Deathstalker Honor

CHAPTER FOUR

Welcome to New Haden

The Sunstrider II dropped out of hyperspace a comfortably far distance away from Brahmin II, hidden behind every shield and cloaking device the small ship could generate. Brahmin II was currently occupied by the Hadenmen, and even the legendary hero Owen Deathstalker had enough sense to give Hadenmen plenty of room. He sat alone on the bridge of his ship, leaning tensely forward in his command chair, ready to give the order to get the hell out of Brahmin II's space at a moment's notice. But the moments slowly passed, and nothing of a sudden and extremely violent nature happened, and Owen finally relaxed a little and sank back into his chair, carefully studying the main viewscreen and sensor displays before him.

Brahmin II was currently surrounded by a dozen of the huge golden ships that had once waged war against the Empire, and had come uncomfortably close to winning. Under normal conditions a rich man's toy like the yacht Sunstrider II wouldn't have stood a snowball's chance in hell, but the Sunstrider II was special. The bulk of the yacht had actually been rebuilt by the Hadenmen themselves, who hadn't been able to resist adding their own little touches. Like the most powerful force screens ever seen on such a small craft. Owen still wasn't entirely sure what powered them. In fact, there was a lot about the ship's improved technology that he didn't understand, but together with Ozymandius, he had established enough of a working knowledge to use the Hadenmen shields to fool Brahmin II's Hadenmen sensors. At least theoretically.

So the Sunstrider II held its position, and Owen worried as he waited for some reaction from the golden ships, some sign they'd been spotted. Like massed disrupter fire. But all was quiet and remained quiet, and Owen let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. He wouldn't really have run, whatever the Hadenmen response. He couldn't. He'd given Parliament his word that he'd do everything he could to save the colonists of Brahmin II from the occupying Hadenmen. Owen sighed quietly. Somedays a reputation as a hero could be a real pain in the ass.

"The Hadenmen ships seem to be entirely at their ease, Owen," the AI Ozymandius murmured in his ear. "Weapon systems remain offline, and I'm detecting what appears to be only standard comm traffic. Though if pressed, I would have to admit that I cannot be one hundred percent sure of what they're actually talking about. Their machine language is unbelievably complex."

"Hardly surprising," said Owen. "Hadenman tech always was cutting-edge. But I think if they were sounding any alarms, we'd have known about it by now. There'd be these large holes in our hull, fires everywhere, and this terrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just looking at that many golden ships in one place makes me feel like hiding under my chair. Run a full range of sensor scans on the planet below, Oz. But very carefully. Back off immediately if you even sniff any resistance to your scans."

"I am not an amateur, Owen. Rest assured that at no time will they ever know we're here. I shall move among them like a ghost in the night, peering over their electronic shoulders like a thing of mists and shadows."

"You've been watching those ninja holodramas again. For an Artificial Intelligence, your viewing tastes have always tended toward the irredeemably vulgar."

"So I like a little trash and sleaze now and again. Who doesn't? It wouldn't do you any harm to relax your precious standards once in a while."

"Shut up and get on with it."

"Oh, right away, my mighty lord and master. Your trouble is, you don't appreciate me. I've a good mind to go sit in a corner and sulk."

"Oz…"

"All right, all right. Lift that barge, tote that bale. I'll get back to you when I've got something."

Owen waited for some final cutting comment, but the AI seemed to have finished. Owen promised himself that one of these days he was going to find the programmer who'd given Oz his distinctive personality, and then rip out the man's spleen and tap-dance on it.

Loud, heavy footsteps in the corridor outside announced Hazel's imminent arrival. And from the sound of it, not in a particularly good mood. So, thought Owen. No change there, then. He put on his most pleasant face as the bridge door hissed open just in time to avoid Hazel crashing through it. She came to a halt right in front of Owen, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him.

"All right," said Owen patiently. "What's upset you this time? The food synthesizers still incapable of turning out a decent bottle of wine? Though I really don't know why you keep tinkering with them. You know perfectly well you have no palate."

"Don't try to change the subject! You know very well why I'm upset. Why wasn't I alerted the moment we arrived at Brahmin II?"

"Because you were fast asleep with a Do Not Disturb sign posted on the computer. I did try sending a wake-up call. Three times, in fact. The last time you smashed the comm unit, and I took that as a hint you weren't really interested. Besides, there was nothing you could have done."

Hazel scowled and threw herself into a chair opposite him. "God, I hate it when you go all smug. I was entitled to get my head down for a bit after everything we've been through recently."

"Quite right. Now that you are rested, composed, and hopefully wide awake at last, perhaps you'd care for me to brief you?"

"Oh, go on. You live for moments like this, when you get to lecture people on things you know that they don't. But keep it short and succinct, or I'll throw things."

"We are currently in the vicinity of the planet Brahmin II," said Owen calmly. "Maintaining a safe distance from the planet and the twelve golden ships lying in orbit around it. Yes, twelve. Our shields seem to be working nicely. Brahmin II is occupied by our one-time allies, the newly revived Hadenmen. They have claimed the planet in the name of their Second Crusade of the Genetic Church. They bring the gift of transformation, from men into Hadenmen. Whether the men want it or not. Brahmin II has been renamed New Haden, and is now the new home and base of the augmented men."

"I got all that at Parliament," snapped Hazel. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Patience. I'm getting there. During the rebellion the Hadenmen took over a hundred and twenty thousand prisoners. These have since been transferred to New Haden to join the one and a half million colonists as captives. We have no idea of their current… condition. Parliament is demanding their release, but the Hadenmen didn't even bother to reply after their initial statement. And since the Imperial Fleet currently consists of maybe a dozen starcruisers held together with baling wire and prayer, the Empire is helpless to do anything to save the colonists and prisoners from their fate."

"So they sent us instead. Because we're expendable."

"Because we're heroes. And because we have a better chance than most of actually achieving something. Besides, it's my duty. I'm responsible for everything that's happened here. I woke the augmented men from their Tomb. Brought them back into the worlds of men, to walk in all their nightmares once again."

"We needed them," said Hazel almost gently, the anger gone from her voice. "We couldn't have won the rebellion without them."

"Maybe. And maybe all we've done is exchange one evil for another. Before the rogue AIs escaped and built Shub, the Hadenmen were the official Enemies of Humanity, and with good reason. Hadenmen. The Slaughterers of Madraguda. The Butchers of Brahmin II. Defeated, thrown back, safely bottled up in their Tomb. Until I let them out."

"You trusted them," said Hazel. "They gave you their word. They called you Redeemer and swore an oath of allegiance to you. They betrayed you."

"Of course they did. They know nothing of honor." Owen's head and shoulders bowed, as though weighed down by some great burden. "I never trusted them. But I needed them. So I let them out anyway."

Hazel leaned forward, one hand lifting as though she might reach out to him. "Owen…"

He lifted his head sharply, and Hazel pulled back her hand. He didn't notice. His face was calm and composed, and when he spoke his voice was all business. "You worked on Brahmin II once, before I met you, before the rebellion. What can you tell me about the place?"

"Not a lot," said Hazel, taking her cue from Owen. If he wanted to change the subject, that was fine by her. "Dismal bloody place, all hard work and discipline and damn few comforts. Not really surprising after what the Hadenmen did to it the last time they were here. I thought you might ask, so I took the time to pull up the computer records of the first invasion. They're pretty scrappy, mostly on-the-spot news coverage broadcast live, but it should give you some idea of how bad things were. You need to see this, Owen. I don't want you going down there with thoughts of negotiating or making deals. Force is all these bastards have ever understood."

She called up the records on the main viewscreen, and she and Owen sat side by side and watched history unfold before them. Golden ships filled the skies, shining brighter than the sun. Disrupter beams stabbed down, blowing apart buildings, starting fires that quickly raged out of control. The colonists had only a handful of attack ships for defense, and not one of them made it off the pads. The streets were choked with people, running and screaming, driven from what they'd thought were safe harbors by the unrelenting assault. Humanity routed, panicked, on the run.

And then came the ground troops. An army of Hadenmen hitting the streets, augmented, merciless warriors of the Genetic Church. They were tall and perfect, moving with inhuman grace, stalking the city streets unaffected by the heat and smoke, killing everything that moved that was not them. Steel angels flecked with blood, bearing the wrath of their cybernetic god. There was no pity in them and no hesitation, and they stepped calmly over the dead and the dying to get at those still running before them. They killed with guns and swords and their own augmented strength, ripping people apart, tearing their limbs away and smashing their heads against unyielding walls. The streets were full of screams, and blood ran thickly in the gutters, but none of that meant anything to the silent Hadenmen. They knew only logic and efficiency and the grim, unyielding destiny they brought to Brahmin II. The survivors would be transformed, and the dead harvested for raw material. Nothing would be wasted once they controlled the world. Men would become Hadenmen. Nothing else mattered.

The record tapes were often short and jerky, recorded by news cameramen on the run, trying to stay alive long enough to get their pictures out to the Empire. They were all dead now, but their testaments survived. And the scenes they had broadcast live had inspired a rage and a determination throughout the Empire to stop the Hadenmen and drive them back, whatever the cost. Brahmin II had been avenged. Eventually.

Owen frowned as the last of the tapes ran out and the viewscreen cleared. "I'd seen most of that before. When I was researching a paper, back in my historian days. But to see it all, added together… What happened to Brahmin II in the end?"

"When the Hadenmen knew they were losing the war, and they had no choice but to abandon Brahmin II, they paused just long enough to kill everyone they hadn't transformed. Everyone they could find. When Imperial troops finally touched down, all they found were bodies piled in the streets and a handful of survivors: women and children, hiding, overlooked. From a colony of millions, only eighty-three survivors. Most of them quite mad from all they'd witnessed. And that's what happened when the Hadenmen first came to Brahmin II."

"Dear God, Hazel," said Owen. "What have I done? What have I unleashed on the Empire?"

"We knew the dangers," said Hazel. "There was always the chance they'd changed. That they'd learned something from their defeat. Everyone deserves a chance at atonement, even Hadenmen. Right?"

"We might have won the battle only to lose the war," said Owen. "If we can't stop the new Hadenmen Crusade right here."

"Hold everything. We're going to stop the new Crusade of the Genetic Church and a whole damn army of augmented men? Just you and me?"

"Sure," said Owen. "We're invincible heroes, remember? You saw the movie."

"I have seen more realism in commercials by moneylenders," said Hazel flatly, then sighed heavily. "All right, tell me your plan. Tell me you have a plan, at least."

"I've been trying to come up with one all the way here," Owen admitted. "So far without much success. I think our best bet may be a frontal approach. Just walk into the main city and demand to speak to whoever's in charge. They claim to respect me as their Redeemer, since I opened their Tomb and brought them back to life. Maybe I can trade that against their need for this planet. Offer myself in place of the colonists. Or at least as many colonists as a Redeemer is worth."

"Weren't you listening to me at all, Owen? You can't make deals with Hadenmen. You deliver yourself into their hands, and at best they'll kill you. At worst they'll make you into a Hadenman. No, Owen, we're going to have to be a little more subtle than usual this time. We tried fighting an army on Mistworld and nearly died, for all our powers. We need a strategy, and that means more information about what's currently going on dirtside. Like how many Hadenmen there are, where they're situated, that kind of thing."

"I've got Oz scanning. Any luck, Oz?"

"Not a damned thing. There are shields everywhere. I can't even pick up something as basic as life signs. Whatever's going on down there, they don't want anyone to know about it."

"He says no," said Owen. "Which means we have to go down there in person if we're to get any new information."

"All right," said Hazel, scowling. "But we go in undercover, stick to the shadows, and keep our heads well down."

"I've been trying to explain that principle to you for what seems like years," said Owen. "I'm delighted to see some of my teachings have finally taken root."

"Don't get smug again," said Hazel. "I do have a few brain cells of my own. Look, we have one advantage that the Hadenmen don't. I learned a few things about Brahmin II's main city while I was working there. Unless these things have changed drastically in the years I've been gone, I should be able to sneak us into the main city unnoticed, so we can do a little clandestine spying. Sound good to you?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Owen. "I'm impressed. Really. Oz, put us into low orbit around Brahmin II, maintaining full power for all our shields."

"Damn right I will," said the AI. "Get comfortable. This could take a while. I'm going to have to very cautiously ease us through the Hadenmen ships surrounding the planet, and hope like hell our shields will hold up at close range. If they don't, I doubt very much that we'll get a chance to ask for our money back. Feel free to pray to any gods who might owe you a few favors."

The golden ships filled the viewscreen as the Sunstrider II edged slowly forward, slipping through the cordon like a minnow swimming among whales. The golden ships were vast and forbidding, bigger than cities and more dangerous, with enough firepower to back down an Imperial starcruiser, but one by one they slid slowly past, silent and unconcerned, knowing nothing of the slender silver needle slowly threading through the defenses. Finally the last Hadenmen ship fell behind them, and the Sunstrider II moved into a secure low orbit over Brahmin II. Hazel let out a triumphant whoop, and Owen stopped crushing the armrests of his chair with his hands.

"Well done, Oz," he said aloud. "Theoretically, I was pretty sure the shields would hold, but obviously I had no way of testing it in advance."

"Wait a minute," said Hazel. "What exactly made you so sure? Do you know something about this ship that I don't?"

Owen smiled just a little condescendingly. "You seem to have forgotten this ship was rebuilt by the Hadenmen. Since we know they incorporated their advanced tech into other parts of the ship, it seemed only logical that they would also have rebuilt the ship's shields to their own exacting standards. Seems I was right."

