Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

stronger, faster, sharper now, and more than ready for whatever was out there.
    He grinned broadly. Let it come. Let them all come. A thoughtful voice somewhere at the back of his mind pointed out that he shouldn't really waste his resources. He'd set in motion events that would eventually produce a new supplier to replace dear dead Georgios, but until the new source was established and proven reliable, he would be wise to avoid using up anything he couldn't
    easily replace. Valentine decided to ignore the voice. It sounded entirely too sane and sensible, and Valentine Wolfe hadn't got where he was by being sane and sensible.
    A light flared suddenly in the gloom ahead of him, sharp and distinct after the blue-white glare of the lamps, followed by the faint sound of footsteps splashing through the slime. Valentine's smile widened, and he drew his gun. A dark figure appeared in the tunnel ahead, silhouetted against the light. It stopped a respectful distance away, calm and silent, a ball of glowing clear white light bobbing at its shoulder. The figure looked human, but Valentine wasn't in the mood to make allowances. In fact, he felt rather like shooting it, anyway, on general principles. And then the figure spoke in a calm, collected voice that had the flat perfection of a machine. Presumably computer-disguised to prevent identification.
    "I didn't mean to alarm you, good sir, but you'll understand that in our position it pays to be cautious, if not downright paranoid. Allow me to give you the first part of the current password: New."
    "Hope," said Valentine, relaxing just a little but not lowering his gun. "Rather an obvious choice, I would have thought, but then no one asked my opinion. May I ask who you are?"
    The figure moved slowly forward, taking its time so that Valentine wouldn't feel threatened. It finally came to a halt before him. bent almost in two under the low roof, and Valentine's interest increased as he realized that any identifying signs were concealed inside a long flowing cape. Even more interesting, there was nothing inside the cape's hood: no face, no head, nothing at all. The ball of light bobbed cheerfully at the figure's shoulder, bright and clear, and
    Valentine had to tone down his vision.
    "I am Hood," said the figure. "Coordinator between the clone and esper undergrounds and the cyberats. And you, sir?"
    "Valentine Wolfe, patron and advisor to the undergrounds. I've heard of you, Hood. The shadow in the background, the presence behind the throne, so to speak.
    I and the rest of the patrons are required to reveal our identities, the espers insist on it, but you alone are allowed anonymity. I wonder why."
    "Because I'm valuable to them," said Hood. "And as long as they need me, they indulge me. I've heard of you, Valentine, hut then I suppose everyone has.
    You've pumped quite a lot of money into the undergrounds by all accounts, but I have to say I can't see why. You are heir to the Wolfe Clan; you stand to inherit everything. What on earth do you need that you have to come to the undergrounds to get it?"
    "Sorry," said Valentine. "I never tell everything on a first date."
    "As you wish. I wonder what the undergrounds want this time that such important backers as you and I had to be summoned so urgently?"
    "It had better be important," said Valentine. "I feel quite naked without my usual persona. Shall we go?"
    "Of course. It's not far now. After you."
    "Oh, no. After you."
    The cape's hood bobbed once in what might have been agreement or humor, and Hood turned and led the way down a side runnel that if anything smelled even worse.
    Valentine followed close behind, his gun still in his hand. He flushed most of the drugs from his system, but kept a few in reserve, just in case.
    Normally the underground only summoned its patrons one at a time, so that if they were captured they wouldn't be able to identify anyone else. Something
    important must be in the wind for two to be needed. Valentine studied Hood's enigmatic back thoughtfully. The lack of a face was interesting; the underground was almost fanatical in its need to know exactly who it was dealing with. It could be a holographic disguise, but nothing less than an esp-blocker would protect Hood's thoughts from an esper's probing mind, and the underground wouldn't tolerate that for a second. Hood: a supplier of money, reportedly well connected, he worked well with both the clone and esper undergrounds, which was rare. They didn't trust