Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

scientists with it, without Dram looking over their shoulders. And if I couldn't have the past's technology, I couldn't see why anyone else should.
    Anyway; Shub has decided that it wants that old tech. The AIs have an endless thirst for knowledge. And you are one of the very few people who might be able to get into the crypt. Without my body, I can't shut down the booby traps or the stasis field. And Shub can't teleport past a stasis field. But with my coaching, you should have little real trouble gaining access to the crypt, and the treasures it holds.
    "And what do you get out of this?" said Random. "A chance to clone yourself another Dram?"
    I think not, said Lionstone. I've moved beyond such things. I'm a part of Shub now, and I want what the AIs want.
    "All right," said Random. "It all seems straightforward enough. But if it should turn out that any of the tech we find could be of use to me, in my mission, I want my share. I also want a guarantee that you'll keep Ruby off my back."
    Of course. Would you like her killed?
    "No! Not that you could anyway, but… Ruby is my business. To deal with as I see fit. No; just make sure she can't find me. You can do that, can't you?"
    Of course. Your terms are quite satisfactory. We are now partners. If this business goes well, we can discuss further deals and relationships later. Shub is the inevitable victor of this war, Jack. Humanity cannot hope to stand against so many foes. Join with us. Become as I have, free from the restrictions of mere flesh. There is power and glory here, Jack, beyond your wildest dreams.
    "Why me? What makes me so special to Shub?"
    Your powers. Your abilities. They fascinate the AIs. Come and join us. Jack.
    You'll have to give up your humanity, but you really won't miss it much. It's such a small thing, in the real scale of things.
    Random sniffed. "Let's see how this deal with the Devil works out first. When do you propose to teleport me to the crypt?"
    No time like the present, said Lionstone.
    And in a moment. Jack Random was gone, and the lockup garage stood still and silent and quite empty.

    Ruby Journey stood leaning with her back to the door of the lockup garage, looking inconspicuously about her. She was wearing her old dark leathers and white furs, her sword and her gun, and looked every inch the bounty hunter and professional killer she had once been. Nobody bothered her. This was an area where people minded their own business, if they knew what was good for them.
    Much like all the other districts Ruby's search had led her through, as she checked one possible bolthole after another. Jack Random had gone to great lengths to hide behind any number of cutouts, false names, and carefully faked corporate identities. The city guard could have searched for years, and found nothing but blind alleys, false leads, and expertly laid trails that only disappeared into a tangle of dead ends. Jack Random knew everything there was to
    know about being on the run. But Ruby Journey knew all there was to know about being a bounty hunter, and chasing fugitives was second nature to her. And it helped a lot when she knew how her prey thought.
    In some respects, the trail had almost been too easy to uncover. As though Jack had wanted her to find him. Perhaps he did. The mind can work in funny ways when you're on the run. The urge to turn and face your pursuer, and get it over with, can be almost overwhelming. It didn't matter. She would find him, and kill him, and that would be that. Ruby Journey had known many ups and downs in her long career as a bounty hunter, but she'd never once failed to deliver on a commission, once she'd accepted it. It was all Random's fault anyway. She didn't give a damn how many people he killed, or why, but by cutting all his ties to Parliament, he'd threatened her hard-won security, and she wouldn't, couldn't, let him endanger that. She'd been a rebel, fought the good fight, and won. As a victor, she was entitled to the spoils. And though her new life might not be everything she'd hoped, it beat the hell out of starving on Mistworld. She couldn't, wouldn't, go back to what she used to be. Not for anything, or anyone.
    She turned and studied the anonymous lockup door. Solid steel, maybe an inch thick. A lock that would take hours of skill and patience to crack. Just like all the others. They hadn't kept her out either. She let her fingertips trail across the smooth, cold steel. Jack might be in there, or he might not. Once,