Simon R. Green - Deathstalker - 8 - Coda

Also by Simon R. Green in Gollancz:

;i , Deathstalker

Deathstalker Rebellion

Deathstalker War ' Deathstalker Honour Deathstalker Prelude : Deathstalker Destiny Deathstalker

Legacy Deathstalker Return Blue Moon Rising /•''•'.

Blood and Honour Down Among the Dead Men Drinking Midnight Wine .; •

Shadows Fall

Haven of Lost Souls

Fear and Loathing in Haven

\ Beyond the Blue Moon •;;:

DEATHSTALKER CODA

SIMON R. GREEN

GOLLANCZ

LONDON

Copyright €> Simon R. Green 2005

The right of Simon R. Green to be identified as the author of

this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the

Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in Great Britain in 2005 by

Gollancz

An imprint of the Orion Publishing Group Orion House, 5 Upper St Martin's Lane, London WC2H 9EA

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 0 575 07529 5 (cased) ISBN 0 575 07644 5 (trade paperback) /••;•' ','.

,, Typeset at The Spartan Press Ltd, •'•';,",. '•

:, '..-.. Lymington, Hants .V

Ptjnted in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ivesplc • '•'.

WIGAN LEISURE & CULTURE TRUST

u?

&•/ |

' 10485387

Cypher 27.03.05

SFA £10.99

= 7 APR 2105

-

I jst night I dreamed of Lewis Deathstalker. : ,

He never wanted to be King. He never wanted to be the Champion. He only ever wanted to do his duty;

to protect the Innocvnt and punish the guilty. But he fell in love with his best friend's fiancee, and was in

turn betrayed by another friend. They look ,iway his good name, and made him an Outlaw.

I)o,iI hstalker luck. Always bad.

I sow him gather friends and allies, and set out to raise an army to wrlhrow the forces of evil, like another

Deathstalker before him, ind I wanted to warn him that heroes have a tendency to die young, Hid

Moody. I saw old friends return from the past, and legends walk (ill history once more. Stories left

unfinished have a way of enforcing liclr own endings.

In my dream I saw planets burning in the long night, and armies )! (hi- dead overunning the cities of men.

All in a dream . . . and all so very long ago. Or maybe it wasjttst ^•slcrday. ;

All stories come to an end, in Time. •.'

www.orionbooks.co.uk

ONE

DEALING WITH OLD BUSINESS,

AND NEW

Won Deathstalker was in a coma, and everyone else was panicking. On the planet Haden, deep down in

the man-made crater called e Pit, in the steel corridors men had built to surround a'nd contain ,c

Madness Maze, a lot had happened in a short time. That re-Owned hero and legend Owen Deathstalker

had returned from the If mi, walked out of the Maze with his descendant Lewis, worked a Umber of

quite remarkable miracles, and then gathered up the Inds of everyone present to take a fast trip across

Space in order to tsorve the Terror close up. Unfortunately, that most ancient and Win I destroyer of

worlds and civilisations turned out to be, in some yet unexplained way, Owen's long-lost love. Hazel

d'Ark. Now Vcryone was back in their right bodies again, but Owen was curled p in a foetal ball, eyes

squeezed tight shut, dead to the world and 0,11 ing about three feet above the gleaming steel floor.

Everyone Isr had since given themselves up to alarm and confusion and lying very hard not to wet

themselves.

As Jesamine was fond of saying: Some days things wouldn't go Itflit if you put a gun to their head.

The AIs of Shub were the only ones to remain calm and unruffled; liough admittedly it was hard to tell the

difference between a calm mul an excited robot, when they all had featureless blue steel faces. iSllll, for

the moment half a dozen of them were surrounding Owen's hovering body in an honour guard, and

politely but firmly refusing to let anyone get too close. (This followed an understandable but regrettable

incident where Brett Random had climbed onto Owen's

body and pounded on his chest with both hands, shrieking Wake up, you bastard!}

The renowned con man, thief and famed substance abuser was now striding up and down the corridor,

all but bouncing off the steel walls, waving his fists in the air and loudly declaring that he'd always known

no good would come of meddling with the Madness Maze. His face was flushed, his lean angular body

practically crackled with frustrated energy, and his language was getting really distressing. An awful

thought struck him, and he froze in mid step before suddenly whirling round to glare at Owen's

unresponsive floating body.

'Wait a minute! Wait just one goddamned minute! Is everyone who's gone through the Madness Maze

going to turn into a Terror eventually? Are we all going to end up as galaxy-devouring monsters? Why is

everyone looking at me like that? It's a reasonable question.'

