Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

where all forms of high tech had to be smuggled in past Empire blockades, at great cost to buyer and seller. Either head of port Security paid really well, or Silver hadn't entirely given up on his old piratical ways. Hazel sat opposite Owen, frowning into the dancing flames of the fire. She looked tired and drawn, and older than her years. Something was troubling her, but Owen had more sense than to ask what. She'd only bite his head off. She'd tell him when she was ready, or not at all.
    Silver bustled about being the perfect host, making sure his guests were comfortable, chatting cheerfully about inconsequential things, and pressing large mugs of mulled wine on Hazel and Owen. Hazel just held hers, making no attempt to try it, so Owen took a gulp of his, just to be polite. Normally he
    couldn't stand mulled wine, but this proved to be easy on the palate and hotly spiced, leaving a pleasant warmth behind as it sank past his throat and chest and headed for his stomach. He nodded thankfully to Silver, who pulled up a chair facing his guests and looked at them inquiringly.
    "Fill us in on what's been happening recently," said Owen, when a long pause made it clear Hazel wasn't going to start the ball rolling. "We weren't here long enough to ask questions on our last visit. What's this about a Typhoid Mary and an esper plague?"
    "The Empire smuggled her in," said Silver. "She was an extremely powerful rogue esper, primed and conditioned to kill other espers. People fell dying and brainburned all across the city, and where she passed children woke screaming from their dreams and would not be comforted. She destroyed a lot of good people before she was finally brought down. The Empire's plan had been to kill so many espers that the psionic screen which protects Mistworld would collapse, and the Imperial Fleet could move in at will. That didn't happen. But we came bloody close…"
    "What happened after she was captured?" said Hazel, not looking up from the fire.
    "We deconditioned her," said Silver. "It wasn't her fault. She'd been programmed by mind techs. She works for us now."
    "And you trust her?" said Owen. "The Empire could have planted all kinds of control words in her subconscious. She wouldn't even know they were there till someone triggered them."
    "There were quite a few. We found them. This is an esper world, Deathstalker.
    The depths of the mind hold no secrets from us."
    "How much damage did she cause?" said Owen.

    "Lots. We're still clearing up. Many people in important positions were either killed or brainburned, and for a long time there was chaos in the city as various factions fought for control. The worst of that is over, praise the good Lord, but there's still a lot of jockeying for position going on. Watch your backs while you're here. There's a lot of people who'd kill both of you just so that someone else couldn't have you."
    "So," said Hazel, finally turning to look at Silver. "You're doing all right for yourself then, John?"
    "I'm doing fine," said Silver, blinking slightly at the sudden change of subject.
    "Better than fine. These quarters are a damn sight cosier than that rathole you used to hide out in down by the docks. No, I take that back, now I come to think of it, rats wouldn't have lived there for fear of catching something."
    "Head of port Security is a plum job," said Silver easily. "As long as I keep things nice and peaceful, no one looks too closely at how I do it. So, on the one hand, I crack down hard on the kind of people I used to be, and on the other, I salt away a little here and there, to supplement my pension. It's a hard life, but someone's got to do it."
    "Aren't you worried about Director Steel finding out?" said Owen, not sure whether he should be shocked or not. This was Mistport, after all.
    "Him? He's a bigger crook than I am! No, the one I have to watch out for is Investigator Topaz. If she ever gets anything on me, I won't live to stand trial. In fact, if she ever even looks like getting close, it's me for the mountains on the first gravity sled I can beg, borrow, or steal. How someone that honest ever ended up on Mistworld is beyond me."

    "Law-abiding sort, is she?" said Hazel innocently.
    Silver shuddered, and not from the cold. "That woman is so straight she even distrusts her own shadow. Luckily, she's usually busy chasing bigger fish than me. Let me give you some idea of the kind of person we're discussing here. Did either of you happen to notice the hole in