Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

pig, and the rest are worse."

    "Shut up, Gerald," said Crawford.
    "They're not all bad," said Finlay, and there was something in his voice that made the others look at him. He swore inwardly. He used to be better at keeping his identities separate than this. He smiled vaguely and carried on smoothly. "I mean, every Family has a few bad eggs. Even ours."
    "He's looking at me," said Gerald. "Father, make him stop looking at me."
    "Shut up, Gerald," said the Campbell.
    "You like the Shrecks so much, you come up with a suitable match," said William.
    "I'm running out of choices."
    "There's always Evangeline," said Adrienne.
    "No," said Finlay. "She's the heir, remember?"
    "Of course," said Adrienne. Finlay looked at her thoughtfully, but it seemed she had nothing more to say.
    "This can all wait," Crawford said heavily. "We have more immediate problems.
    Tell them, William."
    William cleared his throat unhappily. "Despite extensive investigations, we're no nearer identifying which Clan has discovered our links with the rogue AIs on Shub. If they weren't so positive someone has, I'd be tempted to put it down to paranoia. Assuming Artificial Intelligences can be paranoid. Anyway, even if someone has found out, they've made no move to take advantage of it. So far."
    "I have to say I'm still not happy that we are collaborating with Shub," said Finlay. "I mean, they are the Enemies of Humanity, after all. I don't trust them."
    "We need them," said Crawford Campbell flatly. "As long as we have business in common, it's in their interest to play fair. The trick will be for us to bail
    out before they lower the boom on us. It's not going to be easy, but I didn't build this House up by taking the easy options. Keep putting the pressure on, William. Someone will talk eventually. Someone always talks."
    "I want to talk more about this," said Finlay.
    "The subject is closed," snapped the Campbell, and glared round the table to prove it.
    "Then what are we doing here?" said Finlay. "If you're not interested in our opinions, and we're not allowed to discuss anything, we might as well not be here."
    "I said that," said Gerald.
    "Shut up, Gerald," said William.
    "You're here so I can keep you informed on what's happening," said Crawford. "So shut up and pay attention. I don't know what's got into you lately, Finlay."
    "Yes," said Adrienne. "This isn't like you, Finlay. It's an improvement, but it isn't like you."
    Finlay forced himself to relax, sank back in his chair, and made a vague elegant gesture with his hand. "Do carry on, Father. Far be it for me to rock the boat.
    Only do try and hurry it up. I've got a fitting for a new coat in an hour. It's very daring. You'll hate it."
    "The next order of business," said William, doggedly, "concerns the difficulties we're experiencing in our bid for the mass-production contracts on the new stardrive. The Wolfes are increasing their pressure, despite the advantage Shub technology gives us."
    "To hell with the Wolfes," growled the Campbell. "We can handle them."
    "It's the coincidence I don't like," said William. "Someone finds out about Shub, and suddenly the Wolfes are putting the pressure on."

    The Campbell grunted, and leaned over the table. "Horus, talk to me."
    Monitor screens set into the wood of the table lit up before each member of the Family. The Campbells' AI was in charge of all the Clan records, including those that officially didn't exist. Horus' face was a computer simulation: perfect in form but lacking in personality. Crawford didn't believe in machines that imitated human emotions. Or that talked back. Finlay studied the AI's face thoughtfully. He'd noticed before that the AI showed a slightly different face according to who it was talking to; an individually tailored image. Finlay couldn't help wondering if it also tailored its information according to who was asking the questions. It was no secret that the Campbell kept information from other members of the Family, but then so did all the Family. Standard survival policy. Never knew when you might need an ace or three up your sleeve. Finlay also found himself wondering what the AI was showing poor bored Gerald. Maybe it just showed him pretty pictures to keep him quiet.
    "Horus online," said the AI politely. "All functions are available. How may I serve you, sir?"
    "Are our files still secure?" said Crawford. "Have there been any attempts to break into them?"
    "There are always attempts, sir, but so far none have