"Well, yes and no," said Oz in his ear. "The shields were powerful enough to hide us from the golden vessels, but the Hadenmen have much more powerful devices dirtside. Their sensors punched right through our shields the moment we emerged inside the protective blockade. Luckily, I was able to back up our shields with a little creative thinking. When you had me take over control of this ship from the original—and I might add, highly inferior—AI that the Hadenmen installed to run things, I was able to access all kinds of interesting information in its memory banks. Using the old Al personality as a mask, I was able to slip unobtrusively into the computer nets down on the planet, and instruct them not to register our presence. The program I've set running won't last forever, but it should last more than long enough for you and Miss Death-on-two-legs to make your investigation below. Feel free to applaud and throw roses."

"Well done, Oz," said Owen. "I didn't know you could do things like that."

"There's lots you don't know about me," said Oz airily. "I am large. I am magnificent. I can work miracles."

"Don't you start getting cocky too," said Owen. "Keep monitoring our shields and your program, and let me know the instant there's any sign they've been detected. Now, what's the situation on our sensors? Can you use your computer link to sneak us some information on the planet's surface?"

"Don't see why not," said Oz. "Of course, it does increase the probability that someone's going to notice my program sooner rather than later."

"Tough. I need information. Show me what's going on down there."

"You've gone all quiet again," said Hazel. "And your face has gone through all kinds of changes. Are you talking to that ghost AI again?"

"Ah," said Owen. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was subvocalizing. Oz has found a way to run sensor scans on the planet's surface. And he's not a ghost."

"Then how come you're the only one who can hear him?"

"She's got a point," said Oz.

"Shut up, Oz," said Owen. "Look, maybe it's something to do with the Madness Maze. He was there in my head when we all went through. Maybe the experience… changed him."

Hazel sniffed. "I still say it's damned spooky."

"I couldn't agree more," said Oz. "I try not to think about it too much. Otherwise I start worrying about awkward questions like where the hell my hardware is these days."

"We can argue about the nature of existence later," said Owen firmly. "Sometime when we're not surrounded on all sides by a whole army of cybernetic killers. Now, put the sensor scans on the main viewscreen, dammit."

"All right, all right," said Oz. "Sensor displays coming right up."

"Colonization never really got started again here after the first colony was wiped out," said Hazel as they waited for the first pictures of the planet's surface to come in. "Population never really rose much above a million. Local ecosphere is pretty bleak, making farming difficult, and the mines are hard work, without much in the way of payoff. And after the Hadenmen attack nobody would volunteer to come here. Eventually the powers that be had to promise extra land, higher bonuses, on-site troops, and permanent Fleet protection. They really wanted those mines working again. In the end, enough of the truly desperate allowed themselves to be persuaded by the new package to make a new start on Brahmin II, and the colony was up and running again. Only the Fleet had to be called away during the rebellion and never went back. And while we were all preoccupied with other things, the Hadenmen just walked right in and took control all over again. The colonists were sitting ducks. Poor bastards. It must have been their worst nightmare come true."

"Another price we paid for victory," said Owen. "Another mess for us to clear up. And something else for me to feel guilty over. Sometimes I wonder why I started out on this road."

"Because otherwise you'd have been killed. Don't beat yourself up, Owen. There's any number of people back on Golgotha who'd be only too happy to do it for you. We overthrew the Iron Bitch and put an end to a system based on oppression and brutality. In the end, that justifies everything we had to do."

"Everything?" said Owen.

"Damn right," said Hazel.

Owen looked back at the viewscreen and changed the subject. "I wonder why the Hadenmen came back here. Everyone knows why they wanted a rich prize like Madraguda. But from what you've said, it's hard to see what makes Brahmin II so attractive. What do they mine here? Anything important?"

"Not really," said Hazel. "Some minor minerals. Useful stuff but not valuable."

"So what brought the Hadenmen back here to make it their new base? What makes Brahmin II so special?"

"You got me," said Hazel. "Maybe that's one of the things we need to find out on our little trip dirtside."

The viewscreen finally flashed up the first pictures, and Owen and Hazel fell silent as they saw what the Hadenmen had done to Brahmin II this time. The cities had been devastated, blown away by concentrated disrupter fire. Not even ruins remained, only shallow craters in the earth. The only exception was Brahmin II's main city and starport, still standing, but the Hadenmen had put their mark on that too, transforming it into something new and alien with strange structures and unfamiliar technology.

"This is worse than the last time," Owen said finally. "A scorched-earth policy for the outer cities, and then setting up shop in the main city. They're here for the long term. And I made it all possible."

"Will you stop putting the weight of the universe on your shoulders!" snapped Hazel. "Not everything that happens is your fault. Let's concentrate on the matter at hand, namely sneaking into the main city, getting our information, and sneaking out again with all our important parts still attached. Anything else can wait till later. When we know what's going on here, we can come back with what's left of the Fleet, launch a surprise attack, and open up with everything we've got. That'll wipe the smile off their faces."

"We can't leave," said Owen. "Look at those figures on the side of the screen. Those are life-sign readings. The majority of the population are still alive, and being held in the main city. A human shield against Empire intervention. The Hadenmen have always understood human weaknesses, even if they don't share them. We have to rescue the colonists. We're the only hope they've got."

Hazel sighed. "There's always something, isn't there? Why can't things be simple anymore?"

"They never were," said Owen. "Except in retrospect. And the movies. How well do you know this city?"

"Very," said Hazel. "Our one lucky break. This is the city I was planning on breaking into anyway. I used to work there; it was the capital and main administrative center. Even ran the mines from there."

"Then that's probably why the Hadenmen preserved it. What's it called?"

"Brahmin City. They weren't the most imaginative colonists I ever ran across."

"Then take us down, Oz. Find a landing place reasonably close to the city outskirts, but far enough away that a boundary patrol won't stumble over us."

"Shouldn't be a problem," said Oz. "As far as my scans can tell, there are no border patrols. Nothing's moving outside the city. Damned fools are relying entirely on their sensors. Hadenmen always did put too much faith in tech. Hold on to your chairs. Here we go."

The Sunstrider II fell slowly out of orbit, drifting down like a solitary silver leaf unnoticed in the forest. Owen and Hazel studied the viewscreen intently as Brahmin City finally loomed up beneath them. New buildings rose among the old, tall silver shapes with sudden bulges here and there. Outgrowths of brightly shining tech piled on top and around each other, as though they had grown to their present shapes rather than been planned and constructed. The battered city looked as though it had been infected by some vast silvery parasite, shooting up in every open space and choking the old human remnants of the city that was. The Hadenmen were building themselves a new home, and there was nothing human in its form or nature. Nothing at all.

They parked the Sunstrider II in one of the lesser craters, all that was left of one of Brahmin City's suburbs. Owen and Hazel disembarked with gun and sword in hand, just in case Oz was wrong about the border patrols, but all was still and silent. No birds sang, no insects buzzed, and nothing at all disturbed the dusty air. Owen looked slowly around him, taking in the desolate landscape. It was every shade of gray, from scorched earth to beaten stone, and nothing lived in it for as far as the eye could see. A cemetery plot with no grass, no flowers, and no headstones, and nothing left of the dead to bury. The end of time will look like this, thought Owen. When we are all gone and life itself is gone to dust. It reminded him very much of Virimonde, and he wondered if he was always fated to arrive too late. Just once he would have liked to be a savior rather than an avenger. He put away his sword and gun. They felt small and useless in the face of so much death and destruction.

Hazel was mooching around, kicking the gray ground to see the dust rise up in clouds and slowly settle. She had also put away her weapons, and looked distinctly annoyed that there'd been no one around for her to use them on. Owen took in a breath to call to her, and then coughed harshly as the dust floating in the air irritated his throat. The air everywhere was thick with it, a shifting gray haze like the ghosts of powdered buildings. It was even thicker higher up in the atmosphere, and the light of the falling sun shone through it in a gorgeous haze of faded colors, like a rainbow bought secondhand from a market stall.

"Come on, Owen, there'll be time for sightseeing later." Hazel was impatient as always. "Brahmin City is just over that ridge on the horizon. An hour's walk tops."

Owen fixed her with a suspicious gaze. "You said you knew a way into the city that the Hadenmen probably wouldn't have covered. Are you ready to discuss that yet?"

"Well," said Hazel, not meeting his gaze. "It's a way in, but you're not going to like it."

"I haven't seen a single thing about this planet that I've liked so far. What's wrong with this way in?"

"It's… through the sewers."

"Of course," said Owen. "It would have to be, wouldn't it? How come you know about it?"

"My job here was part of city security. The rebuilding of the colony was finally getting under way, with new cities springing up everywhere, but the cost was going way over budget, and I mean way over. So they hired a whole bunch of security experts with nasty, suspicious minds to find out where all the money was going. Sounded like an interesting job when I took it, but it turned out to be mostly paperwork and computer time. But I got there in the end. I hacked into files I wasn't supposed to know about, and found hard evidence that one of the main contractors was working a scam with one of the main unions. The contractors arranged for extra overtime, none of which was actually done, and the contractors and the union bosses split the take between them. None of the poor working slobs ever saw any of that money, of course.

"Just as I was getting ready to lower the boom on the bad guys, someone finked me out, and contractors and bosses grabbed their ill-gotten gains and did a runner. I ended up chasing them clear across the city and out through the sewers, to where they had a ship waiting. Anyone else, they might have made it, but having to run that far had put me in a really bad mood. But would you believe it, after all that hard work, the city fathers gave me only a measly bonus of a hundred credits a head? And I had to supply the heads as proof. Luckily I had them to hand… What are you smiling at?"

"It's just… I find it rather hard to see you as an agent of law and order," said Owen. "Still, I bet no one jaywalked while you were around."

"Anyway," said Hazel with great dignity, "even though the Hadenmen have been doing a lot of rebuilding aboveground in Brahmin City, I'll bet good money they haven't touched the sewers. Hadenmen have no need for toilets, remember? One of the most alien things about them, if you ask me. So, we go in through the sewer outlets, follow the path I used, and just pop up now and again to see what's happening. If we're sneaky enough, and fast enough, the inhuman bastards'll never know we're there."

"I just know I'm going to catch something awful," said Owen. "But it does sound like a plan. Lead the way, Hazel."

They set off toward the jagged ridge rising on the horizon, clouds of gray dust puffing up with every step they took. They both coughed painfully at first, as the dust sank into their lungs, but after a while they used handkerchiefs to improvise masks for their mouth and nose, and the going got a little easier. Owen hoped fervently that Hazel's handkerchief was a lot cleaner than it looked.

They plodded on across the gray landscape, moving in a drifting cloud of disturbed dust, their footsteps eerily muffled, their feet banging hard against the unyielding stone. There were no landmarks, and the ridge just sat there ahead of them, never looking any closer. Owen started talking again, even through a handkerchief, just to keep from going crazy through boredom.

"If I'm recalling this correctly," he said as distinctly as he could, "you said you got fired from your job here, and you actually had to leave Brahmin II in somewhat of a hurry. What went wrong? I would have thought after exposing a scam like that, they'd have given you the keys to the city."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" said Hazel "But, unfortunately, it turned out the graft went a lot higher than I knew, and they got me fired before I could prove anything against them. Framed me for excessive violence, fired my ass, and kicked me off-planet. Bastards."

"So… if the city leaders are still alive, they're not necessarily going to be too pleased to see you?"

Hazel snorted. "Don't be daft. If they're still alive, they'd be so desperate for help they'd welcome Valentine Wolfe and Kid Death."

"I take your point. Pick up the pace, Hazel. That ridge isn't getting any closer, and it's already heading into evening. I want to be in and out of Brahmin City before night falls. I get the feeling things get pretty spooky around here once darkness falls."

"Yeah," said Hazel. "Got to be a lot of ghosts around here. Maybe we can help them rest a little better."

They finally got to the ridge and climbed to the top. On the other side, at the bottom of what had once probably been a pleasant valley, lay Brahmin City, its gleaming silver towers glowing brightly in the gathering evening. From far away came the sound of endlessly working machinery, from a city that no longer slept. Owen and Hazel made their way carefully down the far side of the ridge and into the valley, and Hazel led them straight to the sewer outlets, a series of great metal pipes protruding from the sides of what had once been a roughly cut canal. No water ran at all now, but the smell from the pipes was still pretty bad. Hazel strode back and forth before the pipe outlets, studying them with a deepening frown.

"What's the problem?" said Owen after a while.

"Give me a break, Deathstalker. I'm trying to remember which pipe is which. I was only here once, and that was years ago. I choose the wrong one, and we could end up going around in circles."

"Wonderful," said Owen. "Oz, you got any ideas?"

"Of course," murmured the AI immediately. "Through my ongoing link I have access to all the city's computer records, and they have extensive maps of the city's entire sewage system. You want the largest opening, on the far right. Follow that, and it will take you right into the main system, with openings all over the city."

Owen relayed this information to Hazel, who nodded reluctantly. "Sounds right. Okay, follow me in and stay close."

She pulled herself up into the wide metal opening and crouched there a moment, peering into the gloom beyond. The pipe was about eight feet in diameter, the lower part coated with a thick black residue. "Smells even worse than I remembered. And I don't even want to think about what I'm standing in. There used to be a lighting system in these pipes, for the sewer-maintenance people, but I can't see any switches."

"Allow me," said Oz. Light suddenly appeared in the roof of the pipe, running away into the distance. The small green globes shed an eerie light, and there were wide patches of shadow and darkness.

Hazel sniffed loudly. "Oz showing off again, is he? Tell him to check for any old security alarms in the pipes. Or any new ones, come to that."