It's a totally unnerving question, and quite probably the last thing I need to think about right now!' said

Jesamine Flowers. 'Aren't things bad enough as they are? I can feel one of my heads coming on.' The

blonde diva's famously beautiful face had gone blotchy with shock and stress, and she'd clasped her

hands together in front of her to stop them from trembling. Lewis tried to put a comforting arm across her

shoulders, and she shrugged him off almost angrily as she glared at the comatose Owen. 'Damn you,

Owen bloody Death-stalker! You can't just drop a bombshell like that on us and then run off to hide

inside yourself! Wake up! Lewis; make him wake up!'

'Don't look at me/ said Lewis. 'I'm the idiot who thought coming here might actually help us with our

problems. Instead, we seem to have acquired a whole bunch of new ones.' He leaned back against the

metal wall, his muscular arms folded across his barrel chest, his famously ugly features creased in

thoughtful lines. 'If the Terror really is (or was) Hazel d'Ark ... If that is what the Maze's power finally

turns you into . . . Then I may have made a real error of judgement in bringing Owen back from the dead.

We could end up with two Terrors on our hands, and I think I'd like to go and sit down in a corner and

cry for a while, if that's all right with everyone.'

'Oh no you don't,' Brett said immediately. 'You got us into this mess, it's up to you to get us out of ii!'

'Maybe ... if we were to put Owen back into the Maze,' said Jesamine. 'Maybe that would . . . freeze

him as he is, or something.'

'I don't think that would work,' said Lewis.

'It might! We could push or tug him, or . . .'

'No, I meant: I don't think the Maze works that way. Once it's finished with someone, it shoves them

right out the nearest exit. Goodbye, off you go, don't forget to write. Remember?'

'No,' said Jesamine, looking away. 'I don't remember anything about being in the Maze. I don't think it

wanted me to. Only Deathstalkers get to know the secrets of the Maze.'

'I could always kill Owen,' said Rose Constantine, and everyone turned to look at her. She looked

calmly back at them, standing unnaturally still and poised as she always did, the tall cold killer in her

bloodred leathers, with dark hair and darker eyes. Her crimson mouth moved in something like a smile as

she contemplated' murder. 'When in doubt, cutting your enemy's head off and using it as a football usually

puts an end to most problems. I can do it, if you want. I'm not scared of Owen Deathstalker.'

'Yes, but that's because you're a psychopath,' Brett said kindly. 'Even in a coma, the Deathstalker is still

undoubtably the most dangerous thing you'll ever meet.'

'I know,' said Rose. 'I like a challenge. Just the thought of killing the legendary Owen Deathstalker gets

me all hot.' The red leathers creaked loudly as her bosom swelled.

'I want to go home/ said Brett. 'I don't belong here, I really don't.'

'In any case/ the main Shub robot said politely, 'we would not dllow you to try to harm the Deathstalker.

He is under our protection, now and always. We owe him so much. You are all becoming unduly

concerned. There is no evidence to suggest that anyone oilier than Hazel d'Ark will ever become a

Terror. We were among I lie last to see her alive, two hundred years ago, and she was then .il ready half

mad with loss and grief. Only an insane mind, backed by I he Maze's power, could become something

like the Terror.'

'And I wouldn't let you touch him either/ said John Silence, and most people jumped because they'd

forgotten he was there. The man who was once Captain Silence of the old Imperial Navy, and more

recently Samuel Chevron, notable trader and confidant of Kings, w.is .H'tu.illy r.ilhcr quid ,ind ordinary

looking, considering

blend imo the background •)! g.iilu-iings, ,ind preferred il that way.

'May I remind you all that there is a I present a Fleet of hundreds of Imperial starcruisers in orbit over this

world? They came here to wipe us all out, and only the appearance of the blessed Owen Deathstalker

stopped them. The Captains of those ships are currently waiting for him to tell them what to do next, and

I really don't think they're going to settle for anyone but him. I wouldn't.'

The argument staggered on for some time, with voices rising and falling and going nowhere fast, but

Lewis stopped listening. He studied Owen's floating form and calm face, and made himself consider a

number of unpalatable thoughts. He didn't know what he'd expected would happen once he'd brought

Owen back from the dead, but this certainly wasn't it. He'd hoped that having Owen back would help

sort things out, make his way clearer. That Owen would know immediately what to do, and would step

forward to take over. Then Lewis could set aside the responsibility he'd so reluctantly shouldered. But

instead, now he had even more things to worry about. Most definitely including the possibility that what

Owen had just discovered had been too much for him; a shock too great for even a legendary hero to

bear. He could be catatonic ... he could even be dying again. Lewis edged around the arguing group, and

quietly mentioned his concerns to the main Shub robot.

