Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

My work with Flynn during the rebellion has already been hailed as classic material, and at any given time it’s a safe bet that somewhere some station is still running it. The public can’t get enough of it. The royalties are coming in faster than even I can spend them. So much money that even the company accountants can’t hide it all. Flynn and I need never work again if we don’t want to. But…” “Yeah?” said Hazel.
    “But we’re too young to retire,” said Flynn. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
    “Right,” said Toby. “And I can’t help being haunted by the horrible suspicion that perhaps I’ve already done my life’s best work. That everything I do from now on is bound to be second best. That’s a hell of a thing to feel at my age. I need a real story, something I can get my teeth into. Something that matters.”
    “We are rebuilding a whole Empire pretty much from the ground up,” said Owen. “Our whole political and social structure is changing day by day. I can’t believe you can’t find a story worth covering.” “Oh, there’s no shortage of news. History in the making and all that. But it’s all so bloody worthy and open and honest and dull. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the drama? Even the villains are second-rate nowadays.” “No,” said Owen. “I wouldn’t say that. Valentine Wolfe is still out there somewhere.”
    “Ah, yes,” said Toby. “I’d heard you’d had another run-in with him. I’m looking forward to hearing your report on that. At least you two are still around, making waves. Everyone else has pretty much disappeared. Jack Random is too busy playing politics to get into any real trouble, and Ruby Journey rarely leaves her house these days. Though word has it they may be making an appearance here today.
    Maybe they’ve heard something. God, I’ve got some great footage of the four of you in action during the rebellion, stuff that never saw the light of day. Maybe when we’re all safely dead…” “Yeah,” said Hazel.
    “Maybe. But until then I think some secrets should stay hidden. People don’t need to know everything that went on.” There was a certain amount of shared nodding. Nobody mentioned the fake Young Jack Random, who’d turned out to be a cyborg working for the rogue AIs of Shub, but they all knew they were thinking of the moment when Flynn’s camera had caught the machine’s unmasking. And there were other, darker, secrets too. The rebellion hadn’t been nearly as straightforward as most people thought.
    “So,” said Toby briskly, breaking the awkward moment, “have either of you thought any more about my offer to make official documentaries of your lives? You don’t have to worry about the writing; we have people for that. Just talk into a recorder, and we’ll arrange the material and dig up footage to go with it.
    We can fake some linking material to cover the areas you don’t want to talk about. All you’ll have to do is narrate over the final footage. Easy money. Get it while it’s going; who knows how much longer people are going to stay interested in you?”
    “The sooner everyone loses interest in us, the better,” said Hazel. “No biographies, Toby. We have little enough privacy as it is. Besides, most of my life story isn’t suitable for a mass audience anyway.” “I can quite believe that,” said Owen. “Let us change the subject rapidly. How’s your life, Toby? Doing anything interesting?”
    “Him?” Flynn sniffed loudly. “He doesn’t have a life outside of his work. First in, last out, and takes work home with him. Typical management. I work the union-approved hours only, and once I clock out, I don’t even think about work again till I clock on in the morning. You should have stayed a working grunt like me, boss. Far less pressure.”
    “You never did have any ambition,” said Toby.
    “Damn right, and proud of it. Ambition just gets you into trouble, and takes over your life. Which is why you have bags under your eyes and incipient ulcers, and I have a wonderful new lover in my life.” Flynn beamed at Owen and Hazel. “You really must come around and meet him sometime. His name’s Clarence, Clarence DuBois. Works as a researcher for the MP John Avon, one of the few marginally honest Members in Parliament. My Clarence does all the real work, of course, so Avon can look good on the floor of the House, but that’s the way of the world for you. He’s very handsome