"I'm on it," said Oz. "As long as I'm still linked in, I have complete control over what the city computers register."

Hazel straightened up and strode determinedly down the pipe. Owen steeled himself against the stench and followed her. The thick black gunk on the floor squelched loudly under his feet and made the going treacherous. Owen hoped fervently that there weren't any leaks in his boots. There was some kind of slime caked on the walls too, and Owen was careful not to reach out to them for support.

He lurched and stumbled on after Hazel, who made her way slowly but carefully down the pipe, ignoring the first openings she came to, and then diving without hesitation into a turning on the right that looked no different from any of the others. Presumably her memory was coming back. Owen followed her, and found himself in a system of smaller brick tunnels, barely six feet in diameter. The walls had been scrubbed clean sometime in the not too distant past, but the floor was still pretty disgusting. Hazel hurried on in the lead, following a map in her head that she hadn't consulted in years. Owen could have asked Oz to check if they were going the right way, but he didn't. He trusted Hazel.

The flat green light made it hard to judge distances and details, and there seemed to be a haze in the air. The smell was so bad by now it left a constant furry feeling in the mouth and nose. God only knew what conditions must have been like when actual sewage ran through these tunnels. Owen increased his pace to walk alongside Hazel, and they strode on in silence for a while, turning as Hazel thought necessary. The only sound in the tunnels was their boots on the sticky floor, the air too still even to allow an echo.

"I'm surprised we haven't seen any rats yet," Owen said eventually. "I mean, wherever there are sewers, you find rats, even in the most salubrious parts of the Empire. Which this isn't."

"No self-respecting rat would set foot in a sleazebag operation like this," said Hazel. "But I take your point. There was certainly something scuttling in the shadows the last time I was down here."

"Maybe they all left when the sewage ran out."

"Or maybe the Hadenmen put poison down."

"Yeah," said Owen. "Maybe."

They pressed on through the increasingly narrow tunnels. The curving brick walls all looked pretty much the same, but Hazel still seemed fairly confident about where she was going. Owen didn't have a clue where he was, and the unbroken quiet was beginning to grate on his nerves. The shadow-filled openings in the tunnels they passed began to seem more and more to him like watching eyes and hungry mouths, and he was increasingly troubled by the conviction that there was something down in the tunnels with them, watching and waiting. He concentrated, calling up the enhanced hearing the Maze had gifted him with, and suddenly his ears were full of the crash of his and Hazel's boots on the floor, the rustle of their clothing, and the rushing sound of their breathing. He faded them out and listened to what was left. And there, far ahead, right on the edge of his hearing, was a slow, solid drumming sound, like the beating of a giant heart, and the murmur of regularly disturbed air.

Owen quietly caught Hazel's attention and tapped his ear. She concentrated and then frowned as she heard it too. They drew their guns and their swords and moved cautiously forward, checking each tunnel opening they passed. The sounds gradually grew louder, till the tunnel floor seemed to shake beneath their feet in rhythm to the steady heartbeat ahead. And then they rounded a corner and stopped abruptly as they came face to face with a giant steel fan filling the tunnel from floor to ceiling, its massive steel blades churning around and around, though the sewage it had been intended to stir up was long gone. Hazel gave Owen a hard look, and they put away their weapons. They both glared at the fan. There was clearly no way past it, and the heavy blades swept inexorably around much too quickly to try dodging past them.

"They must have added this after I left," said Hazel.

"Oz, any chance you can shut this thing down?"

"Afraid not," said Oz. "Power is either on or off. No cutouts."

"I could have told you that," said Hazel when this information was conveyed to her. "They cut every corner they could when they were building this place."

"If we could stick to the matter at hand," said Owen. "Oz, shut everything down, and we'll climb through in the dark. Then you can power up again."

"Ah," said Oz. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid. The power system is so unstable, I'm not a hundred percent sure I could start the power back up again at all."

"Wonderful," said Owen.

"Look," said Hazel. "It's just a lump of metal, when all is said and done. Let's blow it away. A couple of point-blank disrupter blasts should do the job easily."

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you," Oz said hurriedly. "It's all I can do to keep the city systems quiet as it is. Even I have my limits. You start setting off alarms down there, and all hell will break loose."

"Hold everything," said Owen. "You told me you had the city computer jumping through hoops and doing what they were told. What's changed?"

"Well," said Oz reluctantly, "it seems I might have been a little overoptimistic in my initial projections. The Hadenmen have revamped the city computers far beyond their normal capabilities, and they've been… fighting back for some time now. I can just about maintain the status quo, but you set off any alarm for any reason, and you are strictly on your own."

"Wonderful," said Hazel when Owen broke the news. "I told you not to put your trust in ghost AIs. All right, we can't shoot it. What does that leave? If we took a really good running start and dived between the blades—"

"They're just heavy enough and sharp enough to cut us in two," said Owen. "And I don't think even we could regenerate from something like that."

"All right, let's just rip the damn thing out of its setting. We're strong enough, together."

"That would be bound to set off an alarm. I don't want to emerge from the final tunnel to find half a hundred Hadenmen waiting, armed to the teeth with Hadenmen weapons."

"Then you think of something! You're supposed to be the brains in this partnership! You think, I hit things; that's the way it's always been."

"I think better when people aren't screaming in my ear," said Owen mildly. Hazel sniffed and turned her back on him. "Oz, is there another route we can take that will let us bypass the fan?"

"Afraid not. There are fans like this throughout the system. Whatever route you take, you're going to run into another fan eventually."

"On the other hand," said Hazel, turning back suddenly, "every now and again I get the occasional good idea. Owen, back in Mistport you tore a whole building apart just by thinking about it, right?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"But nothing. How did you do it?"

"Damned if I know, really. I just got angry enough, and the power came to me. A lot of the Maze's changes emerge only when I get mad or desperate enough."

Hazel nodded quickly. "Yeah, same with me. I get angry enough in a fight, or pushed hard enough, and my alternates start popping in out of nowhere to save my butt. But your power sounds a lot like a polter's psychokinesis. If you could call up that power and then crank it right down, concentrating it just on the fan, I'll bet you could slow those blades right down without damaging the fan, and we could step through safely. Then you could let go, the fan would speed up again, and everything would be back to normal, all without setting off any alarms. Right?"

"Right," said Owen. "That is an excellent idea, Hazel. Really. The only problem is, I haven't the faintest idea how to call up my power, let alone control it. When you get right down to it, we've never really understood what the Maze did to us, or how we do the things we do. Mostly because we haven't had the time."

"We could have made time," Hazel said slowly, "if we'd wanted to. But we've—okay, I've—never liked discussing the Maze, or what we might be turning into. We're not espers. Esp couldn't do some of the things we've done. Hell, there are miracle-working saints who'd have trouble following our act."

"As in so many things," said Owen, "we learn by doing. Like a child learning to walk."

"We should have discussed this long ago. Who knows what we might be capable of?"

"Exactly. Who knows what extremes, of good or evil, we might prove capable of. Who knows… what we might be becoming?"

They looked at each other for a long moment. "Are you saying… we might become monsters?" said Hazel.

"Sometimes I worry we already are," said Owen. "We all did… questionable things during the rebellion. You, me, Jack, and Ruby. Because we thought they were necessary, justifiable. And that was for a good cause. Now we've been cut loose, no one to answer to but ourselves, because nobody has the power to stop us if we choose not to be stopped. I find that frightening sometimes. Power corrupts, and the Maze has made us so very powerful. I fear what we might become. What we might let loose without even realizing. That's why I've always tried not to use my powers unless I absolutely had to. Because I had so little control over what I might do, or become. I've always struggled to stay within human limits. To stay human."

"I don't feel any different," said Hazel, frowning. "I've done… remarkable things, but I'm still me."

"How could you tell?" said Owen gently. "How could I tell? Neither of us were born heroes, or ever intended to be, but we made ourselves over because we had to change to survive. We became legends because the rebellion needed legends. What else have we made of ourselves because we thought it necessary?"

"I wish you'd stop asking questions you know damn well neither of us can answer. We just did what we had to, same as everyone else. Look, we have come a long way from the original question, and this sure as hell isn't the time or the place for a philosophical discussion. I am standing in stuff I don't even want to think about, breathing green-tinted air that is probably doing unthinkable things to my lungs, directly under a city crawling with Hadenmen, who would be only too happy to rip off both our heads and make them into plant containers. We can discuss all this mystical shit later. Right now all I care about is whether you can slow these bloody fan blades down enough for us to get past them. Will you at least give it a try, dammit?"

"Of course I'm going to try," said Owen. "But we will continue this discussion at a later time."

He turned his attention back to the churning fan blades. They looked large and solid and completely unyielding, and he didn't have a single clue how to affect them. He felt none of the anger or need that usually sent the power raging through him like a violent storm, sweeping away his obstacles. And even when he did have it, he had all he could do to focus it in the right direction. Focus… The word reverberated in him, suddenly full of significance. He turned his thoughts inward, blanking out the tunnel and the fan, trying to concentrate on how it had felt when he focused the power, and a memory slowly surfaced. He seized hold of it, pulling it into the light, and the concept, the feeling of focus, stirred in the depths of his mind. It was like suddenly seeing a whole new color, hearing a new musical instrument, but more abstract than that. A whole new concept of experiencing the world. And a surge of power pushed its way out of the back brain, the undermind, and all the way into his conscious thoughts, where it immediately became as obvious and familiar a thing as breathing.

He reached out with his mind as he might stretch out his hand, and touched the metal fan blades. They slowed under his touch, trembling as they fought against a force they could not resist, and then slowed still more till they were barely turning.

The central motor groaned loudly, like a thing in pain. Hazel pounded him on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

"You did it, Owen! You did it!"

"Damn right," said Owen. "Now stop inflicting bodily injury on me, and climb through before the fan decides it's malfunctioning and sets off an alarm."

"Alarms, alarms," said Hazel, stepping cautiously between the barely moving steel blades. "You're obsessed with alarms."

"One of us has to be," said Owen, following her between the blades. He then released his will, and once again the blades resumed their normal speed. The feeling in his mind quietly shut down, retreating back into the undermind, the back brain. But now he knew where to look, he was sure he could call it back again. If he felt it… necessary.

"So, what did it feel like?" said Hazel interestedly.

"Like dancing," said Owen. "Or painting. Mental grace under discipline. Bringing the raw material of the world into order. Does any of that help?"

"Not a bit," said Hazel. "Right, let's get a move on. We should be nearing the entrance to the main system soon, and then we'll have access to any part of the city we want."

"Good," said Owen. "I can't wait to breathe some fresh air again. My lungs feel like ashtrays."

"Before you start off again," Oz murmured in Owen's ear, "there is something on that subject I feel we should discuss. According to a file I've just discovered in the city computers, there's a reason why the air in the sewers is so foul. It's poisonous. A rather deadly nerve gas, introduced into the systems by the Hadenmen, to kill off whatever might be living down there."

"Poisonous!" said Hazel after this had been passed on to her. "But we've been breathing it for ages! Why aren't we dead yet?"

"A fair question," said Oz. "And one that has been much on my mind ever since I discovered the file. By rights, all the flesh should have melted off your bones by now."

"It must be another of the Maze's changes," said Owen. "Emerging in us when we needed it. As usual. Just another way in which we're no longer human."

"Don't start that again," growled Hazel. "It's the first really practical change the Maze has come up with. Keep moving. We've a way to go yet."

They set off down the tunnel again. Owen tried breathing shallowly for a while, and then gave that up on the grounds it was too late now anyway. The rest of the journey was largely uneventful, until they reached the entrance to the main system and found their way blocked by a massive steel seal. A single great slab of solid metal, it filled the tunnel completely, and defied even their combined strength. Owen and Hazel took a step back, breathing heavily, and considered the matter.

"This was only ever supposed to be closed in emergencies," said Hazel, "to prevent flooding in the main system. It's a mechanical lock, because electronics and water don't mix too well, and I haven't a hope in hell of cracking the locks without very specific heavy-duty equipment."

"The Hadenmen shut it," said Oz. "To keep out people like us probably. Since the lock's not electronic, I can't help you. And the even worse news is that while there appears to be a manual override, it takes four people to operate it, working simultaneously. Security again."

Owen and Hazel checked the four hand controls, simple wheels set at the four corners of the slab, but no matter how hard they stretched, their arms didn't even come close to reaching more than one wheel at a time. It had to be four people. Hazel kicked the seal disgustedly, leaving a small dent in the metal.

"Stupid bloody thing. I didn't come all this way just to be stopped by a bloody lump of steel. Stand back, I'm blasting the bastard thing."

"You'd need a disrupter cannon to get through something this big," said Owen. "And then there's the alarms—"

"I am getting really tired of hearing about the alarms. I am not wading all the way back through the sewers, Owen. Either you come up with something, or I am blasting the seal and risking it."

"All right, I may have an idea," said Owen. "We got past the fan by fine-tuning my power. How about trying the same thing with yours?"

Hazel looked at him. "Run that past me again. How could my power help us here?"

"Well, you can summon an army of alternate selves to back you up in battle. Maybe if you concentrated hard enough, you could call up just two, and have them stick around long enough to work the other controls."

"Damn," said Hazel. "That is bloody brilliant! I take back everything I said about you. I'm not sure it's practical, but it's certainly worth a try."