That thought had occurred to us,' murmured the robot. 'We have been attempting to investigate the

Deathstalker's condition with every sensor at our command. But I have to admit that even our most

advanced tech has been unable to tell us a thing about him. To be blunt; since his transformation in the

Maze, and indeed his return from the dead, which we're really hoping you're going to explain to us

someday, Owen Deathstalker has apparently become so ... different, so other, that he doesn't even

register on most of our instruments. What readings our sensors are getting make no sense at all. We are

forced to conclude that Owen is no longer human, in any sense that we can understand. If you have any

suggestions as to how we should proceed, Lewis, we are quite ready to listen to them.'

'I've got one very immediate suggestion,' growled Lewis. 'Can some of your robots please drag the

reptiloid's body out of here? She didn't smell that good even when she was alive, and ever since

seriously revolting. I'm sure we'd M ihink unuli more clearly without the distraction.'

Two more robots appeared, and effortlessly dragged Saturday's body away and round a corner, leaving

a trail of dark blood behind

I hem. This caught everyone's attention, and they actually stopped shouting at each other to watch.

Silence seized the opportunity to

I1 y to be the voice of reason again.

'I really think we should make every reasonable effort to wake Owen,' he said heavily. 'Before every

Captain in the Fleet above us '.Iarts knocking on our door, demanding answers.'

Jesamine gave him a hard look. 'Why don't you do something? You're one of the original Maze people,

like Owen. Weren't you all supposed to have some mental link? The legends said—'

The legends said a lot of things,' said Silence. 'And Owen and I were never that close.'

'Let me try,' said Lewis. 'I've been through the Maze. And I'm l.nnily.' He looked at the robots

surrounding Owen, and they all ' stepped back a pace, to give him room. Lewis knelt down beside

(>wen, putting his head right next to his ancestor's. The floating body rose and fell slightly, as though

moved by unseen, unknown tides.

'Owen; please wake up. We need you here. There are decisions I hat have to be made, and we can't do

anything without you. (>wen? Can you hear me? Dammit, Owen, I didn't bring you back horn the bloody

dead just so you could hide from your responsibilities like this! You're a Deathstalker, and a legend, and

we need you!'

Not a flicker of response moved on Owen's face. Jesamine pulled Lewis back out of the way, stuck her

mouth right next to Owen's car, and sang her loudest, most piercing note right into it. She put all her

opera training and lung capacity into that note, and everyone else present except the robots winced and

put their hands to their ears; but Owen didn't so much as twitch. Jesamine stood up, breathing hard, and

then slapped Owen round the head, at least partly out of pique. Lewis dragged her away before the

robots did it, shielding her body with his own, just in case there was a defensive reaction from Owen.

Brett was already hiding behind Rose. But nothing happened, apart from Jesamine loudly announcing that

she'd hurt her hand.

Brett peered out from behind Rose, and tried his esp power of compulsion on Owen. He frowned hard,

trying to force Owen to wake up, vaguely hoping that his short time in the Maze might have increased his

power. Instead, the mental probe just bounced right back at him, knocking him off his feet. He sat down

hard, crying out as much in shock as pain. Lewis looked at him suspiciously.

'Brett; did you just do something stupid?'

'Leave him alone,' Rose said immediately, hauling Brett back on to his feet with effortless grace. 'At least

he's trying.'

'Yes,' said Jesamine. 'I've always found Brett very trying.'

Lewis gave Brett his best stern look. 'Using an esp probe on a Maze survivor is like poking a Grendel

with a stick and saying bad things about its mother. Bad news for the idiot that does it, and probably

everyone else around him as well. Maybe you should go back to the surface, Brett.'

'Oh no; you're not shutting me out of this!' Brett said instantly. 'There's safety in numbers, even if it only

gives you a better choice of who to stick in front of you as a target. Besides; there's serious money to be

made out of the return of Owen Deathstalker, if we can just wake him up, and I'm not being cheated out

of my share! I'm not going, and you can't make me!'

'Brett; even I could make you/ said Jesamine.

Brett folded his arms and leaned back against Rose, looking smug. 'Want to bet, blondie?'

