Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

and women who walked the Madness Maze. Things neither we, nor the Empire, nor the greatest adepts of the oversoul, have ever been able to duplicate in all the years since.
    Now do you understand why the Maze fascinates us so? Why we need so badly to know what the Maze can teach us? Having seen gods at play, how can we bear to be any less?"
    "They didn't look like gods," Lewis said roughly. "They bled, and suffered. They looked . . . like heroes."
    "They were not perfect," the robot admitted, lifting its head again. "We remember many things, that Robert and Constance chose to suppress. The Maze people did terrible, awful things, in their time.
    Unforgiveable things, sometimes. For all their power, they were still only, very, human. But at the end,
    when it mattered, they transcended what they were to become what they had to be; to save us all. At the end, they were all... magnificent."
    "People should see this," said Lewis. "Everyone should be able to see what you've just shown me. It would mean so much to them. Far more than a bunch of old stories, and stylized figures on stained-glass windows."
    "This is for your King and Parliament to decide," said the robot. "And Lewis . . . you have seen only the smallest part of the truth. There are other histories, in our records, that would test your faith-and your belief in your heroes-to the limits. The Rebellion wasn't always the simple conflict between Good and Evil that the accepted version would have you believe. People interpret legends to fit their own needs. Heroes aren't nearly so accommodating."
    "People deserve to know the truth," said Lewis.
    "Even about Owen? What do your people need most now, sir Deathstalker? The lie that comforts, or the truth that damns?"
    Lewis thought about that, all the way back through the twisting tangles of the technojungle, as the robot led him back to the original teleport point. What could Shub know, or remember, that was so bad the AIs believed people wouldn't be able to deal with it, even after all these years? What could the Maze people have done, that Robert and Constance felt obliged to wipe away history, and replace it with legend? What could be worse than knowing Owen Deathstalker was dead? Or ... could the AIs be lying; hoarding ancient knowledge for their own secret reasons? By the time they reached the teleport point, Lewis was frowning so hard over his churning thoughts that he'd given himself a headache.
    "This is as far as we go," said the robot. "You must decide what to do next, Lewis. We trust you to make the right decision. You are, after all, a Deathstalker."
    "You have no idea of how tired I am of being told that," said Lewis. "I always thought it was more important that I was a Paragon, but-" A sudden thought struck him, and he looked sharply at the robot.
    "I knew there was something I'd forgotten. Something I meant to ask you. What does Shub think about the Mog Mor aliens, and their offer? Could the Swart Alfair really have new, unknown tech that could save us from the Terror? Tech that's possibly even greater than yours?"
    "It doesn't seem likely," said the robot. "A greater probability would be that they are bluffing, to take advantage of the situation. But, on the other hand ... we had no idea this species even existed before they chose to make their presence known to the Empire. They hid themselves, from the Empire and from us, by entirely unknown means, for unknown centuries. So they must have something. You may have to promise them at least some of what they want, to find out what they've got. We understand the concept of bargaining, and the making of deals. We would offer Humanity whatever they might ask of us, in return for access to the Madness Maze."
    "Don't start that again," said Lewis, just a little testily. "I told you; I don't have that kind of influence with the King anymore."
    "You heard Captain Silence's words. Tell the King, and your Parliament. It was always intended that we should all go through the Maze, and become more than we are, so that we could oppose the Terror. It was what the Maze was constructed for. And it was Owen's last wish . . ."
    "You're like a dog with a rat," said Lewis. "You just can't leave it alone, can you? For what it's worth; I
    believe you. I'll do what I can, to convince the King and the House. But it seems . .. I'm not everything I used to be."
    "You are a Deathstalker," the robot said forcefully. "You bear the Owen's ring. Perhaps . . . you should go through the