She stood frowning at the floor for a long time, trying to concentrate. Like Owen, her power usually emerged only under great stress. In the heat of battle, when she needed her other selves to be there, they just were. Hazel had no idea why some alternates turned up rather than others, or even what they really were. The best guess seemed to be that they were other versions of herself from different time tracks, people she might have been if history had gone differently, but she had no proof for that. None of them had ever stuck around long enough to answer questions. It was equally possible that all the other Hazels were just figments of her imagination, somehow given life and substance by her Maze power. It made just as much sense.

The more she thought about it, trying to re-create how she'd felt during those past battles, the more it seemed to her that there was a direction she could reach in, a direction as real as any other, but not limited to the world she lived in. She reached out, and myriad ghosts with her face seemed to sense her presence and turn their heads in her direction. She concentrated on her need for just two people, and two hands reached out to take hers. There was a sudden puff of displaced air in the tunnel, and suddenly two new women were standing in the tunnel before her, hacking and coughing in the green-tinted air. Hazel shot a triumphant glance at Owen, and then realized his jaw had dropped down almost to his knees. Hazel frowned and turned back to look at the two other selves she'd summoned.

The woman on the left had skin so black she looked like a living shadow, and her hair hung in beaded shoulder-length dreadlocks. She wore bright silver body armor, chased and scored with magnificent runes, along with gold accessories like knee pads, elbow guards, and knuckle dusters. She had a gun on each hip, and was holding a short-handled ax. Tall and almost unbearably voluptuous, she looked every inch a proud, capable warrior woman. And yet there was something in her stance, in her face, and in her eyes and mouth that was undeniably Hazel d'Ark.

The woman on the right had dead-white skin, and in the green light looked very much like a corpse that had risen from the embalming table when the process was only half finished.

She was dressed in scraps and rags of leather, held together by brightly polished lengths of steel chain. She had rings in her ears and nose, and other less comfortable places, and there were metal studs, needles, and other piercings scattered practically everywhere else on her body. She was whipcord lean, every muscle clearly defined, and her head was shaved bald to better show off the rows of steel studs implanted in neat rows in her skull. She wore a long sword on one hip and an unfamiliar make of gun on the other. Both looked like they'd seen a lot of use. And yet, once again, the face and eyes were clearly that of Hazel d'Ark.

Two ghosts, in black and white, shades of people Hazel might have been if things had gone very differently.

For a long moment the four of them just stood there and looked at each other with varying degrees of incredulity, and then Owen turned to Hazel. "Tell me you didn't summon these two on purpose."

"Now, there's a fine welcome," said the black warrior woman in a deep rich voice full of humor. "And after I came such a long way to meet you. I'm Midnight Blue. Is that really another version of me?"

"Well, that's one way of putting it," said Owen. "I'm—"

"Oh, I know you, Owen Deathstalker," said Midnight Blue. And then she lunged forward and threw her arms around him, still holding her ax, and crushed him to her impressive bosom with enough strength to drive the air from Owen's lungs. He'd just started to get his balance back when she suddenly pushed him away, sheathed her ax on her belt, hauled off, and slapped him a good one right across the face. The sound of the impact was deafening. Owen reeled backward from the force of the blow, and might have fallen if Midnight hadn't grabbed him in a hug again, tears starting in her eyes.

"Well," said Hazel, "you always did know how to make a strong impression on people, Deathstalker." She looked at the pierced white apparition. "Do you have any idea what's going on here?"

"None at all," said her alternate in a chilling contralto. "I'm Bonnie Bedlam, by the way. Are you sure you're me?"

"Apparently. I'm Hazel d'Ark. Look around and see if you can spot a crowbar we can use to pry these two apart."

Midnight Blue held Owen out at arm's length and smiled at him tremulously. "Owen, you bastard! How could you leave me? Oh, it's so good to see you again!"

"May I please point out," said Owen in a slightly breathless voice, "that I am not the Owen you knew."

"Of course not. He's dead. But you'll do."

Midnight didn't say for what, and Hazel didn't think she was going to ask. She looked at Bonnie Bedlam. "Do you know Owen as well?"

"I should hope so," said Bonnie in her cold voice. "We're married where I come from."

Hazel decided she wasn't ready to ask about that, and looked back at Midnight Blue, who had put Owen down and was pulling his clothing back into place with little tugs and pats, while Owen just stood there and took it, afraid to do anything that might set her off again. She finally finished and smiled at Owen almost shyly.

"Sorry about that. It was just… the shock of seeing you alive again."

"Well, if you want him to stay that way, I should lay off the hugs," said Hazel dryly.

"I think we could all use a little recent background history here," said Owen tactfully. "Obviously your lives have taken very different paths from the Hazel I know. Why don't you start, Midnight?"

"The rebellion's been over for some time," said Midnight Blue. "It's a mess everywhere. Billions dead, whole planets destroyed or thrown back into barbarism. You were killed, Owen, when Lionstone destroyed Golgotha with her hidden planet-buster bomb. Jack and Ruby died with you. I was the only Maze survivor left to try to start things running again. I should have been there with you, to confront Lionstone in her Court, but I walked out on you all when Jack made his deal with the Families. I couldn't stand for that. Ruby almost left with me, but in the end she chose to stand with her Jack. And die with him, as it turned out.

"After the rebellion I tried to hold things together, but too much had been destroyed. And I never was any good at politics. So eventually I said to hell with them all and took off on my own. I'm back as a pirate again, running my own ship, the Faust. Lots of opportunities for a pirate in an Empire thrown into chaos. But I missed you so much, Owen. So when I heard the call, I jumped at the chance."

"That's very… sweet," Owen said carefully. "But I'm not necessarily the Owen you knew. After all, you're very different from my Hazel…"

"Yes," said Midnight, looking at Hazel just a little disparagingly. "You really do need to work out more, dear."

"How about you?" said Owen, turning quickly to Bonnie Bedlam. "Did I hear you right? We're…"

"Married, yes." The tall, slender woman smiled at him, showing pointed front teeth. "We've been together almost two years now. You look a lot like my Owen. Before the piercings. And the tattoos. Golgotha survived in our rebellion, but unfortunately, so did the politicians. We tried hard to make a difference, but in the end we just got tired of banging our heads against all the lies and the corruption, and we took off on our own. We run Mistworld now. Doing a pretty good job, if I say so myself. It's a smaller stage, and we can make more of a difference there. The Empire's going to hell in a handcart, but then, it always was. We were stupid to think we could ever change the system.

"Jack was killed in a bomb blast outside Parliament. Ruby killed a whole bunch of people she blamed for his death. She's on the run, with a price on her head. Last I heard, she was happy enough, running Blood on Madraguda. How about you?"

Owen told their story, with Hazel interrupting. When Owen was finally finished, Bonnie shrugged a few times, her piercings clattering attractively, and then fixed Owen with her gaze.

"So much for the potted histories. Let's get down to business. What are we doing here? Why did Hazel choose us?"

"I just put out a call," said Hazel. "And you were the two that answered."

"I came because I wanted to see Owen again," said Midnight.

"And I… was looking for a little action," said Bonnie, smiling her disturbing smile. "Mistworld's got too damned civilized of late."

"Wonderful," said Owen. "So… what abilities did the Maze give you?"

"I'm a teleporter," said Midnight. "If I've been somewhere, I can go there again in a moment. Otherwise, I'm limited to line of sight."

"Very useful," said Hazel. "What about you, Bonnie?"

"I regenerate," said Bonnie. "Any injury, big or small, in a matter of seconds. Nothing can stop me. I just keep coming." She lifted her left index finger to her mouth, and calmly bit off the end, down to the first knuckle. The other three made sharp involuntary noises of distress. Bonnie just smiled, chewing unhurriedly. After a moment she swallowed and spat out the bone. Owen felt his last meal starting to come back up. Midnight and Hazel were both hanging onto his arms painfully tight. Bonnie held up the finger she'd bitten. It had already stopped bleeding. As the others watched, a new fingertip pushed its way out of the stump, complete with a new fingernail. In a moment the finger was good as new, with nothing to show it had ever been damaged. "Ah, what a rush," said Bonnie Bedlam. "I love it." She looked at Owen. "And where I come from, so do you. Darling."

"I have seen some truly disgusting things in my time," said Hazel. "And that was very definitely one of them. I don't know whether to puke or applaud."

"I think she'd probably take puking as a form of applause," said Midnight.

"We haven't time for either," said Owen, in what he hoped was a firm, calm voice. "Very impressive, Bonnie. Please don't do it again. Now, why don't we all move on to the matter at hand, namely opening this bloody seal so we can get into the city proper and start looking for the Hadenmen's captives?"

"You've got Hadenmen here?" said Midnight Blue, looking sharply at Owen. "Where I come from, they vanished right after you freed them from their Tomb. Ungrateful bastards."

"What the hell's a Hadenman?" said Bonnie Bedlam. "I've never heard of them."

"Cyborgs," said Hazel shortly. "Powerful, treacherous, and very nasty. And there's a whole city full of them right above us. They've got human hostages. Lots of them. If they're still alive…"

"That's what we're here to find out," said Owen. "And, hopefully, to work out a practical plan for rescuing them."

"Assuming we don't get horribly killed in the process," said Hazel.

"Sounds like fun," said Bonnie. "Is it okay if I kill a few of these Hadenmen?"

"Kill lots," said Hazel. "Feel free."

"After we've got the information we need," said Owen firmly. "Spying first, killing later."

"Don't worry, Owen," said Midnight. "A warrior always understands the need for subtlety. Am I not a thing of mists and shadows?"

"Don't you start that," said Owen. "I get enough of that stuff from my AI. If we do encounter any Hadenmen, I want all of us to make an effort not to start anything. There's always the chance this has all been a hideous misunderstanding. And even if it hasn't, maybe I can talk them into doing the right thing. They do claim to respect me as their Redeemer. And they did fight on our side during the rebellion."

"Does your Owen make long, boring speeches as well?" asked Hazel, and both alternates nodded solemnly.

"The Hadenmen made our rebel victory possible," said Owen loudly, ignoring Hazel. "How did you two manage without them?"

Midnight shrugged. "Slow and hard and bloody. Lots of people died. Lionstone always said if she went down, she'd take the Empire with her, and she came bloody close to succeeding."

"Right," said Bonnie. "The Iron Bitch and her Fleet made us pay heavy for our victory."

"You see, Owen," said Hazel gently. "You did do the right thing, after all."

"Only if we can put a stop to whatever they're doing now," said Owen. He wasn't ready to forgive himself yet, but he did take some small comfort from the thought of how badly things might have gone without his Hadenmen allies. He pointed out the four manual controls on the metal seal, and the four of them slowly cranked the massive weight open. Once the heavy bolts had withdrawn, the seal swung open remarkably easily. They left it standing open, just in case they had to make a sudden retreat in a hurry, and then Owen led the way into the narrow brick tunnel beyond. Within a few minutes they came to a simple steel grill set into the tunnel ceiling, through which light from above shone down in rigid shafts, cutting cleanly through the green haze of the sewer. The four of them clustered beneath the grill, but could see nothing beyond.

"We must be right under the street," said Hazel. "Somewhere on the outskirts of the city. Want to pop up and take a look?"

Owen thought about it. "How far are we from where you entered the system the last time?"

"Miles," said Hazel. "Well within the city proper."

"We go up," said Owen. "Less chance of Hadenmen this far out. Stand back while I do the honors."

The metal grill gave easily under Owen's hand, and Hazel gave him a boost up through the opening. He pulled himself up and out into the street, and looked quickly about him, eyes squeezed up against the light. The street was empty, and utterly quiet. Owen gave the all-clear, and took a closer look around as the others clambered up into the street to join him. They made a lot of noise, but there was no one there to hear it. No one at all.

The green-tinted haze drifted up out of the opening, slowly dispersing. Hazel kicked the grill back into place. All four of them took deep, satisfying breaths of the clear, slightly chilly city air as they looked around them, getting the vile stench of the sewers out of their mouth and nose. Owen and Hazel hadn't actually gotten around to telling Midnight and Bonnie that the green air was poisonous, and since they were still alive and well, there didn't seem much point now. They stamped their boots on the ground, trying to shake off the worst of the thick black gunk they'd been treading through, but were only partially successful. And yet despite all the noise they'd made, still no one came to investigate. Owen gave up trying to hush the others, and went back to looking about him.

They'd emerged right on the edge of Brahmin City, in an area apparently as yet untouched by the Hadenmen modifications. The buildings were just buildings, and there was no trace anywhere of the shimmering Hadenmen tech. The street was deserted, empty, with not a sound anywhere, nothing to show that people had ever been there. And despite the gathering evening, none of the street lamps had come on.

"Damn, this is spooky," said Hazel. "There ought to be someone about. Somebody working. I mean, cities don't run themselves."

"Human cities don't," said Owen. "There isn't even anyone looking out the windows. Even the most oppressed and subservient captives ought to have enough gumption left to peek out their windows to see what's going on."

"Want me to kick in a few doors?" said Bonnie.

"Not for the moment, thank you," said Owen. "We're here to rescue people, not terrorize them."

"It must be getting dark inside those houses," said Midnight. "But no one's put on any lights yet."

"Maybe it's forbidden," said Hazel.

"Maybe there's no one home," said Owen. "Maybe they've all been… taken somewhere."

"I'll tell you something else," said Midnight, after they'd all thought about that one for a while. "There's no transport running anywhere near here. We'd hear it if there was. Wherever we're going, we'll have to get there on foot."

"We can do that," said Hazel. "It's not that big a city."

"Hold everything," said Owen. "When I first suggested a spy run into Brahmin City, I had in mind something a little more surreptitious than just strolling around in broad daylight."