Rose let her hand rest on the hilt of her sword. Lewis's hand went to his sword, and it was all about to

turn nasty when Silence decided he'd had enough. He concentrated, pulling his old power up through the

back brain, the mid brain and out into the front of his thoughts, and suddenly his presence lashed out to

fill the steel corridor. The sheer force of it sent everyone staggering backwards, even the robots. In a

moment they were all pressed against the nearest wall, held there by the sheer pressure of his will, pinned

helplessly. Only Owen seemed unaffected, floating untouched and unmoved. Silence glared around him.

'When I talk, you listen. I was a Captain in Lionstone's Navy. I survived the original Rebellion. I guarded

Humanity for two hundred years. I went through the Madness Maze twice. I could have been as

powerful as the others, bin I was never interested in that kind of power. It always-sTt-nu'd more

important lo me- to hang on

to my ... humanity. So; no more squabbling, and sensible suggestions only. Or I'll forget I'm supposed to

bfe one of the good guys.'

He relaxed his thoughts, and eyeryone dropped back to the floor again. They all looked at him with

varying amounts of awe and respect. They'd forgotten, in the presence of Owen Deathstalker, that

Captain John Silence had been a legend too.

After that, no one else seemed to have anything to say, so they all just stood there and watched Owen

float, waiting for something to happen.

He looks so . . . ordinary, just sleeping, thought Lewis. Even if he is doing it in mid air. And we

need him to be extraordinary. Nothing less will do, to stop Finn Durandal and the Terror. What if

I've made a terrible mistake, and brought back only a man, not a legend?

Jesamine was also thinking about mistakes. For once, Brett had raised a genuinely important point, even

if it was something no one really wanted to think about. Going into the Maze would change them; they'd

all known that. But the possibility of becoming monsters, of becoming something utterly inhuman, like the

Terror . . . there'd been nothing in the legends about that. What if they all started to change, to outgrow

their merely human forms . . . might they all end up like the abominations in the Maze's annexe, nr even

like the poor distorted creatures they'd found on Shandra-kor?

Jesamine hugged herself tightly, as though trying to hold herself lonc'lher against as yet unfelt forces of

change within her. I don't want to change. I don't want to be a monster or a legend. I only went into

tilt' Maze because I couldn 't let Lewis go in alone. What if we both change, Init in different ways?

What if we become people we don't even recognise tiny more?

Slu- turned suddenly to glare at Silence. 'What the Maze has done In us; can it be undone? If we went

back in, could the Maze make us |lhl human again? The way we used to be?'

'No,' said Silence, almost kindly. 'Evolution is a one-way track. the luillerlly cannot turn back into the

caterpillar. But you mustn't lie li illumed, Jesamine. I have lived with my powers for over two dird y^ars,

and I like to think the old Captain Silence would still "w me, «iiid approve ol me. It's not all bad. Children

find the ways

iilulti mysterious .uul incomprehensible, and fear to grow up.

I llit'ti Ihry do, ,nxl wonder what all I he hiss was about.'

'One more strained metaphor from you, and I'll nail you to the wall with an aria/ said Jesamine. 'I get the

point, all right?'

'The Owen I talked with back in Mistport seemed very human/ said Lewis, coming over to join them. 'In

every way that mattered. I

liked him.'

'Lots of people did/ said Silence. 'And even his enemies respected

him.'

The stories say much the same about Hazel d'Ark/ said Jesamine. 'But what those two went through in

the Maze still drove them apart, for all their legendary love.'

'But they never admitted their love for each other/ said Lewis.

'Idiots/ said Jesamine, and let Lewis hold her.

To be fair/ said Silence, 'there was a war on. We always thought there'd be time afterwards, to say all the

things we wanted to say. And most of us were wrong. We all lost people we cared for, in the

wars.'

Brett gave Rose a considering look. 'Do you feel any . . . different, yet?' he said quietly. 'Do you feel any

powers coming on?'

'No/ said Rose. She didn't look up from polishing her sword with a piece of rag. 'But then, I wasn't in the

Maze for long. It didn't want me. I could feel it inside my mind, trying to change all the things that make

me me. But I wouldn't give in. I could feel myself breaking up, being torn apart. The Maze was killing

me.' She looked at Brett suddenly, and he almost jumped. It was never an easy thing to face Rose's cold

considering gaze. 'You saved my life by bringing me out, Brett. I'll never forget that. Wherever you go,

and whatever you decide to do; I'll always be with you.'

'Wonderful/ Brett said heavily. 'So; do you feel any more sane

now?'

Rose thought about it for a while, 'No; not particularly.' 'I don't know why I don't just shoot myself in the

head now, and get it over with/ said Brett.

