Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

beyond hope at what the abomination had done in their minds and through their bodies. But at long last they were themselves again, and because they were Paragons, their spirits were not broken.
    Kelly Fox was short, slender, gamine. Pale of face, with almost colorless blond hair. There was blood and vomit down the front of her tattered tunic. Yvonne Church was a giant Valkyrie of a woman, with a wide fan of jet-black hair, olive skin and sharp patrician features. Her blouse was ripped open to the waist, and she pulled it shut with trembling hands. Avraam Dusk had skin so dark it was almost blue, wrapped in what had once been pure white robes. White hair fuzzed his skull in places, where the uber-esper hadn't bothered to shave it regularly. One of the fingers on his left hand was missing. The uber-esper had bitten it off and eaten it, just to savor the experience.
    Weakened, sickened, almost maddened by the experience of their long possession, they held each other for a while, drawing what comfort they could from simple human closeness, and then they stood apart,
    and looked around them at a city in chaos. People were running and screaming in the streets, while all kinds of traffic roared uselessly in every direction. Looting had begun, and fires were breaking out.
    People had started jumping from high buildings. The sky was purple now, with bloodred clouds covering the sun, as though to hide the vulnerable sun from the awful thing that was coming.
    "It'll be here soon," said Kelly, rubbing the palms of her hands against her hips as though they would never be clean again. "We have to do something."
    "We have to get offworld," said Avraam. "We must let the Empire know that ELFs are possessing the Paragons."
    "No," said Yvonne. "First, we have to save Heracles Four."
    Avraam looked at her. "I'm open to suggestions."
    Kelly was crying now, tears rolling down her jerking cheeks. "There's nothing we can do. She left us nothing. She…"
    "We know," said Avraam. "We all remember what she made us do. But we have to be strong now, Kelly. These people need us. That's what being a Paragon is all about: being strong when others can't."
    "You always were a pompous bastard, Avraam." But the tears stopped, and Kelly nodded jerkily. "All right. Paragons, first and foremost. But what the hell can we do?"
    "We launch our ship from the starport," said Yvonne. "No one will have got past the defenses on our ship. We go up, we drive straight at the herald, wait until we're right on top of it, and then overload the stardrive. I don't care what the herald is; an exploding stardrive could blow out a sun like a candle."
    "Theoretically," said Kelly. "No one's ever actually tried it, as far as I know."
    "No one's ever had to, before," said Avraam.
    They looked at each other for a while, and then Yvonne shrugged. "What the hell; it's a good day to die."
    "Suicide is a sin," said Kelly.
    "Not if you take your enemy with you," said Avraam.
    "What is death, but a release from our memories?" said Yvonne. "For us, death will be a comfort."
    "You always were a spooky cow," said Kelly, but for the first time there was a hint of a smile on her pale lips.
    They strode off through the city, ignoring the panicked souls running blindly around them. It wasn't that far to the main starport, after they commandeered a car. They had to kill the driver to get it, but they couldn't let themselves think about that. Every time they saw a floating news camera, they slowed the car and called out to the camera, trying to get word out of what had been done to them and the other Paragons. But every time they tried, the cameras shut themselves down. They'd been programmed to do that. Finn thought of everything.
    The Paragons roared across the empty landing pads, and pulled up next to their ship, theHarrow . It didn't take them long to power up the ship, and soon they were punching through the planet's atmosphere, heading for space and the herald. They sat close together on the bridge, still drawing what comfort they could from each other. Sometimes they held hands. It helped. They were all tired, deathly tired, in body and in spirit, but duty and honor drove them on. That, and one last chance to strike a blow at Humanity's greatest enemy.
    The herald soon showed up on their screens. Easily a mile long, the details of its shape seethed endlessly, as though it crawled with maggots, or as though it was unable to settle on just one distinct form. It was utterly alien in shape