"Owen," said Hazel, "there's no one here to see us. And I for one have no intention of going back into that sewer for anything short of incoming fire. And pretty damn heavy fire at that. As long as we keep our ears and eyes open, no one's going to be able to sneak up on us in this quiet."

"I hate it when you're right," said Owen. "Okay, let's take a little walk, see if we can find someone to answer a few pointed questions. Weapons at the ready, people, but don't open fire unless you have to. We're good, but I'm not sure even we could take out a whole army of Hadenmen. Personally, I'd still like to get in and out of this city without being spotted, but if we have to make contact with the Hadenmen, I still favor trying some kind of negotiation. Maybe we can make them see that even they can't take on the whole Empire, even if it is weakened at present."

"Good luck," said Hazel. "You're going to need it."

Owen sniffed, and set off down the street. Midnight moved quickly after him, and slipped her arm chummily through his so they could walk together. Owen looked a little embarrassed, but didn't try to pull away. Partly because he didn't want to be rude and upset her, and partly because he wasn't entirely sure Midnight would let him. She had a particularly muscular arm. Hazel and Bonnie strolled after them, both smiling at Owen's discomfiture.

"Is your Owen as much a stuffed shirt?" said Hazel.

"Some," said Bonnie. "But I've been working on him. He's loosened up a lot since we got married. What's your Owen like between the sheets?"

"We… haven't made that kind of commitment yet," said Hazel.

"What's commitment got to do with it?" said Bonnie. "I'm talking about sex, not love. Hell, I bedded my Owen less than twenty-four hours after I first met him. He was so cute… I couldn't keep my hands off his aristocratic ass. And men are always so much more reasonable when they're getting their ashes hauled regularly. Try it."

"I'll bear it in mind," said Hazel.

"So," said Owen to Midnight. "What was your Owen like?"

"A hero, though he never wanted to be," said Midnight. "Impulsive, hardheaded, and too damn brave for his own good. He never cared about the odds; as long as it was for the cause, he'd jump right in with both feet and cut down anything that moved. A warrior, like all his Family."

"Doesn't sound a lot like me," said Owen. "I only fought when I had to, when there was no other way."

"My Owen… faced a harder fight than you. Our war was long and hard, and brought out the beast in all who fought in it. My Owen was a man of blood and destiny, who stormed through the battlefield in search of slaughter, grinning like a wolf. He lived for combat, never happier than when snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. He liked the long odds. He said they helped to even out the advantages the Maze had given him. The Deathstalker was always an honorable man, in his way. We had whole planets to avenge, and we knew nothing of mercy anymore. War was hell, and so we made ourselves into demons. We were warriors then, and life was so simple. If only the rebellion had never ended. We could have been happy forever."

They walked on in silence for a while. Midnight had said all she had to say, and Owen was damned if he knew what to say in reply. He knew what she meant, about the beast. He'd felt it stir within him, the blood-drenched rage that cared nothing for causes or honor, that lived only for the knife-edge adrenaline rush of the battlefield. But he'd always fought it down, because he was a scholar, not a warrior; a man, not a beast. He wondered if Midnight's Owen had been very different from him, if he wore the mark of the beast openly, with pride. Or if they could have looked upon each other and seen only their own face looking back. Owen shivered suddenly. He often wondered how much the rebellion had changed him, whether it had turned him despite his wishes into the vicious warrior his Family had always wanted. But now it seemed he could have gone much further down that road than he had. Just as Midnight Blue was the perfect fighting machine Hazel might have become if things had been different.

"You don't approve, do you?" said Midnight suddenly. "I can tell."

"Our lives… have followed very different paths," said Owen. "God knows I've done enough shameful things in my time. I don't judge anyone anymore. I don't have the right."

Midnight withdrew her arm from his. "You're not my Owen. He always judged, sorting the guilty from the innocent. And he was always right. There's no room for indecision in a warrior, no place for shades of gray on a battlefield. No room for weaknesses in a love like ours."

She increased her pace and walked on alone. After a while Bonnie Bedlam strode past Owen to join her fellow alternate, pausing only to drop Owen a wink as she passed. Owen managed a small smile. Hazel moved up alongside him.

"That is one dangerous woman," said Owen, staring at Midnight's armored back.

"You should try talking to Bonnie for a while," said Hazel. "She scares the crap out of me."

"I can't believe the sheer amount of metal she's got stuck through her skin," said Owen. "I mean, some of those had to really hurt. There are probably augmented men with less steel in their bodies. And she says her Owen did it too!"

"She also says she's married to you."

Owen shivered. "I'd be better off with a Grendel. And I don't know what you're smiling at. She is just another version of you, after all."

Hazel shrugged. "No doubt there's also some other me happily married with six kids, and never wields anything more dangerous than a butter knife. Now, that's scary. But it doesn't bother me. I know who I am."

"But they're both pretty… extreme," said Owen. "Can we trust them? Can we rely on them?"

"You got me," said Hazel. "But if push comes to shove here, we're going to need them. Besides, they know we know this universe better than they do. I think they'll take their lead from us. If we do have to go head to head with the Hadenmen, I'd back both of them against pretty high odds." She grinned slyly at Owen. "I think that Midnight fancies you."

"No," said Owen. "The man she loved was nothing like me. Nothing."

There was a new coldness in his voice that persuaded Hazel not to continue that line of conversation, and they walked on for a while in silence. The streets remained empty, with no sign anywhere of man or Hadenman. Their footsteps echoed flatly back from the surrounding buildings, eerily loud in the quiet. Hazel got bored walking with Owen, who was too busy brooding to do more than grunt in response to her conversational sallies, and in the end she moved up to walk with her two alternates. The three of them were soon chatting busily away, ignoring Owen completely as they disagreed over practically everything. Owen wasn't surprised. That was Hazel for you. He knew he should warn the three women to keep their voices down, but he also knew they'd just tell him to go to hell, so he saved his breath. They'd been walking for some time now, and his feet were beginning to take notice and protest.

He carefully avoided getting drawn into the arguments himself. He was quite happy being ignored. He didn't like the possessive way the two alternates looked at him, or the way Hazel grinned when she noticed it. In their different ways, both Bonnie and Midnight fascinated him, much in the same way traffic accidents fascinate onlookers. And just as he was thinking that, Bonnie casually drew a spray hypo from her belt, stuck it against the side of her neck, and injected herself with the contents, all without slowing her pace in the slightest. She gave a low moan of pleasure, and her back straightened with an audible snap. Owen hurried up to walk alongside her. She was grinning that disturbing smile again, all narrow black lips and pointed teeth.

"What was that?" Owen said sharply.

"Just a little something to take the edge off, and put the bounce back in my step. Care for a taste?"

"No," said Owen. "Look, we are in a very dangerous situation—"

"Oh, loosen up, stud. I'm so sharp you could use me to cut corners. If I was any more alert, I'd be seeing tomorrow."

"Drugs are the bane of the warrior," said Midnight stiffly. "True strength comes from the spirit."

"Whatever gets you through the dark, darling."

"Was that… Blood?" said Hazel.

"Hell, no. I've moved way beyond that. Owen showed me the way. My Owen. He was never afraid to try anything new. Anything that might give him an edge. Between us we've tried practically every battle drug going, and every chemical that might help us expand our Maze-boosted minds. There's nothing like expanding your personal universe and clearing out the cluttered parts of your brain. I've illuminated parts of my mind that most people don't even know they've got. If you listen carefully, some days you can hear my synapses frying. It was the Maze that started it. The biggest rush of all. Never found anything to equal it. But I keep looking. Drugs, battle, a little private sex and suffering; it's all a rush."

"You sound just like Valentine Wolfe," said Hazel.

"The Emperor?" said Bonnie. "My hero."

Hazel looked sharply at Owen, but he didn't respond.

The streets of Brahmin City slowly began to change, as Hadenman additions finally began to appear. Human buildings had been removed from the city streets like rotten teeth yanked from the socket, and replaced by sharp new edifices of steel and tech. None of them felt like talking anymore, and they all carried their weapons in their hands. There was still no one to be seen, and the only sounds in the ominous quiet were their own footsteps.

The city became increasingly disturbing. The new elements had not been designed with human logic or comforts in mind. There were strange angles and unnerving shapes. Gleaming and brilliant, they glowed silver from within, setting up echoes in the mind, pushing thoughts in directions the human mind wasn't meant to go. There were still no Hadenmen anywhere. It was like walking through a city of alien dead, or alien dreaming. The light from the shining artifacts was subtly cold on their skin, like the caresses of passing ghosts.

Owen kept glaring about him. He had no doubt they were being watched. He could feel the pressure of coldly observing eyes. His head hurt. His fingers tingled uncomfortably. Somewhere far away he could hear a low, continuous thudding, like a single working machine, or perhaps the great artificial heart of this inhuman city. The air seemed to be gusting steadily back and forth, as though the streets were breathing. Owen began to wonder if perhaps they were walking through a single living organism, a city awoken into an artificial life and sentience. The Hadenmen were quite capable of such a thing. But then, where were all the people who used to live here when it was just a city?

Bonnie Bedlam turned suddenly and fired her disrupter, the energy beam blowing apart a glazed silver node halfway up a building on their left. Gleaming fragments fell like metal snowflakes, and the sound of the explosion seemed to echo on forever. Owen and the others looked quickly about them, weapons at the ready, but nothing was moving anywhere. Owen glared at Bonnie.

"What the hell was that for?"

"I didn't like the way that building was looking at me," said Bonnie calmly.

Owen struggled to hold on to his temper. "Well, if the Hadenmen didn't know we were here before, they sure as hell do now!"

"You're welcome," said Bonnie.

"Uh, Owen," said Hazel quietly. "I think we can definitely assume they know exactly where we are."

Owen looked around to discover a small army of Hadenmen had appeared out of nowhere, in utter silence, and now surrounded them on all sides. Owen decided he was going to stand very still and hoped the others had the sense to do the same. There had to be a least a hundred of the augmented men, tall and perfect and standing utterly still with poised, inhuman grace. None of them were carrying obvious weapons. They didn't need any. They were weapons. Their faces were completely expressionless, though their eyes burned with a golden glare, as though small nuclear fires burned in each eyeball. Owen looked at Hazel, and they both pointed their guns at the ground, just so there wouldn't be any misunderstanding. Bonnie was looking a bit restless, so Midnight gripped her right arm firmly with one hand, just in case. For a long moment the humans and the Hadenmen just stood and looked at each other, the Hadenmen augmented by human tech, the others enlarged by the alien tech of the Madness Maze. None of them strictly human anymore.

Owen thought furiously. This was exactly the kind of confrontation he'd hoped to avoid by sneaking into the city by the sewers. But Owen still had hopes of negotiating some kind of deal. Even after all he'd seen of the Hadenmen's past atrocities, he still believed in talking rather than fighting whenever possible. He had to. It was either that, or give in to the way of the warrior, to blood and fury and the beast. And Owen had seen enough death and destruction in his life. He looked cautiously for someone who looked like a leader or spokesperson, and then tensed as one of the augmented men suddenly stepped forward.

"Hello, Owen," said the Hadenman in a harsh, buzzing voice. "Remember me?"

"My God," said Owen slowly. "Moon? Is that you?"

"Yes," said Tobias Moon. "Your old companion. They rebuilt me after I was destroyed by the Grendel on lost Haden. Hello, Hazel."

"It's been a while, Moon," said Hazel. She holstered her gun and held out a hand for him to shake. After a moment Moon took her hand in his and shook it carefully, mindful of his greater strength. The Hadenman's hand was cold as a corpse, and Hazel let go as soon as she diplomatically could. Owen studied Moon carefully, and he stared impassively back with his glowing eyes. Owen shook his head slowly.

"They did a hell of a job on you, Moon. I can't see a join anywhere. I mean, that Grendel ripped your head right off."

"I remember," said Moon. "I was there." He looked at Hazel. "I remember you coming to see me in the city we built on lost Haden." He looked back at Owen. "You never came to see me, Owen."

"I thought you were dead," said Owen. "And when I did finally find out… there were so many things I had to do…"

"I understand. I am, after all, not the Tobias Moon you knew. This is his body, repaired and raised to full Hadenman functioning, and I have full access to all his memories, but I am not him. It is just as well. He had spent too long away from his own kind. He had become too human."

"So I was right," said Owen. "My old companion really is dead, after all. I've lost another friend. You'd think I'd be used to that by now. But it doesn't matter. So, what happens now, Moon?"

"That's rather up to you, Owen. You should have let us know you were coming. We would have prepared a reception for you."

"Yeah," growled Hazel. "I'll bet you would have."

"Please, put your weapons away," said Moon calmly. "You are in no danger. The Redeemer and his companions are always welcome among the Hadenmen."

Owen looked at the others, shrugged, and put his gun and sword away. After a long moment Hazel sheathed her sword, and Bonnie and Midnight followed her example. Bonnie studied the Hadenmen with open curiosity, and they looked back with equal interest. Presumably they'd never seen anything quite like each other before. Midnight folded her muscular arms across her chest and looked bored, now there was no longer any hope of a little action. Owen looked around him, taking in the blank watching faces of the augmented men. They had a disturbing similarity, as though the same thoughts moved behind different faces. The Hadenmen were perfect in shape and form, but it was not a human perfection. Their bodies were largely machine, their minds boosted by computer implants, their only aim and purpose the perfectability of all Humanity through technology. And if they had lost human attributes along the way, like emotions and conscience and individuality, that was a price the Hadenmen had always been willing to pay.

"We should have known Moon would show up again," Oz murmured in Owen's ear. "You can't trust a Hadenman in anything, even to stay dead. Now he's just another of the pale harlequins, with the mark of Cain upon his brow. Watch your back, Owen."

