Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

dangling from the high ceiling and disappeared into conduits like snakes sliding into their holes. Mysterious bulking machinery jutted out of the walls, crowding each other for space. The floor was covered with debris, smashed and broken pieces of high tech, some recent, some apparently not. There were living things in the center of the floor, but Valentine chose not to look at them just yet. He straightened up slowly with a grateful sigh, and massaged his aching back with both hands.
    "You're the tech expert. Hood. Where the hell are we this time? It looks like a repairman's nightmare."
    "An old workstation, by the look of it. Abandoned and forgotten and renovated by the cyberats. There are lots of places like this between the various worlds within Golgotha; places that served a purpose once, but were left behind as technology moved on. The cyberats love them; play with them for hours. They've got hundreds of refuges like this that don't appear in current computer records anymore."
    "It's a dump," said Valentine.

    "Well, yes, but you have to admit it does smell better than the sewers."
    "Actually, I quite like dumps. They appeal to my preference for chaos. I love the patterns they make."
    He giggled cheerfully, and Hood looked at him. Valentine looked back, and then the two of them walked forward to bow courteously to the esper representatives in the middle of the great metal chamber. As always, the representatives hid their true identities behind telepathically projected images. They might have been there in person, or they might have been sending the images from somewhere else. It was a talent that Valentine greatly envied.
    The esper leaders were a mystery, and they were determined to keep it that way.
    So a waterfall fell through the air, bubbling and gushing, coming from nowhere and going back there when it touched the floor. Strange colors came and went, and two shadows that might have been eyes hovered midway. Beside the waterfall a swirling mandala hung upon the air, an intricate pattern of glowing lines twisting and turning in upon itself endlessly. Valentine could have watched it for hours. Next to that, a twelve-foot-long dragon lay curled around a tree, light gleaming dully on its golden scales. Valentine was never quite sure whether that was one representative or two. He'd never heard the tree say anything, but then the dragon didn't have much to say, either. And finally, there was the individual Valentine always thought of as Mr. Perfect. A massively muscled figure, developed almost to the point of caricature, he stood with his arms across his massive chest, staring commandingly at his visitors. Valentine always felt an overwhelming urge to sneak up behind him and goose him. Except he probably wasn't really there.
    There was no guarantee anyone was. The images could be coming from anywhere.

    They had no reality outside the recipient's mind. Valentine was familiar with that feeling. It occurred to him that Hood might be seeing something completely different. He'd have to compare notes later. He'd been quietly trying to piece together some idea of who was behind the images for some time, but to no effect.
    The esper representatives were extremely paranoid about their secrets, and with good cause. The reward for esper rebellion was death. Eventually. The cavern was silent, but the air was tense and brittle with the unspoken speech of the telepaths. Hood leaned in close beside Valentine.
    "I can just about tap in on what's going on. Listen through me."
    A sharp prickling wrapped around Valentine's head like a halo of barbed wire, and slowly he became aware of a soft susurrus of voices filling the chamber.
    They meshed and intersected without colliding, a hundred voices speaking all at once without confusion or loss of meaning. The voices were more than just words: thoughts and feelings and impressions rolled around each other, adding tartness and flavor. And underlying the music of gathered minds, the hard unyielding beat of six major minds: conferring, directing and deciding. Valentine's mind swayed with the rhythm, but held itself apart and intact. The impact would have been too much for the normal human mind to cope with, but Valentine's mind wasn't normal anymore. Not after all the things he'd done to it. He hung on the fringes, savoring what he could, fascinated. If this is what the esper drug can do, I want it. And to hell with what it costs me. He sensed as much as heard Hood's laughter beside