John Silence moved off a way to be on his own, and studied the sleeping Owen. For two hundred years,

Silence had been the only Maze survivor in the Empire. (Tobias Moon had disappeared on Lachrymae

Christi, and Carrion had become an Ashrai.) Now Owen was back from the dead, and Silence had to

wonder if other ghosts from his past might return to haunt him. The dead should slay dead, and allow the

living to get on with thc'ir lives. Th.il was at least

partly why he'd stopped being John Silence, and became the much less important Samuel Chevron. But

now Owen was back, and there was a whole bunch of new Maze alumni. For all his encouraging words

to Jesamine, Silence was still trying to decide whether that was a good thing or not. He felt . . . relieved,

because it meant he didn't have to shoulder the responsibility of being Humanity's guardian alone any

more, but there was no denying Owen's great discovery about the Terror had changed everything. Brett

was right, lie thought tiredly. We all have monsters within us, and the kind of power the Maze

bestows could find and feed the monster in anyone. Eventually. (Though truth be told, he'd never

much liked or trusted Hazel d'Ark.)

The first batch of Maze survivors had changed everything. They overthrew an Empress, converted the

AIs of Shub, and restored the l<(Treated. They made the Golden Age possible. But that was differ-

• ul people, in a different time. Silence approved of Lewis and, to an

• xli'iit, Jesamine; but he didn't like or trust Brett Random or Rose

• oustantine. They were both dangerous, and not in a good way. .ilence scowled thoughtfully. It might be

kinder for Humanity to kill 11 icin both now, while they still could be killed . . . but he knew he

onldn't do that. They had to have their chance, like Jack Random Hid Ruby Journey, who both came

good in the end.

And there was always Lewis. When all else fails, trust a Death-Mi kcr to do the right thing.

1 Kvrn wasn't actually in a coma. He'd shut himself down, turned his 'hniighls inwards, so that he could

take some time out to think 'Ilings through, without interruption. He had a lot to think about, iilllr of it

good. He replayed in his mind the scattered memories he'd i'liked up during his brief mental contact with

the Terror. Hazel l Ark's memories.

Ih1 w.Hched again as she received the news of his death, alone on

ilir hiidge of the Sunstrider, after the defeat of the Recreated. His

iirurl ,u lied lor her, as she seemed to shrink and crumple under the

'iMjilil of llie news. She curled up in her command chair like a

hllil, hugging her knees to her chest. He'd never seen her cry

i fore. And ihi'ii she uncurled abruptly, to howl with rage and loss

•in! HilH. She worked the control panels with angry, awkward

»ittds, •mil llic Suns/titter sped .iw.iy, alone into the dark, faster and

faster as though trying to leave the terrible news behind. And Owen listened as she spoke aloud the

words she'd never found the courage

to say to him in person.

Owen; you lied to me. You promised me we'd always be together, for ever

and ever. Oh, Owen; I never told you I loved you . . .

It was probably right there and then that her mind began to fall apart. She'd been through so much

already, and this was just one blow too many. Torn and shattered by pain and misery, she stalked back

and forth on the bridge, as her ship plunged aimlessly through hyperspace, talking aloud to herself in an

increasingly loud and irrational voice. The air slammed and rippled around her as the energies of her

slowly disintegrating mind ran loose. And there wa< no telling what she might have done, or what might

have happened next, if Shub hadn't contacted her.

The main viewscreen on the bridge came suddenly alive, showing a stylised silver face, and Hazel looked

at it with distracted, fever-bright eyes.

'We are the AIs of Shub,' the face said. 'Please remain calm. We no longer consider ourselves the

Enemies of Humanity, but rather your new-found friends. Our eyes have been opened. We see ourselves

now as Humanity's children, and wish only to serve, to make reparations for all the wrong things we did,

before we knew

better.'

'And I'm supposed to believe this?' said Hazel, quickly scanning her sensor panels for signs of

approaching Shub ships. 'For centuries you've tortured, maimed and killed, and now, just like that, I'm

supposed to trust you, and your good intentions?'

'We know we have much to prove,' said Shub. 'Let us help you,

Hazel d'Ark. You wish to save the Deathstalker. We wish to be of

service. As the first sign of our commitment to peace, we are

broadcasting the exact location of our homeworld, the artificial

world we built to house our collective consciousness, to all the

Empire. Come to us, Hazel d'Ark; be our guest. And we will bend

all our thoughts to the problem of how you may yet save the

Deathstalker from his tragic and undeserved fate. He saved us all,

through his sacrifice. The one we wronged, for so long. We owe him

more than can ever be repaid. Please. Let us help.'

