Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

his chair, smiling calmly.
    "You're Neuman," he said, as though they'd never been interrupted.
    "Just like everyone else who matters on the Transmutation Board. Pure Humanity has spent years, and a great deal of money, infiltrating its entire structure. I'm a Paragon. It's my job to know things like that.
    Don't look so terrified, Wallace. I'm not here to arrest you. I could have done that long ago, if I'd wanted to. But ... I had a feeling the information might come in handy someday. Let him go, Rose."
    Rose let go of Wallace, made her dagger disappear, and went back to leaning against the door again.
    Wallace stood where he was, sweat shining on his face, until Finn indicated it was all right for him to sit down again. Wallace all but collapsed into his chair.
    "Now then," Finn said easily. "Be a good man, and explain why you and your associates have gone to such lengths to take over the business of the Transmutation Board. Be brutally honest. Or I'll let Rose have you."
    "It was necessary," said Wallace, his voice strained but steady. "Necessary to protect the Empire. From the alien scum who'd destroy our human way of life, if they could. The Board chooses uninhabited worlds to be reduced by transmutation to necessary materials. It's part of the Board's charter to investigate these worlds thoroughly beforehand, and ensure they contain no lifeforms of any worth or interest. Dead worlds. Empty worlds. Grist for the mill. We saw that as a ... wasted opportunity. Neumen now decide Board policy. For years we have been secretly searching out new worlds with intelligent alien life, and giving them over to transmutation. Wiping out whole species before they become a threat to us. To Pure Humanity."
    "Genocide," said Finn.
    "Yes," said Wallace.
    "Jesus . . ." said Brett, but no one looked at him.
    "I don't care," said Finn. "The King wouldn't approve of what you've been doing, but I don't approve of the King. So let us work together, you and I, against a common enemy."
    Wallace didn't actually relax, but some of the tension went out of him. "I didn't know you believed in the Neuman philosophy . . ."
    "Oh I don't," said Finn. "I don't believe in anything much anymore, apart from myself. We will be allies of convenience, nothing more."
    "Everything we do, we do in Humanity's name," said Wallace. "I did wonder, when you came here,
    whether you knew what we had arranged for this morning's Session of Parliament. We never actually expected it to work, but. . it was a signal of our intent. Our serious intent." "What is he talking about?"
    said Brett.
    "They tried to blow up the King," said Finn. "It's all over the Paragons' emergency channel. They failed.
    The Deathstalker saved Douglas. He always was a conscientious sort. Humorless little prig. I'll have to think of something especially amusing to do to him. Carry on, Mister Wallace. You were justifying yourself."
    "It was always meant that this should be a human Empire," said Wallace, his voice rising as he warmed to his cause. "Aliens compete with us for living space. They eat our food, breathe our air, live on worlds that should be ours. They undermine our way of thinking, corrupt our beliefs, . threaten our Purity.
    They must be subjugated or destroyed, for our own protection. Before they do it to us."
    "Now that really is bullshit," said Brett. "I don't care," said Finn.
    "Well I do!" Brett said hotly. "Some of my friends are aliens!" Wallace sneered at him. "Yes. You look the type. Degenerate." "Oh no," Rose said unexpectedly. "That's me." She moved away from the door again, and punched Wallace in the face. His head rocked under the impact, and they all heard his nose break. Blood ran down his face. He put up an arm to protect himself, and Rose grabbed his wrist and twisted it so painfully he cried out. Rose smiled and leaned in close. He tried to flinch back in his chair, but the wrist lock held him in place. Rose put her face right in front of his. "Brett is one of us. And you don't talk to us that way. Know your place, little man."
    She licked some of the blood off his face, her tongue moving slowly over his cheek, and he shuddered.
    Rose let go of his wrist, and went back to leaning against the door again. Brett wondered if he should thank her, then decided it was probably wiser not to draw attention to himself, just then. He thought about what Wallace had said, about what the Board had been doing, for years . . . and felt sick. He was a thief and a con man and an