Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

decided, sinking themselves into each other and in the moment, because that was what the Hellfire Club was all about.
    Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. And to Hell with anyone who gets in the way.
    Afterwards, they all lay nakedly together, sitting or reclining as the sweat cooled and their breathing slowed, while the more subservient members moved among them with refreshing drinks and the more obscure and unpleasant forms of finger food; smiling happily as they were beaten and abused. The hundred or so members of the Hellfire Club who'd been able to make it to this meeting had gathered together to consider the troublesome matter of Finn Durandal. It promised to be a long meeting, but then, they always were. Everyone was determined to be heard. Tel Markham lay stretched out with his head cradled on an accommodating belly, and looked thoughtfully about him.
    Tel Markham belonged to many organizations. Member of Parliament, and the Shadow Court, supporter of Pure Humanity, rector of the official Church, and long-standing devil in the Hellfire Club.
    He'd have joined the ELFs if they'd agreed to have him. Markham believed in obtaining every possible advantage, every possible form of support, on the unanswerable grounds that he never knew when he might need them. He belonged to so many secret and underground organizations that he'd almost lost count. His computers oversaw his extremely complicated diary, and made sure he knew where he was supposed to be, and why. Most of the organizations had no idea of his other connections. It was only polite: they all so loved to believe that they were the only underground that mattered.
    Luckily, these days Markham was such an established Member of Parliament that he only needed to
    make the occasional personal appearance, for the most important of debates. The rest of the time a low-level AI ran his holo for him, and took notes for his staff to study later. They took care of the day-to-day business. That was what staff was for. Attending Hellfire Club meetings messed him about more than most, though, because the Club's inner circle insisted on deciding a new location for every get-together, announced only hours in advance, thus protecting themselves from gatecrashers and infiltrators.
    Markham always made it to as many as he could.
    The Club was currently occupying a deserted church in an area of the city marked for redevelopment. Is the Church deconsecrated? Markham had asked on arriving. It soon will be, he'd been told, and Markham had forced a chuckle.
    Frankie started the discussion. She was a tall, almost unbearably voluptuous woman of a certain age, with sharp vicious features and a great mane of pure white hair that reached all the way down her supple back to her waist. Markham loved to see her breathe, but had enough sense to keep out of her clutches.
    Unlike many of the Hellfire Club, she wasn't playing her role. She'd assassinated twenty-seven people that Markham knew of. Two had been ex-lovers. Markham was pretty sure she was about as inner circle as you could get. Frankie was hardcore all the way.
    The Hellfire Club consisted of circles within circles, from dilettantes and wannabes at the edges, to the deadly philosophers at the very center. You could go in as deep as you wanted, or as deep as you could stand, but somehow there were always more circles inside those you'd thought were the innermost. This was partly to limit the number of people any member could betray if captured, but mostly because not everyone had the stomach for everything the Hellfire Club did. Or planned to do. Markham was in pretty deep, and hoped to go even deeper, but though he was pretty sure he lacked anything even remotely like a conscience, there were still some things he wouldn't do. He was ambitious, not crazy.
    At the core, it was whispered, the founding members' extreme philosophies still survived: complete anarchy for the Empire and Humanity. A new Empire, without conscience or mercy or restraint. Divine chaos, a time of awful pleasures and splendid suffering: where the lesser orders, those outside the Club, would be slaves, objects, mere property, there to do all the necessary useful things, to be subject to their masters' every whim, to live and die at their command; while the Hellfire Club made a glorious Hell on earth for everyone.
    Markham didn't believe in any of that, not least because he didn't plan on sharing his power with anyone, but he had enough sense to keep