Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

went to retrieve his cloak from the coatrack. His first thought was that the Iron Bitch had discovered everything and his best bet was to head for the horizon. He ran through the nearest exit routes in his mind, and the quickest ways to get offplanet, and then stopped and made himself take a few deep breaths. Calm slowly enveloped him as his iron will forced out the panic. Lionstone couldn't know everything, or she wouldn't have bothered with a reasonably polite summons. Instead, a squad of armed guards would have kicked in his door and dragged him screaming away. Or at least, they would have tried. One of the secrets he kept hidden from Lionstone was the extent of his personal security defenses.
    So, something must have come up while he was off being Hood. Something she chose not to discuss over an open commlink. Dram ran through the various problems that were currently under surveillance by his people, but nothing obvious sprang to mind. There was nothing immediately dangerous about any of them, for a change,
    or he wouldn't have gone to the underground meeting. He couldn't afford to be found missing in an emergency, and there was a limit to how much Argus could cover for him. He sighed, opened the door, gave the AI his usual commands about maintaining security and not talking to any strange men, and let himself out.
    The quickest way to find out what was going on was to go and ask Lionstone. He just hoped she wasn't feeling amorous. He'd had a long day.
    He walked unhurriedly down the corridor, nodding casually to those he passed. It was important not to look flustered or nervous; that might be construed as signs of weakness. It wasn't enough for him to be strong and in control; he had to be seen to be strong and in control. Otherwise the vultures started gathering.
    People bowed low as he passed and made way for him. Whatever had happened, it hadn't filtered down to the lower orders yet. Dram couldn't help noticing increasing levels of security as he approached the Empress' private quarters, including some he hadn't seen before. Either Lionstone was feeling insecure again, or there'd been some new attack on her during his absence. There shouldn't have been. If the elves or the clones had been planning anything, he'd have known about it. And there'd been nothing new in the last reports from his agents. But everywhere he looked there were more guards, cameras, sensors, and undoubtedly a great many more he couldn't see. His back began to itch in anticipation of unseen weapons following his every movement. He had no doubt they were there. He'd had most of them installed. His esp suddenly shut down as he came within range of a new esp-blocker, and that definitely was new. Usually Lionstone was happy to settle for having one in her quarters. There was always a long waiting list for a new esp-blocker, and there always would be as long as it took a whole esper to make one.

    He came to the reinforced airlock that was the only entry to the Empress'
    private quarters, and the six guards on duty (tour more than normal) crashed to attention. Dram casually acknowledged their salute and stood calm and easy as the security sensors established he was who he seemed to be. He wasn't carrying any of his usual weapons; even he wasn't allowed to go armed into the Empress'
    private chambers. The airlock swung open with a low hiss of equalizing pressures, and he stepped inside. It was only just big enough to take him, and he felt increasingly claustrophobic as the door cycled shut behind him. The shape of the airlock usually suggested some selfconscious womb imagery, but he wasn't in the mood. The interior door swung open, and he stepped out into the Empress' private domain. And there to meet him were the only other people Lionstone ever allowed to share her privacy: her maids. They glared at him, growling deep in their throats, and then moved reluctantly aside as he strode confidently forward. Dram wrinkled his nose. The air was thick with the Empress'
    current favorite perfume, there to disguise the poison in the air that he and the maids had been immunized against. It wasn't a subtle deterrent, or a subtle perfume, but Lionstone wasn't a subtle person in private. She didn't have to be.
    You could tell that from the furnishings.
    The large room was crammed with furniture, paintings, statuettes; all of them unique. Only the lower orders had to make do with copies or holo duplicates.
    Gold and silver and precious gems gleamed