Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

looked around to see who it was, and then backed hastily away as they recognized the short blond with the eyes cold as death. Once her name had been Jenny Psycho, and she had been an avatar of the mysterious and enigmatic uber-esper Mater Mundi, Our Mother of All Souls. Power beyond hope and reason had burned in Jenny Psycho, and the air around her had crackled with potential. She was no longer all that she had been, abandoned by the Mater Mundi, and had now reverted to her old name of Diana Vertue, but she was still a power to be reckoned with, and most people had the good sense to be very nervous when she was around. These days she represented the esper underground in Parliament, mainly because everyone else in the underground was too worried by her to disagree. She made her way forward through the crowd, and people hurried to get out of her way. She stopped before Owen, who bowed politely to her. Truth be told, she worried him a little too, but he didn’t believe in letting people see things like that. “Hello, Diana. You’re looking very normal. What petition might this be?” “To have all the esp-blockers removed from Parliament so we can scan the minds of all present to find out if everyone is who they claim to be.” Diana’s voice was harsh and ragged, and utterly intimidating. She’d damaged her throat screaming in Golgotha’s prison cells, and it had never really recovered. “The esp-blockers must go. It’s not just Shub we have to worry about. Remember the shape-changing alien that turned up at Court? It mimicked a man so exactly that even his friends couldn’t tell the difference. The only way we can maintain real security in Parliament is by mass esp-screening, with no abstentions permitted. Seems a perfectly reasonable request to me.”
    “That’s because you’re weird,” said Gutman, and practically everyone nodded in agreement. “What you suggest is totally unacceptable. Everyone is entitled to the inviolability of their own mind.”
    “For once I have to agree,” said Owen. “We all have secrets that must be kept to ourselves. Even if they’re really only important to us. Or perhaps especially those. But I do see your point. Maybe we could work out some kind of voluntary system…” “Go right ahead,” said Gutman. “You first.”
    Owen smiled slightly despite himself. “Let’s pass this one on to the Church.
    They have experience with confessionals.”
    “We’ll take it under advisement,” said Gutman. “And if that doesn’t suit you, esper Vertue, feel free to take it up with the appropriate subcommittee. At some other time. However, this does lead neatly on to our next piece of business. As part of the deal Jack Random thrashed out with the Families, clones and espers are not longer property but citizens in their own right. Laudable and just as that may have been, it has led to certain unexpected problems. For centuries trade and industry throughout the Empire was based on the unlimited availability of clone and esper labor. They now have to be replaced by paid workers or new technology, both of which are proving extremely expensive. Change is always costly, and someone’s got to pay for it all.
    “Since we’ve finally got the tax computers working again”—and here Gutman and everyone else paused to glare at those responsible for the computers’ destruction, namely Owen and Hazel, who smiled and nodded modestly—“our first thought was a rise in the basic rate of income tax. But the general mass of citizens quickly made it very clear that they regarded this as a very bad idea. They suggested the aristocracy, as the wealthiest among us, should shoulder the bill. The Clans not unreasonably pointed out that their loss of power and control through Random’s deal had already reduced many of them to near
    pauperism, and they really didn’t think it was fair that they should be punished any further. Dark hints were dropped about the collapse of Family industries if they were pressed any further, with all the mass unemployment that would cause. Extensive discussions, negotiations, and any number of committees have quite failed to reach any useful conclusions.”
    “He makes even longer speeches than you do, Owen,” murmured Hazel. “I’m impressed.”
    “And you needn’t look to the undergrounds either.” said Diana. “We’re already having to support the families of clones and espers thrown out of work by new technology. While they were property, the