Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

after week. Anne fed dirt to the media, James appeared on all the right shows and charmed everybody, and Finn… went suddenly missing. It caught Anne by surprise. She went to him for one of their routine strategy meetings, and his office was empty. She found a brief note saying he'd had to go to Haden. Right away. Anne took that rather badly. How could he just swan off and leave her, right in the middle of things? What could possibly be so important that he'd had to leave her in the lurch without any warning?
    The news broke a few days later, and then she understood at once. It seemed the scientists working on Haden, studying the Madness Maze from what they fervently hoped was a safe distance, had been keeping a secret. Ten thousand brave souls had passed through the Madness Maze some two hundred years earlier, only to die horribly— which was why the Maze had been placed off limits ever since. Only now, that turned out to be not strictly true. Twelve men and women had survived. Strangely gifted and completely insane, they were still alive after two centuries, confined to one special annex of the Maze.
    Finally, the news had got out. The twelve were no longer a secret. Anne swore loudly. Of course Finn had to go to Haden, and see these people for himself. Because if people could go through the Madness Maze and survive, that changed everything.
    Finn Durandal headed for Haden on the starcruiser Halcyon, captained by one Elspeth Wagner. Both she and the rest of the crew were Finn's people, loyal directly to him rather than to Pure Humanity and the Church Militant. Finn trusted them, in as much as he trusted anyone. He had to get to Haden first. He didn't want Church Militant fanatics anywhere near the Madness Maze or the twelve survivors. The Church demanded access to the Maze as a central part of their dogma, and this news would only inflame them. Finn needed to learn as much as he could, and then get the hell offplanet and slap down a major quarantine around Haden so that no one else could get in.
    Knowledge was power.
    As for Pure Humanity; God alone knew what those crazy bastards would do. Could you still be Pure, after you'd been through the Maze and it had worked its changes on you? Finn wouldn't put it past them to try to turn their transmutation engines on Haden. So, in and out, and then the quarantine.
    Finn paced impatiently back and forth in his cabin as the fastest ship in the Imperial Fleet took him to Haden, that ancient and treacherous world of transformation and dark miracles—and apparently even more secrets than had been suspected. He studied the limited available information over and over again.
    Twelve survivors, out of ten thousand. All of them very powerful, all of them extremely insane. Still alive and thriving after two centuries of captivity. Finn owed his advance knowledge to the robots of Shub, who were repaying him for the access he'd got them to the Maze. Human scientists had chosen to keep the survivors secret, but the AIs of Shub didn't believe in witholding data.
    It seemed the survivors exhibited powers and abilities far beyond any of the Empire's espers, and the then—King and Queen, Robert and Constance, had backed the scientists to the hilt when the news was first presented to them. They didn't want the survivors to be used as weapons by terrorists, or to give false hope to all those people still clamoring to be allowed into the Maze. Twelve crazy uber-espers were
    enough. Especially since they were all decidedly… disturbing.
    Finn wasn't traveling alone. He'd brought with him one of his creatures from the Rookery, a certain Dr.
    Happy. However, since the good doctor was also in his own way pretty damned disturbing, Finn mostly insisted Dr. Happy remain in his own cabin, if only so he wouldn't freak the rest of the crew. Dr. Happy was a dealer in drugs and potions, as much alchemist as scientist, who'd raised altering states of consciousness to an art form. From love potions to battle drugs, uppers, downers, and the occasional trip sideways, Dr. Happy had more ways of messing with your brain than a butcher with a new cleaver and a really nasty sense of humor. The good doctor could make you feel any way he wanted, which included some emotions that had been considered purely theoretical until he came along. Dr. Happy could make you sing in colors, plait lightning, or speak in tongues with people who weren't even in the same time zone as you. For the right price, of course.
    The