Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

tended
    to wander around the point without ever actually touching on it. He was constantly distracted by everything around him, and sometimes by things that weren't, and Angelo was finding it an uphill struggle just to keep Corcoran's attention. He tried to keep the strain out of his face and his voice, and persevered.
    "The Church can offer you protection against the Terror," he said, for what had to be at least the tenth time. "You will be safe with us. Let us get you out of here. They can't hold you here against your will, not if you have the backing of the new Church. All you'll have to do is make the occasional appearance, the occasional speech or two, on our behalf. No pressure, of course. Whatever you feel comfortable with.
    And we'll find you a really secure place; somewhere the Terror could never find or reach you. We want to be your friend, Donal. The Church is your friend."
    "You want me to speak to people," said Corcoran, holding his hands up before his face, and turning them back and forth as though he'd never seen them before. "Praise the Church and pass the panacea.
    Bullshit. Bullshit! You can't hide behind your precious religion now, little angel. There'll be nowhere to hide when the Terror comes. I know. The rock cried out, no hiding place ... I don't want to speak to people. I just want to get the hell out of here. Get back to my ship. Back to the Terror . . ."
    Angelo blinked at him confusedly. "You want ... to face the Terror again?"
    Corcoran spun on him, his fingers crooked now into claws, his eyes suddenly inhumanly wide and unblinking, his lips pulled back into a vicious snarl. Angelo fell back a step, despite himself. Corcoran laughed soundlessly.
    "I want to fight the Terror! Kill it! Hurt it, like it hurt me! I can feel it ... I can always feel it ... We're connected now, till death do us part. Screw your protection, Angelo, I want revenge. I want to be free of it. Do you think I don't know what's been done to me? Inside, I'm hurting all the time. Inside, I'm screaming all the time. I'll never be safe, never be free, never be me again . . . until I've torn the Terror apart, burned it down and pissed on the ashes."
    "Well," said Angelo. "That's all very interesting, but . . ."
    Corcoran hugged himself tightly, as though he might fly apart, still fixing Angelo with his disturbing, feverbright eyes. "I see you, Bellini. There are dead men peering over your shoulder. There's something on your hands and it isn't blood, though it's red enough. You think you know revenge . .. You get me out of here, little angel, and I'll show you revenge."
    Angelo had to swallow hard, unable to look away from eyes that seemed to look right through him. This was just like the Ecstatic, who'd also seemed to know things he couldn't possibly have known. What had the Terror done to this man? What had it turned him into?
    "God feels your pain, my son . . ."
    "God? Where was your God, when so many innocents died? I think ... maybe what I saw was God.
    God gone crazy, devouring His own creation. Saturn, eating his children. Get me out of here, Angelo. Or maybe I'll eat you."
    Corcoran was very close to Angelo now, and still the Angel couldn't look away from the dark, dark eyes. He was whimpering, though he didn't know it. And then King Douglas and Crow Jane came striding through the illusionary gardens, breaking the spell, and Angelo was actually pleased to see them.
    He broke away from Corcoran and stumbled over to bow formally to Douglas.
    "Ah, your Majesty. What an unexpected surprise, and a pleasure. May I introduce you to my quite extraordinary new friend, Donal Corcoran? He and I have been having the most fascinating little chat."
    "How the hell did you get in here, Bellini?" demanded Douglas. "And where do you get off, claiming to have official permission? I wouldn't give you permission to clean this places toilets with your own toothbrush. And trying to take advantage of the mentally ill has to be a new low, even for you. Get out of here, now. Before I have the guards throw you out."
    Angelo drew himself up to his full height, and glared at the King coldly. "I represent the Church, and the Church goes where it wishes. Your power derives from a handful of frightened men and women in an outmoded institution, Douglas. Mine conies from the greatest and most powerful religious movement this Empire has ever known. The day will come, and sooner than you think, when your House will have to kneel to my Church; and you