twos and threes, following the routes the Council had worked out earlier, just in case. They disappeared into the dark maze of narrow streets and alleyways, confident no Empire forces could follow them and not be hopelessly lost in moments. There was no talk of surrender. They were not broken, not beaten. And they had always known this was a fight to the death.
Soon they were all gone, apart from Typhoid Mary and Investigator Topaz. Their song still crackled around them, drowning out Legion's howl, keeping the troops at bay and covering their friends' escape. They were the two most powerful Sirens the Empire had ever produced, and they would not yield. And then suddenly, the pressure eased. The gravity barges moved on, their work done, and the troops fell back. Topaz and Mary stopped singing, conserving their strength. The world around them was still a chaos of flames and screams and battle cries, the thunder of gravity engines and the roar of collapsing buildings, but their particular part of the world seemed strangely still and quiet. As though some new force had entered the scene. Topaz and Mary looked at each other. Behind them, someone applauded slowly. They both looked round sharply, to find a tall dark man in an Investigator's cloak studying them calmly from the other side of the street. Topaz frowned. She should have heard him approach, even in all this noise and chaos. She should have known he was there. His sword and gun were still sheathed on his hips, but in one hand he held a length of steel chain, on the other end of which crouched a cowering naked man. He was painfully thin and smeared with filth, and his bare skin clearly showed the scars and marks of many beatings. The left side of his skull had been surgically cut away, to reveal the brain beneath, protected only by a clear piece of steelglass. Various plugs and jacks studded the brain tissues, and silver wires gleamed in the grey meat.
'Handsome fellow, isn't he?' said the dark man. 'He belongs to me. Investigator Razor, at your service. I've been sent to bring you back into the fold of Empire. Teach you to sing the right songs again. Spare me your protestations, please. They don't matter. You have no say in things anymore. This unpleasant wretch at my side has no name anymore, only a function. He's a living esp-blocker. One of the Lord High Dram's special projects, I believe. Being alive, and capable of following orders, he's much more powerful and versatile than the usual brain in a box esp-blocker. He's strong enough to function even under Legion's influence, and subtle enough that you didn't even notice our approach. I'm afraid you'll find your songs have quite deserted you now, ladies. So put aside your petty complaints and come with me. Your life in this place is over. You belong to the Empire again.'
Topaz drew her sword. 'I'd rather die.'
Razor drew his sword. 'That can be arranged. I get a bonus if I bring you both back alive, but money's never been that important to me. They'll settle for one live Siren and one dead traitor, if need be. And I always wanted to know which of us is better.' He dropped the length of chain he was holding, but the living esp-blocker stayed where he was. He would not move without orders.
Typhoid Mary backed away from the Investigator, shaking her head.
'I can't help you, Topaz. I'm sorry. I won't kill again. Not for any reason.'
'That's all right,' said Topaz, advancing on Razor. 'Just keep well back. You don't want to get any of his blood