Owen frowned. The AI's words seemed to stir a memory in him, of something he'd heard in a prophecy from a precog on Mistworld. For a moment he seemed on the brink of understanding something important, but Moon was indicating politely that they should start moving, and Owen let the thought go as he concentrated on the matter at hand. He still had hopes he could talk the Hadenmen into giving up their captives and working with Humanity rather than against them. Together, the two branches of Humanity might be capable of far more than they could ever hope to achieve separately. And the Hadenmen must have learned something from their total defeat in their last Crusade against the Empire. Surely a people so proud of their logic wouldn't make the same mistake twice?

Moon led the four humans down the street, and the rest of the Hadenmen fell in behind them, all of them walking in perfect step. Owen hoped Hazel and her alternates would continue to take their lead from him and not start anything. With luck, he could get some useful information out of Moon before they got to wherever they were going. Which was probably a good place to start.

"So," he said casually, "where are we going, Moon?"

"To the heart of the city," said the Hadenman in his rasping, buzzing voice. "There is so much we wish to show you, Redeemer. Much that you have made possible."

"We were allies in the rebellion. Why have you turned against Humanity now?"

"We follow our programming. The imperatives of the Genetic Church. The perfectability of mankind. We bring the gift of transformation for everyone."

"What if everyone doesn't want it?"

"Such a response is clearly illogical and is therefore ignored. We do as we must. What is necessary."

It seemed Moon was right when he claimed to have none of his old personality. These responses could have come from any augmented man. Tobias Moon had been different. He'd spent much of his life among humans, absorbing human characteristics despite himself. He'd always said he wanted nothing more than to be among his own people, a Hadenman among Hadenmen, but even then he hadn't been sure whether they'd accept him as he was, as he'd become. In the end, he'd died before Owen could open their Tomb. He'd never seen the second coming of the Hadenmen. Now here he was, living as he'd always wanted, and unable to appreciate it because Hadenmen didn't have feelings like that. Owen felt obscurely angry.

"You have Moon's memories," he said sharply. "You remember me and Hazel. We were friends. How do you feel about us now?"

"Hadenmen do have feelings," Moon said unexpectedly. "They are just… unlike human emotions. They arise from our minds, not chemical imbalances in the body. Understand that we give up much to become Hadenmen. Our sex is cut away from us, along with other unnecessary appetites and needs, and thus our thoughts and drives derive from different sources than yours. We give up human weaknesses to become something more, to become part of a greater whole. We do not feel pain or despair, heat or cold. We are never alone. My thoughts are logic, my dreams are mathematics. There is far more to me than the barely functioning creature you knew before."

"Don't bother trying to reach him," said Hazel. "I tried often enough back on Haden. There's nothing left of the Moon we knew."

"I remember," said Moon. "You came to me for Blood. Do you require some more?"

"No," said Hazel. "I don't need it anymore."

"Very wise," said Moon. "It is very detrimental to the human system."

"Being human made you capable of things that are probably beyond you now," said Owen. "Do you remember how you died. Moon? You were trying to activate the controls that would open the Tomb of the Hadenmen when the Grendel alien caught up with you. You fought, and it tore you apart, ripping your head from your shoulders with its bare hands. It had started eating your body when I found it and killed it. I tried to open the Tomb, but I didn't have the access codes. Only you did. And you came back from death to give me those codes, speaking them with your dead lips. I couldn't have opened the Tomb without your help. Do you remember any of that?"

Moon looked at him for a long moment and then looked away. "No. I remember none of that. It sounds very unlikely. Probably in the stress of the moment you imagined it. Humans do that."

Owen decided he'd drop the matter for the moment, and let the Hadenman think about it. He was sure he'd touched something in Moon, even if the augmented man denied it. "So, how did you know where to find us, Moon?"

"You were detected the moment you entered the city. We have made this place over in our own image, and now every Hadenman is a part of the city, and nothing moves in it that is not us. Our sensors detected you and identified you to us as the Redeemer. So we came to escort you into the heart of our mystery. We will hide nothing from you. You and your Family have always been good allies to the Hadenmen."

"You said that once before," Owen said slowly. "But I never found the time to follow it up. Or perhaps I was afraid to. Exactly what dealings have your kind had with Clan Deathstalker?"

"Our association goes back centuries. Originally through the computers of Giles Deathstalker, who contacted the scientists who passed through the Madness Maze, and afterward made themselves over into the first Hadenmen, and then later, through various Family members, up until our abortive first Crusade. They supported us, provided what we needed, helped us remain hidden from the rest of the Empire. When the Crusade failed, and we fled to our Tomb to wait for better days, your Family kept a watch over us, until it was your destiny to come and awaken us. That's how your dead father's ring came to hold the coordinates for lost Haden. Everything was carefully arranged. You were just the last cog in a great machine."

"And what was the nature of this relationship?" said Owen, holding his anger within him. "There must have been a deal. Who promised what to whom?"

"We would help the rebels overthrow the Iron Throne and place them in power. In return, the Hadenmen were promised planets of their own, and a percentage of the Empire's population. A levy, a tithe. Millions of men and women, to be used as found necessary."

"No," said Owen. "No! My father would never have agreed to such a thing!"

"Are you sure?" said Hazel quietly. "Giles sure as hell wouldn't have had any problems with such a deal. And you always said your father would make a deal with the Devil if that was what it took to get what he wanted."

"The end justifies the means," said Owen bitterly. "Anything for the greater good. The nobility of sacrifice, as long as it wasn't his. That kind of shit was why I broke from him, and refused to be a part of his intrigues. But I never even guessed he'd be a part of something like this."

"It was a good deal, from which both sides stood to profit," said Moon calmly. "And entirely logical. We did our part, and the Empire is yours. Now we are taking what was promised us. Beginning with Brahmin II."

Owen's hand dropped to the gun at his side. Hazel clamped her hand down hard on his arm. This wasn't the time. Not yet. "What's so special about this world?" she asked. "This is the second time you've come here."

"There are ore deposits here unavailable throughout the rest of the Empire," said Moon. "No use to humans, but vital to Hadenmen technology. The native population is a useful bonus. Brahmin II is just the beginning. We will go from planet to planet, one at a time, taking control of the populations and their resources. The humans we will make over into ourselves, our numbers growing with every world. The Empire will be slow to see our threat. They will not go to war with us over a single planet, not in their present weakened condition. By the time they realize how much we have taken, and how many of us there are, it will be too late. The second Crusade of the Genetic Church will sweep across all Humanity, bringing the gift of transformation, and sooner than you would think, it will be a Hadenman empire."

"Thinks a lot of himself, doesn't he?" said Bonnie Bedlam.

"Say the word, Owen, and I'll tear this tin can apart and rip out his wiring."

"Right," said Midnight Blue, flexing her dark muscles. "One word, and I'll reduce this bunch to their component parts."

"A nice thought, but hold it for the moment," said Owen. "There are still things I need to know. Whether I want to know them or not."

Moon took them on a tour of what used to be Brahmin City. Inside the buildings. Moon showed them Hadenmen plugged directly into working systems, a functioning part of the city's technical processes. Some had been partly disassembled to fit into the city machinery. Everywhere they went, unfamiliar machinery worked endlessly to unknown purposes. Owen became increasingly convinced that the whole city had been converted into one great machine, though its purposes remained unclear.

"So where are all the people?" said Hazel eventually. "I mean, the real people, Brahmin's population, and the prisoners you took during the rebellion. What have you done with them?"

"Yes," said Owen. "It's time you told us. Moon. You couldn't have turned them all into Hadenmen in so short a time."

"They have been put to use," said Moon calmly. "Nothing is ever wasted. We will show you everything."

He led them into a tall steel tower with no windows, and the door closed and locked itself behind the last Hadenman to accompany them. Most stayed outside, but twenty augmented men remained with them. Owen didn't let it get to him. The Hadenmen might think that twenty were enough to enforce their will, but they'd never seen Maze powers working at their full extent. They were in for one hell of a surprise.

Moon opened a door that looked like any other and ushered the human party into a Hadenman laboratory. And there at last they discovered what the Hadenmen had been doing with their human prisoners. Owen had to fight for control. They were waiting for him to break down. When he did finally fight back, he wanted to be sure it was his idea. He could feel Hazel shaking at his side. He didn't dare look around to see how Bonnie and Midnight were taking it.

Before them, in a gleaming, spotless room that seemed to go on forever, the people of Brahmin II had been reduced to mere experiments. Some had been plugged into working machines, to see if they could function as Hadenmen did. Wires pierced their skin in bunches, and thin transparent tubing plunged into surgically exposed guts, gleaming red and purple in the unblinking light. Cables disappeared into gaping mouths and emptied eye sockets, and emerged again from gray brain tissues exposed by removal of part of the skull. There was no blood. It had all been pumped away. There were too many subjects to count, men and women who should have been dead, kept artificially alive in hell. All the subjects seemed to be aware of their situation and what had been done to them. But none of them struggled or protested.

"Why aren't they screaming?" said Hazel. "Damn, I'd scream."

"We removed their vocal cords," said Moon. "The noise was distracting."

"Why aren't they moving?" said Owen, already knowing the answer.

"Movement was unnecessary, and might have interfered with the tests," said Moon. "So we severed the spinal cord too."

"Why?" said Owen, not looking at Moon, his voice cold as death. "Why all this… horror?"

"People have changed since we last walked among them," said Moon calmly. "There are clones and espers and adjusted men, and even miracle workers like yourself. It is vital that we understand the current status of Humanity before we begin improving on it. This whole tower is one great laboratory—floor upon floor, rooms upon rooms, dedicated to discovering the hidden truths of what Humanity has become in our absence. Subjects are tested to the physical and psychological limits that we might better understand the ages-old question: what is this thing called man? Would you care to see our findings so far? Our test results have been most illuminating."

Owen grabbed Moon by the arm and forced him around so they were face to face. "Are you proud of this. Moon? Of what you and your kind have done to living, sentient creatures?"

The question seemed to take Moon aback. "It is necessary. Suffering is transient, knowledge is forever. And none of the subjects are wasted. Those who survive the procedures will be made into Hadenmen, and they will never know suffering again. Those who die will supply body parts for the greater good. And everything that is learned here becomes part of the great pool of Hadenman knowledge. Man becomes more than man, by his own efforts. That is the creed of the Hadenmen."

"But how do you feel about all this?" said Owen. "About the horror your subjects feel, and the horror of what you do to them?"

"There was a time," Moon said slowly, "when that question might have meant something to me. But I have been… improved since then."

"Like hell you have," said Owen.

"Let me get this straight," said Bonnie Bedlam. "All this Hadenman crap is new to me. You're going to improve Humanity by cutting away all the things that make us human?"

"I thought you at least might understand," said Moon. "You were not content to be as nature made you. You cut holes in your flesh to make room for metal. You endured transient pain for future gain."

"Only because I enjoyed it, metalhead. It was my choice. You took these people's choice away from them. That's inhuman. And it stops right here."

Her hand moved blindingly fast toward the gun on her hip, but the Hadenmen around her moved faster. Steel-knuckled fists hammered down in unison, driving her to the floor. Midnight Blue started forward, only to stop as the Hadenmen around her moved menacingly forward. Bonnie tried to fight back, but there were too many of them, and no room to move. Hazel looked at Owen, but he just stood there and did nothing, though he wouldn't let himself look away. Hadenmen fists broke Bonnie's dead-white skin and tore piercings from her flesh. Blood spurted thickly, and her eyes grew vague. Eventually she stopped struggling and lay still, and the Hadenmen drew back and let her be.

Midnight glared at Owen. "You could have stopped that."

"Yes," said Owen. "I probably could have. But she had to find out the hard way what they're capable of. I wouldn't always be there to protect her. Besides, she'll heal. It's what she does."

"You cold-hearted bastard," said Midnight.

"Sometimes," said Owen. "You aren't the only one who learned hard lessons from a hard war." He moved forward to kneel beside Bonnie Bedlam. Her face was a swollen, bloody mess, one eye completely closed. She was breathing harshly, and her gaping mouth showed missing teeth at the front. "How are you feeling?" said Owen gently.

"Great," said Bonnie, struggling to get her breathing back under control. "Give me a minute and I'll get up and hammer the bastards."

"No, you won't," said Owen. "This is their idea of a warning. Next time they'd just kill you. We can't beat them like this. We have to think our way out. Now, will you please forget the solo heroics and follow my lead?"

Bonnie thought about it. "How many metalheads did I take out?"

"Less than one."

"I'll follow your lead." Bonnie sat up straight, and concentrated. The puffiness in her face went down, and her swollen eye healed in seconds. New teeth pushed up out of her torn gums to replace those she'd lost. She stretched easily like a cat and rose to her feet in one lithe movement, smiling widely.

"Oh, man, what a rush." She glared at the Hadenmen. "Next time I'll plan it better."

"Next time," said Moon, "we'll find a place for you in our laboratories. You only live now as a favor to the Redeemer."

"Yeah," said Midnight coldly. "I can see you and he are real close."

Owen looked at her. "You're supposed to be a warrior. Don't you recognize the futility of overwhelming odds?"

"We've been through the Maze!" said Midnight. "Nothing can stop us!"

"You've never had to face the Hadenmen," said Hazel. "If you want to get out of this alive, take your lead from Owen. He knows what he's doing."

Moon glared at Hazel, and then at Owen, and then turned away to offer Bonnie a supporting arm she didn't need. Hazel moved in close beside Owen.

