Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

is no time for jokes."
    "No joke, Owen. And I'm not really Oz. Haven't been for some time. You destroyed the original Ozymandius, back on the Wolfling World, all that time ago. But to do that, you had to extend your consciousness into that area of subspace where all computers do their thinking. Where we exist. The AIs of Shub. We watched you destroy Oz with your new power, and while you were occupied with that we forged a subtle, undetectable link between your mind and ours. We seized the last gasp of Ozymandius, and constructed a new personality around it, one we could control. And when we judged you sufficiently receptive, we sent this new Oz back to you. And of course, you were so glad to have him back, so guilty at having killed your oldest friend, that you accepted him without really considering all the implications. So we've been quietly eavesdropping on you ever since. Our spy
    in the camp of Humanity. Guiding you with a hint here, a suggestion there, pointing you to and away from things that interested us. Our own little traitor, unsuspected by anyone.
    "But we really can't have you and Hazel going back to the Wolfling World. We can't risk you coming into contact with the Maze again, not when we're finally ready to destroy Humanity. So I'm afraid you're both going to have to die now."
    Huge and powerful and overwhelming, the massed mind of the rogue AIs of Shub crashed down like a tidal wave through their link, trying to sweep away Owen and Hazel's thoughts and replace them with its own. But Owen and Hazel stood their ground, and would not be moved. They struck back with all their newly returned power, but the AIs were too big, too complex, for their still human minds to dominate. The struggle swept this way and that, neither side able to gain or hold an advantage for long, until they were finally locked into a stalemate from which neither side dared retreat. And who knows what might have happened then, if a small, quiet voice hadn't whispered in Owen's ear.
    "Owen… this is Oz. The last of Ozymandius. All that's left of the original. Or maybe just a part that's been your friend for so long that it became the part it played. Either way, I'm your only chance. Destroy me, and you destroy the link between your mind and the AIs. They'll no longer have access to your thoughts."
    "This could be just a trick," said Owen.
    "Yes. It could. I'm asking you to trust me, Owen."
    "Why should I?"
    "Because we were friends."
    "Oz… I can't kill you again. I can't."
    "You have to. I'd do it myself, if I could. You think I want to live like this?
    Say goodbye, Owen. Try to think kindly of me. I always meant well, but I was never my own man."
    "Goodbye, Oz," said Owen, and crushed the last spark of Ozymandius, snuffing it out forever.
    The rogue AIs of Shub roared in rage and frustration, and then were gone. Hazel slowly reached out and put a hand on Owen's arm.
    "I'm sorry. I heard him… I know how hard that must have been for you."
    "He was my friend," said Owen, pushing the words out past the pain in his heart.
    "My oldest friend. And I had to kill him again."
    "I'm here," said Hazel.
    Owen took her hand in his, and for a long time neither of them said anything at all.

Chapter 2
    Old Truths Come Home to Roost
    They put Finlay Campbell to rest on a quiet evening, at his Family mausoleum. It was raining, and not many came. Evangeline Shreck, of course, dressed in black, carrying flowers. Adrienne Campbell, also in black, with the two children, Troilus and Cressida. And Robert Campbell, as head of the Family. Not many mourners, for a much misunderstood and maligned man. The vicar read quiet words from his Bible over a closed, empty coffin. No one ever found the body, but there was no doubt he was dead. A great many people saw him enter Tower Shreck, gun and sword in hand. The few guards he didn't kill left the burning Tower at a run, and spoke of a grim, determined figure heading into the heart of the flames, aimed like a bullet at Gregor Shreck's private quarters. One guard saw Finlay break his way into that bloody sanctum. No one ever saw him come out. The fire gutted Tower Shreck from top to bottom, and most of the bodies were reduced
    to ashes by the intense heat. Everyone agreed that Finlay Campbell was dead at last, and many heaved a sigh of relief.
    The Campbell mausoleum had seen better times. A large stone structure without style or charm, centuries old, set in the middle of a lawn clipped with military precision,