Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

that.
    And if they reminded him just a little of himself, the way he used to be before he was shocked awake, then that just made it all the worse for them.
    "Would you like me to identify these people?" said Oz. "I have all their details
    in my data banks."
    "Sure," said Owen, subvocalizing. "Make yourself useful for once. Hold on a minute—data banks? Where is your hardware these days?"
    "Don't get personal. And pay attention; I'm not running through all this twice.
    We'll start at the left and go clockwise. Beginning with Artemis Daley, a man of many trades. He's a supplier, a fixer. You want it, he can get it for you. Legal or illegal are petty considerations that have never bothered him. If you're late with the payments, he's the one who sends around the legbreakers to reason with you.
    "Next to him, we have Timothy Neeson, banker. He owns this building, and a lot more of Mistport. Number one in a very small field, which means that locally he's very powerful. Nothing of an economic nature takes place in Mistport without him taking a cut somewhere along the line. Next to him is Walt Robbins, the biggest landlord in Mistport. He owns everything the banks don't.
    Specializes in slums and sweathouses, because that's where the most money is.
    "Moving down the other side of the table we have Thomas Stacey. Acts as a lawyer for everyone else here, and for anyone else with enough money to meet his exacting standards. Never lost a case, and that has nothing to do with his legal skills. And finally we come to Matthew Connelly and Padraig MacGowan. Connelly owns and runs the docks, everything from the starport to the landing bays on the River Autumn, and MacGowan runs the dock union. Between them they keep things running smoothly, irrespective of who gets hurt in the process. And there you have the movers and shakers of Mistport, in all their sleazy glory. If you killed all of them right now, the smell of Mistport would improve dramatically."
    "I never knew you knew so much about Mistport," Owen subvocalized.
    "Lot about me you don't know. I am large, I contain wonders."

    "Do you have something to say to us, Deathstalker?" said Neeson, the banker, a large fat man with a straining waistcoat. "Or are you just going to stand there and stare at us all day?"
    "Just gathering my thoughts," said Owen. "We have a lot of history between us, gentlemen. My father's money brought you to where you are today. Deathstalker money, originally intended to fund an information network here in Mistport. He put you into positions of power and influence so that you could keep track of things for him. Instead, you used his money to become major economic forces in this city, becoming so rich and powerful you forgot your original purpose. Or perhaps you simply decided that such things were no longer important to people as rich and powerful as yourselves."
    "Got it in one," said Stacey, the lawyer, long and stringy, with broken veins prominent in his cheeks. "And we've absolutely no intention of becoming politicized again. We don't think in such small ways anymore. We've made over our lives, and we like things fine just the way they are. Among us, we run Mistport; we are the economic lifeblood that keeps this society moving. Mess with us, even threaten us, and the whole city's economy would collapse. We'd see to that. People would lose their savings, money would become worthless, and people would starve as food piled up undistributed on the docks. You can't touch us, Deathstalker. All the people in Mistport would rise up and tear you apart if you even tried."
    "They'd get over it," said Owen. "Once they saw the old corrupt system being replaced by a fairer one."
    "Fairness is a relative concept," said Robbins, the landlord, a short fat barrel of a man. "There will always be rich and poor. We provide stability. You don't
    understand the economic realities of a rebel planet like Mistworld."
    "I understand greed," said Owen. "I understand treachery and self-interest. And I certainly understand bloodsucking scum when I see them."
    "That's good," said Oz. "Win them over with flattery."
    "We know why you're here," said Daley, the fixer, a large hunched man with a brooding face. "You want to take our lives away from us in the name of your rebellion and naive politics. Well, boy, you've come a long way for nothing.
    These days, our influence extends far beyond Mistworld, with investments on many worlds. Even Golgotha. Elias Gutman has been very helpful in