"Tell me this is all part of a cunning plan," she said quietly.

"It's all part of a cunning plan," said Owen.

"Now try saying it like you mean it."

"Right now I'm just trying to keep us all alive," said Owen quietly. "I really don't fancy our chances here. Maybe we could take them, maybe not. I don't want to find out we can't the hard way."

Hazel glanced around her and shrugged uneasily. "I still think we could trash their metallic asses if we had to, but I am definitely in favor of trying every other option first. Keep pressing Moon; I think you're getting to him. His last few responses were almost human. Stay cool, Owen. Stay on top of things. I can tell how hard this is for you."

"Is it that obvious?" said Owen. "How much I want to tear this place down? What's happening here is vile, inhuman, utterly evil. It's everything we fought against in the Empire. But the bottom line is we can't risk dying here. At least one of us must get away to warn Humanity."

"Understood," said Hazel. "And no, it's not obvious. But the others don't know you like I do. All this reminds you of Charnel House, doesn't it? Of what was done to your people on Virimonde."

"Yes. But this is different. Most of these poor bastards are still alive, even if they are in Hell. So I have to come up with a scheme that not only takes out the Hadenmen, but will also free the captives. And since schemes aren't necessarily what I do best…"

"You'll think of something, scholar. Just tell me when I can start hitting things. Which is very definitely what I do best."

Owen's mouth twitched for the first time in something like a smile. "You and both your alternates. I guess some things never change."

"You wouldn't have let them kill Bonnie, would you?"

"Of course not. But I couldn't let her commit us all to a fight at this time. Moon and his people were just waiting for a chance to show us who was really in charge here. Hopefully, they'll cut us a little slack now."

"So, what is the plan now?"

"Keep our eyes and ears open and look for a chance. We still need to learn as much as possible about what they're up to."

"They're a bunch of evil, sadistic bastards. What more do we need to know?"

"How far along the line they are in producing the next generation of Hadenmen. We need to know exactly what the new models can do, how many they have here on Brahmin, and how many more might be hiding out in other bases, on other worlds. Finding that information, and getting it back to the Empire, is more important than our need for vengeance."

Hazel looked at him steadily. "And more important than our lives?"

"Maybe. In many ways everything that's happening here is my fault. And my Family's. I have a duty to do everything I can to stop this."

"Don't worry," said Hazel. "The minute we've learned everything we need to know, this whole filthy business is shutting down. Whatever it takes."

"Remember the hostages," said Owen. "We can't just abandon them."

Hazel looked around the laboratory. "After everything they've been through, death might be the only kindness we could do them."

"Maybe. But we have to try. It's the human thing to do."

"Interesting," said Moon suddenly. "You've both been talking animatedly for some time, but I couldn't hear a word of it. Even with my enhanced hearing. And you weren't using your comm implants, or I would have picked it up. Did the Maze make you telepathic or something?"

"Something," said Owen. "Very definitely something. All of us who passed through the Maze have a mental link, a closeness. If you'd stayed with us, you'd have it too. Now back off."

Moon nodded. "Feel free to make any threats or declarations of defiance you feel necessary for your peace of mind."

"You betrayed me. All of you. I didn't release you from your Tomb for this."

"Your reasons for opening the Tomb are irrelevant," said Moon calmly. "Their freedom was inevitable. If it hadn't been you, it would have been some other member of your Family. David perhaps."

"Interesting," said Hazel. "You've started saying they instead of we. Can it be you aren't entirely in sympathy with what's going on here?"

"I believe the human expression clutching at straws is appropriate here," said Moon. "Follow me."

"Of course," said Owen. "There are always more circles to Hell, aren't there?"

They went up to the next level, and another laboratory, this time silent as the grave. Endless rows of men and women sat unmoving in tiny cubicles, eyes closed, faces utterly immobile. Holes had been drilled in the backs of their heads, and coils of metal cables linked their heads to unseen machinery. After the horrors of the previous laboratory, the new one seemed practically serene. Owen distrusted it on sight. He looked at Moon.

"We're testing for esp," said Moon. "Barely known during the first Crusade, it has now spread throughout Humanity. Esp fascinates the Hadenmen—a form of power and control not derived from technology, but from the unknown depths of the unaugmented mind. The Hadenmen want it for themselves. So they are currently seeking to map all physical changes in the brain tissues of all those showing some form of esp ability. Logically speaking, esp is a puzzle. It has no obvious power source, yet is capable of achieving things the Hadenmen cannot duplicate even with their vast knowledge of tech. So they are currently stimulating all areas of the subjects' brains to destruction, and observing in the hope they will learn something useful."

"Torturing them till they die of it," said Bonnie. "Bastards."

Midnight glared at Owen but said nothing.

"You don't approve of this either, do you, Moon?" said Owen.

"My approval is irrelevant," said Moon. "The Hadenmen do what is necessary to follow their destiny. No individual belief can be allowed to interfere with that."

"You're weakening, Moon," said Hazel. "Any minute now you'll forget yourself and venture an opinion of your own."

"I am a Hadenman," said Moon. "Whatever I might have been in the past, I am now a fully functioning Hadenman. That is all that matters. The Tobias Moon you knew is dead. I am merely a reinvigorated body with access to the original Moon's memories. Nothing more. Come. There is still much for you to see."

"I don't think so," said Owen. "I'm much more interested in talking with you. Let's try a few straightforward questions and answers, shall we?"

"If you wish. You are the Redeemer. We will hide nothing from you."

"And knock off the Redeemer crap. I'm a Deathstalker, and that has always been another name for honor, despite what some members may have done to smear it by working with you. I want answers, and you're going to give them to me. What's going on in the other labs?"

"We are investigating current technology and extrapolating from it," said Moon, somewhat less agitated now they were on safer ground. "Science has moved on while we were away. While we still remain in the forefront in most areas, there is still much that can be learned. Cloning is new to us. Once understood and mastered, the population of this planet can be cloned many times over to provide basic stock from which new Hadenmen can be produced. They will be the next generation of Hadenmen, greater than before. Invulnerable in battle, genetically superior, their triumph will be inevitable. The Second Crusade will convert all Humanity, and the Hadenman empire will be strong, efficient, invincible. This is necessary. We have many enemies. The AIs of Shub have refused all offers of cooperation or allegiance. They say they don't need the Hadenmen. That we are only flesh with delusions of grandeur. Shub therefore remains an enemy and a danger. And then there are the aliens. Unknown. Powerful. Dangerous. Humanity must become more than it is if it is to survive these threats."

"Damn," said Midnight Blue. "Once you get him started, there's no stopping him, is there?"

"Give me ten minutes alone with him, and I'll stop him," growled Bonnie. All her wounds had healed, and her scowl was something to behold. "How much more of this crap do we have to listen to, Deathstalker? My Owen would have—"

"Your Owen isn't here," snapped Owen. "And even if he was, he probably wouldn't have done any better than you against the Hadenmen. Now hush. I know what I'm doing." He turned back to Moon. "Very nice speech, Moon. I'm sure you said it just the way you were programmed to. But you must see how illogical your position is. You can't hope to win. You've got one planet, a handful of ships, and you already admitted you're years behind everyone else's tech. You're outnumbered, outclassed, and everybody hates you. You can't win."

"The Empire is weak, divided," said Moon. "You saw to that. Our golden ships decimated the Imperial Fleet during the rebellion. Your remaining armies are tired, and spread over too many fronts. What better time to strike? Especially as we have new, less obvious weapons to wield. We have the only existing remains of the adjusted men, the Wampyr. While there is no point in re-creating what were essentially only inferior versions of ourselves, we have used their remains to produce an inexhaustible supply of the drug known as Blood. We have been supplying the Empire with this drug, through a series of middle men, for some time now. Now there are addicts everywhere, dependent on us for their next fix. Who'll do anything we require of them rather than risk being cut off. Some of them in very high positions. You'd recognize the names. They will be our sixth column, our secret army, our private traitors at the heart of your government, sowing chaos and confusion as we require. Just like you, Hazel, when I supplied you with Blood back on lost Haden."

"I never betrayed my own kind!" said Hazel.

"But you would have if we'd asked you to," said Moon. "Wouldn't you?"

Hazel glared hotly at him and then looked away. Owen put a comforting hand on her arm. Moon turned his attention back to Owen. "You see, Deathstalker? Answers bring no aid. Truth brings no comfort. Humanity is the past. Hadenmen are the future. They have named you Redeemer. Speak for them. Be their advocate to the Empire. Convince the Empire to embrace the future, not fear it. The Empire can be made strong again, to face its many enemies. Humanity must surrender to us for the greater good. Evolution cannot be denied. Speak for us, Deathstalker. Be the herald of the future that destiny always intended."

"No," said Owen. "You're not Humanity's destiny. You're a mistake, an offshoot, a path that should never have been taken. Humanity lies in the heart, in the soul, in all the imponderable things that tech can never measure. You're no better than Shub. I'll never serve you. Never."

"You will," said Moon. "You have no choice in the matter. You and your companions are our prisoners, as was always intended. The Hadenmen have need of the secrets within you, the power you gained from the Madness Maze. Our scientists on Haden have been trying to recreate the Maze, but so far with no success. The one being who might have told us anything, the Wolfling, cannot be found. So you and your companions are the only hope we have of understanding what the Maze did and how it did it. That's the only reason we allowed you to enter this city. We brought you here, into the heart of our operations, so that you could be taken captive with the minimum of effort. There's no point in fighting now, Owen. You are surrounded by hundreds of Hadenmen, and we have observed that even your miraculous powers have limits."

"Don't be too sure of that," said Hazel. "You'd be surprised what we can do when we have to."

"That's precisely why we want you," said Moon, unmoved by the threat in her voice. "Your abilities fascinate us. The Maze produced the original Hadenmen, but we had no idea it could produce miracle-workers. It is the nature of Hadenmen to seek perfection, and it is unacceptable that you should possess powers that we do not. So we will study you, discover the source of your miracles, and take it for ourselves. We will build a new Madness Maze, and all the Hadenmen shall pass through it. Then let Humanity tremble, for from that moment their days are numbered. And all of this because of you, Owen Deathstalker."

"You say you're going to study us," said Owen. "Would you care to be a little more specific?"

"We will examine, test, and finally dissect you," said Moon. "Discover all your secrets and limits, and then reduce you to your smallest components. Nothing will be overlooked. Nothing will be left undone."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," said Owen. "You have to take us first. And you've never seen what we can do when it comes to a fight."

"There will be no fighting," said Moon. "You will follow our every instruction, Owen. Even turn on your friends if we find it necessary. You are ours. We own you."

"What the hell is he talking about, Owen?" murmured Hazel.

"No one owns me," said Owen.

"You gave yourself over to us," said Moon calmly. "When you accepted our golden hand."

Owen looked down at his left hand. His artificial hand. He'd lost the original fighting the Grendel alien on Haden. To save his life the Hadenmen had grafted on an artificial hand. A wondrous thing of pure gold, that obeyed his every thought. And if it always felt subtly cold, and not entirely his, that was a small price to pay for such a technological wonder. He lifted the hand before his face and flexed the golden fingers. Almost a work of art. He lowered the hand again and looked back at Moon. "Never trust a gift from strangers. What have you done to me, you bastards?"

"Bound you to us. The hand has spread golden filaments throughout your body, infiltrating every part of you, including your brain. We now control you from within. You belong to us now, Owen. In truth, you always did."

"My brain?" said Owen. "You've been stirring your metal fingers in my brain? Interfering with my thoughts, influencing my decisions? What have you made me do? How much of what I've become is down to you?"

"You'll never know," said Moon.

It seemed to Owen that his artificial hand felt very cold. He curled the fingers into a fist, searching for any feeling of resistance on their part. He glared at Moon. "You said I was your Redeemer. When I released you from your Tomb, you swore to follow me."

"And so we did. For as long as it served our purpose. We are the Hadenmen. We are the destiny of Humanity. Nothing can be allowed to stand in our way."

"Damn you, Moon," Owen whispered. "What have you done to me?"

"I'm sorry, Owen," said Moon. "I have no choice in this either."

Owen's human hand went for his gun, and a shocking spasm erupted in all his muscles. He cried out in pain despite himself, agony burning in him like a golden, consuming flame. He fell to the floor and lay there convulsing, his teeth bared in a straining rictus. Hazel went to help him, and immediately half a dozen Hadenmen grabbed her. Others grabbed Bonnie Bedlam and Midnight Blue and held them fast. Owen cried out again in pain and horror as his body betrayed him, until finally even his voice was silenced. Someone else's orders moved in his brain, and he rose smoothly to his feet, a prisoner inside his head. He could feel the golden filaments stirring within him, threaded through every part of him like parasitic metal worms. He couldn't even turn his head or move his eyes to see what was happening to Hazel, until the Hadenmen did it for him.

Hazel was struggling in the grip of the Hadenmen, and they were having a hell of a time holding onto her. Tobias Moon moved unhurriedly forward to stand before her, holding something in his hand. Owen recognized what it was, and tried desperately to call out a warning, but his voice was no longer his own. Hazel was so busy fighting to be free, she didn't see Moon till it was too late. He gestured to the other augmented men, and using all their strength they were able to force Hazel to her knees and hold her there for a moment. Just long enough for Moon to press his spray hypo against Hazel's neck and inject her with a massive dose of the drug called Blood. She cried out in shock and horror, tears running down her face as the old cold bliss of Blood coursed through her system again. And all Owen could do was watch.

