Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

pause, and then Frost and Razor edged cautiously forward and looked down at the unmoving bodies. Frost stirred the Fury with the toe of her boot, but it didn't react. David and Kit came over to take a look, leaning on each other for support. All around them, courtiers were slowly and very warily getting to their feet again and brushing themselves off.
    "I wonder what happened to the real Le Bihan?" said David.

    "Dead," said Razor.
    "Are you sure?" said Kit.
    "He'd better be," said Frost. "That thing was wearing his skin."
    "Damn," said Lionstone lazily, looking at the two inhuman bodies. "Now I'll have to order another Grendel. Relax, people, the excitement's over. That was the only Fury, wasn't it, computer?"
    "That was the only Fury," said the disembodied voice calmly. "However, it is not the only deviation from the norm. The Vicar Roger Geffen, of Cardinal Kassar's retinue, is very definitely not human. Don't rightly know what he is, but according to the sensors, his structure and interior are completely inhuman. I can only assume he is some kind of alien, passing as human."
    "Take the creature alive!" snapped the Empress. "Damn it: this time I want some questions answered!"
    "Sorry," said Geffen, an ordinary and average-looking fellow in a formal surplice. "Can't stay. Things to see, people to do. You know how it is."
    His arms and legs elongated suddenly, his head leaping up on a wildly stretching neck. Different parts of his body stretched and changed shape, absorbing his clothes into himself, while different faces came and went on his ballooning head. People converged on him from all sides, and the alien fell back, collapsed, and splashed like liquid, spattering everywhere. Some of the courtiers tried to pick it up, but the pieces squirmed out of their fingers, rejoined suddenly into one central mass, and fountained up into the air. Razor and Frost tried to cut at it with their swords, but the alien flesh just broke and reformed without taking any injury. And while all this was going on, wide-grinning mouths whooped and laughed and sang a medley of popular show tunes in several different voices. Finally, it pulled its many parts together, spun
    around like a whirlwind, flew up into the air, crashed through the hidden ceiling, and was gone. It suddenly seemed very quiet in the Court. Valentine was the first to stir. "Well," he said. "Somehow I never thought an alien invasion would be so… silly."
    And that was how the Court ended that day. The courtiers filed out as quickly as they could without seeming disrespectful, while the Empress stood on her Throne and screamed furiously at her people to find the alien, capture it, kill it, and dissect it. Not necessarily in that order. The Lord High Dram was one of the first to leave, maintaining a very low profile, and was glad to be well out of it. He had a strong suspicion the alien wasn't going to be found, and he didn't want to be around Lionstone when some poor sod tried to explain that to her.
    Given the creature's shape-changing abilities, it could be anywhere or anything by now. Or anyone. Dram decided very firmly that he wasn't going to think about that. The security sensors would probably track it down eventually, but it was going to be a long, slow process. There was also the problem of how they were going to contain the thing once they'd found it, but Dram decided he wasn't going to think about that, either. He had his own problems.
    The courtiers had been pretty quiet as they hurried out of the frozen Court.
    They all had a lot they wanted to talk about, but they preferred to do it in private. Dram had a lot he wanted to say to Lionstone, but for the moment he thought it would be better to do it from a safe distance, over a secured comm channel. So he made his way back to his private quarters in the Imperial Palace, taking his time in the hope Lionstone might have calmed down a little by the time he got there. As it was, he'd barely got through the door when his viewscreen started chiming insistently. Dram didn't rush to answer it. She was
    going to be in a foul mood anyway, so he might as well enjoy the last few moments of peace he had left. He sank down into a comfortable chair, put his feet up on the footstool that had scurried into position, sighed deeply, and accepted the call. Lionstone scowled at him from the wall. She was still wearing her crown, even though she was calling from her private quarters. This was a dangerous sign. It usually meant