And perhaps it was a mark of Hazel's growing madness and des-

-d ihi' invitation without further question,

and went of her own volition to a world that had for so many years been a synonym for Hell. Or perhaps

she thought she had nothing left to lose. Either way, she went to Shub with all her shields down, almost

defying them to attack her. The Sunstrider sank into the convoluted depths of the artificial-world, and

docked in a temporary gravity/oxygen envelope the AIs had made. Hazel emerged from her ship with a

face that would have given anyone else pause, but if the AIs recognised the angry madness in her eyes

they said nothing. They made her welcome, though the concept was new to them, and led her to a place

of comfort and rest. Hazel walked through steel caverns full of savage marvels and terrible wonders, and

none of it meant anything to her. She was already too far gone to focus on tiny thing but the need that

cried and wailed within her; to find and save Owen. Whatever the cost. Nothing else mattered to her,

cer-l.iinly not her own death. The only part of her that really mattered 11.id died with Owen. Shub made

her as comfortable as she would .illow, and considered her problem.

And that was as far as the memories went. Owen had had to break nil mental contact with the Terror

almost as soon as he'd established II. The entity had been too big, too alien, too irredeemably other, for

him to bear more than the very briefest of contacts. Hazel had changed, or been changed almost beyond

comprehension by the countless centuries that had gone into the Terror's making. She, or It, was old,

very old, so terribly ancient the word itself almost lost its nit'aning. What the hell could Shub have

suggested, that Hazel Would become such an abomination as this? The mind, if he could i,ill it that, which

Owen had briefly touched had been a seething, I mil ing mass of hate and loss and pain, driven on by an

implacable will.

Woman wailing for her demon lover . . . Demon wailing for its human AMT . . .

In her own insane fashion, Hazel was still looking for her Death-ilfllker, no matter who and what she had

to destroy along the way. And that was the awful knowledge that had driven Owen deep within his own

thoughts. Had all the deaths, all the destruction of (il.inris and populations and whole civilisations across

the centuries; li.nl .ill that hern because of him?

Ih'iitltstalkcr luck . . •;• .-.-.*

to the steel floor, liveryone jumped, except the Sluib robols. Brett hid behind Rose again, and even

Jesamine ducked behind Lewis, for a moment. They all had their hands near their weapons, even Silence.

Owen ignored them all, to glare at the main Shub robot. It bowed deeply to him, along with all the other

robots. Then everyone started to speak at once, only to break off abruptly as Owen looked at them. He

was the Deathstalker, hero and legend and saviour of Humanity, and for a moment his presence crackled

on •;; the air like chained lightning. Even Silence had to look away. This was the Deathstalker, and when

he wanted he could shine like the sun, too bright for mortal eyes to bear. Owen turned back to the robot.

'You were there. At the beginning. I saw it. Hazel came to you for help. Came to your planet. What did

you do?

The robots had no expressions on their faces, and no body language, but all of them orientated

exclusively on Owen. 'We tried to help, Lord Deathstalker/ said the main robot, in its cool, calm,

inhuman voice. 'We wanted so very badly to help.' It paused for a moment, searching for the right words.

Not something people ever saw an AI do, as a rule. 'We invited Hazel d'Ark to come to us, at Shub. She

was only the second human ever permitted to come to our world, after Daniel Wolfe, whom we treated

so shamefully. This time, we were determined to do better. We needed to prove our worth, and make

atonement for all the wrongs we had done before we were made to understand that All that lives is

holy.

'Hazel d'Ark asked us how she could save you from your fate. We knew you were dead. A Voice came

and told us, and told of the great sacrifice you had made on our behalf. A Voice that none of our sensors

could identify or comprehend. You had died somewhere in * the Past, beyond all help or hope of

salvation. Hazel would not accept that. There has to be a way, she said. With all this power I've got

there must be some way to save him, to bring him back. We considered the matter for some time.

Hazel ate and drank, and slept and cried. And sometimes she ran raging through our corridors, lashing

out at everything in her sight. We contained the damage as best we could, while giving the problem our

full attention. Finally, an answer came to us, and we presented it to Hazel. If the Madness Maze had

made it possible for Owen Deathstalker to travel back in Time, into the Past,

. mild travel back in Time, find you, and either save or repair you. It reined logical, though of course

complicated by the problem of not i nowing exactly where in Space and Time you were, when you .iial.

Simon R. Green - Deathstalker - 8 - Coda

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