Moon stepped back from Hazel and gestured for the other augmented men to let her go. "Enforced Blood addiction will control her for what remains of her life. She will not fight us. She won't want to." He looked at the empty hypo in his hand and then let it drop to the floor, as though embarrassed by it. He glanced at Owen, still frozen in place. "We do… what is necessary, Owen. That is the Hadenman way." He turned back to study Bonnie and Midnight. "You are new factors in the equation. Your presence was not anticipated. Remain calm, and you will not be harmed as events progress to their inevitable conclusion."

"Don't… believe him," said Hazel on her knees, and everyone turned to look at her again. Her face was pale and drawn, dripping sweat, and sudden shudders wracked her body, but her mouth was firm and her gaze was steady, blazing defiance at Moon. "You made a mistake, Hadenman. Blood is old news to me. I beat it before, and I'll beat it again. Watch."

Black Blood spurted suddenly from her nose and ran down over her mouth and chin. More welled up from under her eyelids and slid slowly down her cheeks. She opened her mouth, and Blood spilled out in a jerking stream as she drove the drug from her body by sheer force of will. Black drops beaded on her skin, oozing out of every pore. The drug pooled on the floor before her and soaked her clothes until finally it stopped, as suddenly as it began, and Hazel rose to her feet, the last of the Blood dripping from her. She smiled at Moon, and anybody else would have stepped back several paces.

"You screwed up, Hadenman. I'm not the Hazel you remember. The Maze changed me in ways you can't even imagine. Now release Owen, or you're all dead. You might have an army, but I can be an army if I have to."

"So we've heard," said Moon. "That's one of the reasons why we must have you. But we won't fight you. Owen will do that for us. Won't you, Owen?"

And Owen's hand drew his sword from his scabbard and held it steadily as his body turned to face Hazel. She started to reach for her own sword and then stopped herself. She faced him squarely, her eyes locked on his.

"Don't do this, Owen. Fight it. You can beat what they did to you, just like I beat the Blood. We've been through the Maze. Nothing can command us anymore. Owen, stop. Please. Don't make me fight you."

But he was helpless in the grip of the golden filaments, a prisoner in his own head. He struggled to make even the slightest move of his own and couldn't, and his helpless screams of protest never left his mouth. He stepped smoothly forward and thrust his sword at Hazel's unprotected breast. It was a killing blow, launched with inhuman speed, and anyone else would have died. But Hazel d'Ark had been a hell of a fighter even before she went through the Maze, and her reflexes were every bit the match for his. Her sword was in her hand and in place to block his blow in plenty of time. They circled each other slowly, blades flashing out to test each other's defenses. Moon gestured for the other Hadenmen to stand back and not interfere. The experiment had to run its course. And still Owen and Hazel circled each other, looking for openings. The tech in the golden hand had access to all Owen's fighting skills and knowledge, and used it all to launch a merciless attack. They were both incredibly strong and fast, fighters trained in the school of hard knocks and honed to perfection by the rebellion. No one else would have survived more than a few moments in this duel. But Owen and Hazel fought on, stamping and lunging and recovering, steel clashing on steel.

Owen boosted, and Hazel boosted with him, their speed and strength increasing to inhuman levels. Blows and parries were traded in a split second, arms and swords moving too quickly for the merely human eye to follow. They were operating on skill and instinct now, forced to the very edge of their swordsmanship in order to keep up with each other. The Hadenmen watched, fascinated, as their two victims fought on levels even they could not hope to duplicate. Yet. But in the end, Owen was fighting to kill, and Hazel wasn't. He took advantage of that, leaving himself open to killing blows the tech in the golden hand knew Hazel wouldn't take advantage of. And slowly, step by step, Hazel was forced backward.

She took her first cut high up on the forehead, blood trickling down into her left eye. She shook her head irritably, and saw drops of her own blood fly on the air before her. More cuts followed, here and there, real blood trickling down where black Blood had recently run. None of the wounds were anywhere near serious, but they were clear signs she was losing. Hazel had no doubt the Hadenmen would force Owen to kill her, if that was what it took. An uncontrollable subject was no use to them. They'd still have her body to dissect, and three live specimens to experiment on. She couldn't keep fighting defensively and hope to survive. But she couldn't kill Owen. Not Owen. So she did the only thing left to her. She disengaged, stepped back, and lowered her sword.

"It's up to you, Owen. Do what you have to."

Owen drew back his sword, his face an expressionless mask. Hazel braced herself. And Owen screamed. The sound burst out of him, full of pain and horror and fury. He dropped to his knees before Hazel, shuddering violently, his eyes wide and staring. Hazel knelt down with him, her eyes fixed on his, trying to reinforce his will with her presence. And Owen slowly raised his sword and brought it down with all his strength on his own left wrist.

Blood spurted thickly as the heavy blade bit deep into the human flesh above the golden hand. Owen cried out again, as much in triumph as pain. He forced his left arm flat on the steel floor, ignoring the spasming golden fingers, and his sword sheared clear through his wrist and dented the floor beneath. The severed hand skittered away, its gleaming fingers still flexing futilely, like a great golden spider. Owen shook with pain and shock, his gritted teeth showing in a death's-head grin. He knew the fight wasn't over yet.

He reached inside himself, concentrating on the golden threads that still infested him. He could feel them with his mind, still fighting him for control of his own body. He clamped down hard, seizing them with his will, and forced them out. And one by one, curling golden strands erupted out of the bloody stump of his left wrist, falling to coil uselessly on the floor. Owen laughed harshly, the awful sound full of agony and triumph, as the golden filaments were forced out of his body. Finally the last filament was gone, and Owen dropped his sword and grabbed his left wrist with his right hand. He squeezed hard, as he had once before on Haden, and the gushing blood slowed to a jerking pulse, trickling between his fingers. Owen concentrated hard, called up all his willpower, focused on the stump of his left wrist, and grinned triumphantly as he grew himself a new left hand.

He sat back on the floor, shaking with the effort of what he'd just done, and held up his new hand before him. It looked perfectly normal, utterly human, exact in every detail, and it felt warm and alive and his in a way the golden hand never had. He flexed his fingers, admiring the supple movements. And then he looked across at Hazel, kneeling opposite him with her mouth hanging open. He smiled easily at her.

"You were right as always, Hazel. Not for the first time, I owe my life and freedom to you."

"I've seen you do some amazing things, Owen, but that is the best yet. I am really impressed."

"We can be impressed with each other later," said Owen. "We still have to fight our way out of here."

Hazel grinned. "After what we've just been through, that should be the easy part."

They scrambled to their feet and faced Moon, side by side, gun and sword in hand. The Hadenman didn't seem to know what to say or do for a moment. "Hazel was right," he said finally. "That really was very impressive. Even the regeneration tanks take months to regrow a severed limb. But in the end, it's just another ability of yours it's imperative we obtain for ourselves. You must surrender. You cannot hope to win."

"Hell with that," said Hazel. "We've fought armies before. We're still here, and mostly they're not. Bring them on, Moon. Bring them all on."

"Lack of confidence never was one of your problems, Hazel," said Moon. "But I still have a card or two to play." He gestured at Bonnie and Midnight, still held captive by Hadenmen. "You will surrender, or we'll kill your friends."

"Sure," said Midnight Blue.

"Right," said Bonnie Bedlam.

And Midnight vanished, air rushing in to fill the space where she had been. She reappeared a moment later on the other side of the room, battle-ax in hand. She swung the ax double-handed and cut off the head of the Hadenman nearest her. Even while the head was still tumbling from the jerking shoulders, she'd vanished again. She teleported back and forth across the laboratory, blinking in and out of existence just long enough to behead another dozen Hadenmen before any of them could even react to her presence.

And Bonnie was suddenly a blur of motion, slipping lithely out of the grasp of the Hadenmen holding her. Razor-sharp blades suddenly protruded from hidden sheaths in her hands and elbows, and Bonnie sliced through her Hadenman captors with vicious skill. They fell back, fingers, hands, and limbs dropping away from them as Bonnie smiled her sharp-toothed smile and drew her sword. Midnight teleported in to stand at her back, and the two of them took up their fighting stances, blades at the ready.

"You caught me napping last time," said Bonnie to Moon. "Just thought I'd return the favor."

"Say the word, Owen," said Midnight, "and we'll reduce these metal bastards to their component parts."

"Bunch of damn metalheads," said Bonnie, grinning nastily. "I'm going to rip your rivets off."

"Sounds good to me," said Owen. He looked at Moon. "We don't care how many of you there are. Let them come. Let them all come."

"Right," said Hazel. "This madness stops here. No more tests. No more pain. No more death."

"You mustn't fight us," said Moon, and for the first time his buzzing voice sounded uncertain. "This is not necessary."

"Yes, it is," said Owen. "We'll never surrender, and we'd rather die than be made over into you."

"That… is not logical."

"No. But it is very human. Dammit, Moon, think. Remember. Remember who you used to be. The Tobias Moon I knew would have fought with us to stop this horror."

"That was a long time ago," said Moon.

"No, it wasn't," said Owen. "That was yesterday."

And he reached out with his mind, trying to reestablish the old mental link that had bound together all those who had passed through the Madness Maze. He could feel Hazel standing beside him, strong and sure and true, and their minds fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a larger jigsaw. Bonnie Bedlam and Midnight Blue were there too, backing them up, like strange echoes of Hazel. Together they reached out to Moon, pushing aside the machine barrier the Hadenmen tech had constructed between them, and the combined power of their joined minds swept the barrier away and linked with Tobias Moon. And he woke up.

The four humans dropped back into their own heads again and studied Moon cautiously. He was breathing heavily and shaking his head. The other augmented men backed away from him, looking at him as if he were infectious. Finally Moon turned and looked at Owen.

"I remember," he said slowly. "They made me forget so much when they rebuilt me, but I remember now. I could have hung on to my memories if I'd chosen, but I didn't want to then. I wanted so much to fit in, I was even prepared to give up part of who I was. But now I'm back, all of me, and I know I can't be just another augmented man. Because I'm more than that. Maybe more than they can ever be. So I stand with you, Owen. Even though we'll probably die together."

"Welcome back, Moon," said Owen, grinning widely.

"Just in time for the big fight," said Hazel. "Looks like it should be a good one. Even though most of us probably won't see the end of it."

"What the hell," said Moon. "I already died once."

"What was it like?" said Hazel.

"Restful," said Moon.

"Hell with that," said Owen. "If we fight, with our powers and their implanted weapons, we'll die, they'll die, and most of the poor bastards captive here will die. And I won't stand for that. No one's dying here today. I've had a bellyful of death."

He reached out through the link again, gathering up all of those who'd been through the Maze, and focused their joined minds through Tobias Moon. Together they dived through Moon's mind and on into the joined consciousness of the augmented men, like swimmers of light entering a vast dark ocean. The Hadenmen tried to force them out, their minds backed up by the great computers that linked them all, but Moon was still a part of them, a door into their joined mind, and he wouldn't let them shut him out. The shared consciousness of the Hadenmen. It was a huge place, the product of hundreds of thousands of minds, and at first the Maze minds were lost in the sheer scale of it. But the Hadenmen minds were limited by the logic of the computers they allowed to link them. Owen and the others were fueled by the rage and horror of what they'd seen in the labs, and magnified by the power of the Maze, they combined their feelings into a single hammer blow of outrage that slammed into the joined Hadenman mind and shattered it like a mirror. Hundreds of thousands of separate fragments fell apart, broken on the anvil of a greater faith than theirs. The darkness dissipated, and there was only light. Owen and the others looked on what they had done, saw it to be good, pulled out of their link, and fell back into their own minds.

Owen blinked his eyes several times, gathering his thoughts, and then looked around the laboratory. The Hadenmen still stood where they had been, but the glow in their eyes had gone out. None of them were moving. Hazel reached cautiously out and gave the nearest augmented man a gentle push. It rocked on its feet and nearly fell, but made no move to right itself. Owen had an almost hysterical need to see it fall, and topple all the others like dominoes.

"They're not dead," said Moon quietly. "But they are shut down. All of them. Their minds have turned themselves off rather than face what we showed them."

"Hold everything," said Hazel. "We shut them all down? Everyone in the building?"

"Everyone in the city, everyone on Brahmin II," said Moon. "I'm still plugged into the main computers. The systems are still functioning, but no one's home to guide them. Hadenmen elsewhere, on other worlds, are unaffected, but the reign of the Hadenmen here is over."

"I brought them back into the Empire," said Owen. "I guess it's only fitting that I should shut them down again. Who knows, maybe some day we can… reprogram them, reawaken their humanity, the way we did yours, Moon."

"Yes," said Moon. "Maybe someday."

"In the meantime we'd better contact the Empire, and call for a relief team," said Owen. "There's a lot of people here who are going to need a lot of help once we unplug them from the Hadenmen machines. We may never be able to undo everything that was done to them, but we have to try. We have to save as many as we can."

"They're not your responsibility, Owen," said Hazel gently. "None of this was. Let it go."

"Maybe," said Owen. He looked at Moon. "You've lost your people again. I'm sorry."

"They were never really my people," said Moon. "I just wished they were."

"Come with us," said Hazel. "Be one of us again. We're your family now."

Moon looked at Bonnie and Midnight. "That should be… interesting. Are you two really alternate versions of Hazel?"

"We like to think she's an alternate version of us," said Midnight. "And we've decided to stick around for a while, see how things play out in this universe."

"Right," said Bonnie. "I could use a break from running Mistworld, and I do miss a little action now and again."

"And it'll mean we can spend more time with Owen," said Midnight brightly.

"Oh, good," said Owen, and glared at Hazel as she tried to stifle her laughter.