Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

unrepentant villain, but there were lines even he wouldn't cross. Genocide . .
    . cold-blooded murder on a planetary scale . . . For the first time, Brett had to seriously wonder if he was on the right side . . .
    "You have to make allowances for Rose," said Finn. "On the grounds that if you don't, she'll kill you.
    Now pay attention, Wallace. And leave your nose alone. You can have your medic reset it after we're gone. You and your Neuman associates will provide me with whatever support I deem necessary, and in return I will bring down the King and replace the exisiting system with one more amenable to your beliefs.
    Namely; myself. Until then, I and my associates will remain silent about what we know. You're welcome to try and kill me, of course, but if you do and I find out about it, I'll have Rose rip your guts out and make you eat them before you die. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Rose?"
    "Love it," said Rose, and Wallace and Brett both shuddered at what they heard in her voice.
    "And there are of course hidden records of what I know," said Finn. "Extensive, very well hidden records. The Neumen have a new partner. Get used to it."
    "I like this place," Rose said unexpectedly, and they all turned to look at her. Her rosebud mouth stretched into a slow scarlet smile. "So much death in the air ... So much slaughter and suffering planned in little rooms like this ... I find it all so exciting . . ."
    "You really are weird, Rose," said Brett.
    "I try," said Rose.
    Finn's final stop surprised Brett even more, even though he'd never trusted the man they'd come to see.
    Brett had never had any time for Saints, especially those created by the media. Angelo Bellini, also known as the Angel of Madraguda, lived very comfortably in a small Church in the most fashionable part of the Parade of the Endless. A Cardinal in the Church of Christ Transcendent, Angelo was rarely off the vidscreen, forever pontificating on some important matter of the day. His uncomplicated charm and bluff honesty appealed to a hell of a lot of viewers, all too many of whom loved him uncritically and hung on his every word, rushing to donate their money to whatever cause he was pushing that week. Brett knew another con man when he saw one, just as he had no trouble recognizing someone who loved the sound of their own voice just as much, if not more, than the message he was supposed to be putting across.
    Angelo himself was a medium-sized, more than a little overweight man who saved his impressive Cardinal's robes for public appearances only. In the comfort of his own private rooms, he dressed in flowing robes that he wore unbelted, to help disguise his waistline, and spoke softly, as though saving his voice for more important occasions. He had a thick mane of jet black hair brushed back from a widow's peak, a bushy black beard, and a disconcertingly direct gaze. Brett thought he smiled far too much.
    Angelo welcomed Finn and his companions warmly, ushered them into his quietly opulent living room, and made sure they were all comfortable before bustling about organizing coffee and cakes. Finn and Rose declined, but Brett said yes to everything, on principle. His eyes moved greedily over the expensive furnishings and fittings.
    "You live well," said Finn, shooting Brett a warning glare.
    Angelo shrugged disarmingly. "It's my job to raise funds for good causes. That means playing host to some very important people, sometimes, and I have to be able to put them at their ease. Make them comfortable. So there's nothing to distract them from the message I need to put across."
    "Wouldn't poverty and humble surroundings impress them even more?" said Brett, his mouth half full of toffee cake.
    "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" said Angelo, not in the least put out. "But in reality, all that does is make them uncomfortable. Even guilty. That they have so much and others have so little. So they throw you a handful of credits to appease their conscience, and leave as quickly as possible, and do their best to never think about you or your causes again. I'd rather seduce them in, like a spider into its web, get them at their ease, and then hit them with facts and figures; make them see how badly their money is needed.
    How much good a ... reasonably-sized contribution could do. Appeal to the head and the heart. You get more out of them through persuasion than you ever could by beating them around the head. Do try the fudge brownies; I made them myself."
    "Persuasion,"