Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

slowly pushing out everything that wasn't him. One by one he forced the voices back outside his head, where they belonged, and slowly built new mental lids to close over his staring eyes. Until finally he came back to himself, a man alone again, shuddering and sweating and gasping for breath, lying limp as a discarded rag on Finn's harsh gray carpet.
    Brett Random; telepath.
    "You bastards," he said thickly, tiredly. "You bloody, bloody bastards."
    "Welcome back, Brett," Finn said happily. "I was almost sure you would survive. Somehow I just knew someone with your survival instincts would find a way to pull through. So what are you; telepath, precog, polter? Or is it too early to tell yet? No matter. Oh Brett, we're going to have such fun, working out what you can do to help me with your new abilities. You'll thank me, when you've had time to think about it.
    Rose; help Brett up and into a chair. Yes, I know he's rather sweaty and unpleasant at the moment, but we all have to make sacrifices for the cause. Besides; it's not that different from his usual state, really."
    Rose leaned over Brett and took him by the shoulder with one hand, and then both of them froze where they were as their minds slammed together, triggered by the proximity, each of them transfixed in the glaring light of a naked soul. For a moment that had something of forever in it, their thoughts and personalities meshed and mingled, held in the iron grip of Brett's newfound talent. For Brett it was like looking into the sun, blinded by the overwhelming glare of a remorseless, single-minded will, but beyond that he could sense something else; a need like an endless hunger, a despairing need for something Rose couldn't even name. In anyone else, it would have been a need for love, friendship, companions; but such concepts were alien to Rose. She only knew . . . that she needed.
    For Rose, it was like watching a flower unfold, showing new and endless possibilities. She'd never known that the world could be so large, that people could have such potential. Much of what she saw in Brett's mind was alien and confusing to her, like discovering new colors in the rainbow. Brett could feel her digging through his thoughts, trying to make sense of what she found there, and was frightened by a will so much more focused and icy cold than his own. He concentrated, clumsily manipulating his new abilities, and finally closed a mental door between them. And as suddenly as that they fell back into their own heads, two separate souls again. It had lasted only a moment, but in that endless time many things had changed, forever. Brett looked up at Rose, and she looked curiously down at him.
    "That was ... different," she said finally. "I never felt anything like that before. For a while there, you were as real to me as I was."
    "Telepathy!" Finn said happily, clapping his hands together. "What did it feel like?"
    "Shut up," said Rose, not looking around, and Finn did. Rose was still staring into Brett's eyes, as though trying to reestablish the connection between them. "There's so much inside you, Brett. Your mind ... it's so busy, so cluttered, with thoughts and . . . things. Feelings . . ."
    "And you're so alone," said Brett. "How can you stand to be so alone?"
    "I thought everyone was like that," said Rose. "I didn't know ... I had no idea . . . I'm going to have to think about this."
    She hauled him roughly but efficiently to his feet, and dropped him into his chair again. Her face was cold as ever, her mouth as cruel, but Brett thought there was something new in her eyes. He looked away. He couldn't cope with anything but his own problems for the moment. He tugged a grubby handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the cold sweat from his face. His hands were still shaking. Rose sat down in her chair again, her gaze calm but far away. Finn studied them both, with a sardonic raised eyebrow.
    "If I didn't know better, I'd swear the two of you were bonding. You nave no idea how much the very idea revolts me."
    Lewis Deathstalker stood on the edge of the main landing pad of Logres's biggest starport, and pulled his heavy cloak about him. There was a cold wind blowing. Normally, no one except essential staff was allowed out onto the pads, but Lewis had never let such petty technicalities stop him before when he was a Paragon, and certainly not now that he was the Champion. Back in the main terminal a few officious little jobsworths had tried to argue the point with him, only