Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

all the usual amenities, if few luxuries. Owen and Moon stripped off their soaking wet clothes in one room, while the women were escorted to another. Thick, hot towels were provided, and Owen rubbed himself down briskly, standing as close to the open fire as he could get. Warmth moved slowly through him, and he stretched luxuriously, as self-centered as a cat. He hadn’t known there could be such pleasure in just being dry and warm. Moon went about his toilet with quiet thoroughness, with no obvious signs of enjoyment. The door opened just enough for an arm to throw in two sets of simple but functional clothing, all in gray, followed by the ubiquitous hooded cloaks, and then the arm withdrew and the door closed again. Owen sorted out a set for himself. The clothes seemed sturdy enough, but showed signs of much hard use and washing. More than one leper had these before me, Owen thought uncomfortably, and tried not to wonder how many might have died wearing them. He shrugged mentally and put them on. It wasn’t as if he had a choice. He glanced over at Moon, who was still toweling himself. Metal implants showed clearly all over his pale skin, but that wasn’t what drew Owen’s attention. “Uh, Moon…” “Yes, Owen?”
    “I understood that all Hadenmen were… desexed.” “Yes,” said Moon. “All of the sexual parts are cut away when a human becomes a Hadenman.”
    “But you appear to have a full set of… well, everything.” “Yes,” said Moon. “They grew back. Other changes are taking place in my body all the time. I believe it to be a part of the ongoing changes the Maze is working in me. Certain tech implants have disappeared, absorbed into my body. I don’t seem to need them anymore. I have detected no lowering in my general efficiency. But I am becoming… more
    human.”
    And I’ve been worrying about the Maze making me less human, thought Owen. Owen and Moon made their way to the common room, where the three women were already warming themselves before a roaring log fire. They were also wearing the basic gray clothes provided, complete with cloak and hood, though Hazel had lifted up the back of her skirt so she could warm her bare bottom before the fire. She grinned unconcernedly at Owen.
    “I see you got the basic outfit too. Apparently gray is in this year.” “I hate it,” said Bonnie. “What’s the point of having tattoos and piercings if you can’t show them off to everyone?”
    “I think it’s a vast improvement,” said Midnight. “You’ve done things to your body I wouldn’t to a dead dog.”
    “Prude!” snapped Bonnie.
    “Pervert!”
    “So?”
    Owen gave Hazel a hard look. “All the alternates you could have called up, and you had to choose these two…” “Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, Owen Deathstalker. After all, you married one of them.”
    Luckily the door opened at that moment, and Mother Beatrice came in. Everyone immediately shut up and managed some kind of polite smile. Mother Beatrice laughed.
    “Nothing like a nun entering a room to stop a conversation in its tracks. Don’t worry, when you’re Mother Confessor to a colony of lepers, there isn’t much left that can shock you. I’m afraid those outfits are all the clothes we have to offer you. It’s all the Empire provides. Still, the cloaks and hoods provide a useful purpose in hiding the ravages of the disease in its later terms. Most of the colonists remain largely unmarked, but they choose to wear the cloak and hood too, in a sign of solidarity. There are those who flaunt their deformities, but that’s mostly just a plea for attention. Don’t let them bother you.” She looked at Moon for a long moment, and then turned to Owen. “You should have told me you were bringing a Hadenman with you. I have no objection to his presence, but my people have suffered much at the hands of the augmented men. I can’t guarantee his safety.”
    “That’s all right,” said Hazel. “We’ll guarantee his safety, by kicking the ass of anyone who even looks at him funny.”
    “This is Tobias Moon,” said Owen. “He turned against his own people to side with Humanity.”
    “You mean he’s a traitor.”
    “No, I mean he’s a friend. We’ve been through a lot together. We all vouch for him. That should be enough.”
    “It’s more than enough,” said Mother Beatrice. She put out a hand to Moon, and he shook it gravely.
    “I’m sorry if I seemed a little cold, sir Moon. I’ve never