Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

reappeared? There'd be no way to hide what he'd done with two Evangelines walking around. And there was always the possibility the first clone might tell all anyway, from a safe distance, as a kind of revenge. She'd find it hard to prove anything without revealing herself, but just the accusation would be damaging. Mud sticks, particularly when people want it to. Gregor scowled.
    These days, more than ever, it was vital that he seem above reproach.
    In recent months he'd taken steps to publicly become very religious. He attended all the right services at all the right places, moved in all the right circles, backed the currently fashionable charities and pressure groups, and did everything he could to win the established Church's approval. He needed their support if he was to win himself a place up in the rarefied heights where he deserved to be. However, in order to win the Church's backing, he'd had to set up a public reputation as being purer than pure. This had taken some doing. In
    the past he'd gone his own way, did what he wanted when he wanted, and let his people clean up the mess afterward with money or threats. Typical enough behavior for an aristocrat with money to burn and more hormones than sense.
    Luckily, the Church didn't care much about your past as long as you repented publicly, made a large donation, and put it all behind you. Gregor didn't care twopence for the first two, but balked at the third. There were limits. Still, there was public, and then there was private. As long as he looked good in the public eye, rumored sins could be forgiven. Even ignored. Gregor had never been any good at public relations, but fortunately there were members of his Family who were. They were currently standing just behind him, waiting for his instructions. If they knew what was good for them. Gregor turned to face them, giving them both his best forbidding stare.
    Toby the Troubador was his nephew, loath though he sometimes was to admit it. A short, fat, perspiring fellow with flat blond hair, a ready smile, a mind like a steel trap, and the morals of a starving sewer rat. His main duties and responsibilities were to write up the Family's doings in the best possible light, and then see to it that those reports appeared in all the right places.
    Journals, holo shows, gossip columns. He was a public-relations man, spin doctor, damage-limitations expert, and a first-class liar. He had to be. It wasn't easy making Gregor Shreck look good. The rest of the Clan had their moments, bless their black little hearts, but Toby knew how to handle them. If they didn't toe the line when he needed them to, with a prepared speech here and an appearance there, smiling and waving for the cameras, he just left them out of his reports entirely until they did. After all, the only thing worse then being talked about by everyone is not being talked about by everyone. If your face wasn't in all the glossies and the holo shows, you weren't anyone. Toby
    could make you a celebrity, famous for being famous, if you followed the rules.
    His rules. Namely, do what you like as long as it's entertaining, but only as long as I get to hear about it first, so I can make sure it's got the right spin on it before it hits the streets. Unfortunately, he couldn't order Gregor about like that. If he'd ever been dumb enough to try, Gregor would have ripped out his vocal cords as a warning.
    "Talk to me, boy," said Gregor sharply. "What are you saying about Evangeline at present?"
    "The official line is she's resting, after overdoing it," Toby said smoothly.
    "We haven't specified exactly what she's been overdoing, but the gossips will come up with something. They do so love to speculate. Presumably, you'll let me know when she's rested enough, so I can reintroduce her to society?"
    "I'll tell you what you need to know when you need to know it," said Gregor.
    "How's my current standing with the Church?"
    "Reasonable. Though I do wish you'd learn to watch your language, Uncle.
    Sometimes I think the Church would happily pardon adultery, but not the specific four-letter word used to describe exactly what you were doing. Most people will turn a specifically deaf ear if I pay them enough, whether it concerns obscenities or political malaprops; but sooner or later you're going to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong people, and there won't be a thing I can do to help you."
    Gregor sniffed. "It was your idea for us to get into bed with the Church in the first