Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

Jesuit. "I thought I heard something."
    "So you did," said Jack Random, appearing suddenly behind them from the corner they'd just passed. The senior Jesuit spun around, sword in hand, and Random kicked him squarely in the nuts. The Jesuit crumpled to the floor, and Random kicked him in the head. The Jesuit gave up consciousness with something like relief. Ruby Journey punched out the most junior Jesuit, and Storm clubbed down the third from behind while the poor fellow was still trying to figure out which direction to look in first. Ruby looked down at the three unconscious bodies and sniffed loudly.
    "Jesuits. Didn't like them at school and I don't like them now. Let's kill them and fillet them into little pieces as a general warning."
    "Maybe later," said Random. "Right now we need their robes, and I don't want blood on them. Besides, it's a good chance for you to exercise self-control. We don't need to kill these people. We just need their robes. Disguised as Jesuits
    we can go anywhere we like in the complex, and not have to bother about dodging the security cameras."
    "I suppose you're going to claim you planned this as well," said Storm dourly.
    "I expected something like this to come up," said Random airily. "I like to keep my plans flexible. Now, get those robes off them."
    They grinned at each other and set about acquiring Jesuit robes for themselves.
    This involved a certain amount of swapping back and forth as they tried to figure out which robe fitted who the best. None were particularly comfortable, but they finally all ended up in something they could live with. Ruby looked down at the unconscious senior Jesuit and sniggered.
    "So that's what they wear under these robes. I always wondered."
    "I must admit it's been a while since I saw underwear of quite such a startling color," said Storm. "I wonder who gets to help do up the laces?"
    "Save the jokes for later," said Random. "The sooner we free the clones and get them moving, the better. The rebels' agents inside this place risked their lives setting up the route we'll be using, and I don't want that to have been for nothing. Ruby, you've got the map. Lead the way."
    Ruby looked at him. "I haven't got the map. You've got the map."
    "No I haven't…"
    "I've got the map," said Storm. "Dear God, how did you ever manage without me, Jack?"

    Beatrice knew where the clone quarters were, but she'd never been in them before. Not many had. Clones were kept strictly separate from real people. But the entrance was unlocked, unguarded, almost as though they'd been expecting
    her. Or someone. The thought almost brought her to a halt; but in the end she pressed on. She had to. There was nowhere else she could go.
    Beyond the barriers and the electric doors, clone country was stark and utilitarian. Beatrice had thought she'd known what to expect, from tales she'd heard from clone and rebel patients, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality. There were no rooms or living quarters. The clones lived in steel cages and pens, stacked together like some great battery farm. There wasn't an inch of spare space, apart from the single narrow central aisle she was walking down.
    There was a powerful, almost overpowering smell of bodies, packed close together. Beatrice was used to the medical stenches of the hospital tent, but even so she had to fight an urge to hold a hand over her mouth and nose.
    As she passed the steel pens, faces came forward to watch her. Some were missing eyes or ears or noses. Some had no lower jaws, rotted away by the forces they worked with. They made quiet, mewling sounds like tortured kittens. Beatrice came to a halt, in spite of herself. There was nothing she could do to help them, and they couldn't help her. She couldn't blend in with them, which meant she had to get out of clone country before the Investigator found her. But she couldn't just walk on and pretend she hadn't seen this suffering. She looked around her, her hands clenched into fists, caught in a quandary that her conscience wouldn't release her from.
    And then she heard approaching footsteps and gripped her broken bottle tightly, her heart racing. She'd hesitated too long. Shoal had found her. She looked wildly about her, but she knew there was no point in running. She was exhausted, and Shoal… was an Investigator. Beatrice swallowed hard and stood her ground.
    She knew fighting wouldn't get her anywhere, but she was damned if she'd go down without a struggle. She looked