Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

No one wanted to shake Rose’s hand. Leslie came forward, and smiled meaningfully at Brett.
    “We’re delighted to have you and Rose aboard, of course, but you do understand that we need you to prove your commitment to the cause?”
    “I thought that might be coming,” said Brett. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
    The crowd parted as several marines brought forward a man, bound and gagged. They forced the man onto his knees before Brett, and his eyes looked pleadingly at Brett.
    “This fool thought he could be a spy among us, and report back to the false Silence,” said Leslie. “Kill him.”
    And Brett knew that even hesitation would damn him. “Of course,” he said. “Rose, do the honors, if you would.”
    Rose smiled happily, and everyone near her shied away. She stepped forward, grabbed the prisoner’s head with both hands, and ripped it away with one savage movement. The body toppled backward, fountaining and spraying blood everywhere. The crowd around him fell back, uttering shocked cries. There were even more cries of shock and distress as Rose kissed the severed head on the lips and then casually threw it away. She bent over the headless body, plunged her hand into its back, pulled out the still pulsing heart, and started to eat it. Several people vomited noisily, and a hell of a lot more looked like they wanted to.
    “Nicely done,” said Brett, in a very nearly normal voice. “But do remember to brush your teeth with especial vigor tonight. Anything else we can do for you, Leslie?”
    “No . . . not for the moment,” said Leslie, perhaps not as strongly as he would have liked. “We’ve set up a secure channel, so that you can talk to us freely at any time, without it showing up on the comm officer’s instruments. We can also arrange ship-to-ship communications, as necessary. But now, we have someone special who wants to welcome you to the cause.”
    A viewscreen flared into life on the wall beside them, and Brett’s heart jumped painfully in his chest as the classically handsome features of the Emperor, Finn Durandal, appeared on the screen, smiling warmly.
    “Ah, my dear Brett,” said the Emperor. “So good to see you safe and sound, after so many adventures. Come home, dear boy, and all shall be forgiven. We’ll be together again, just like the old times. Won’t that be fun? You know we belong together. We are the same kind, we see the world in the same way. Why did you leave me, Brett?”
    “Because . . . I thought I saw better opportunities,” said Brett.
    “Ah. I should have known. Return to me, and you shall never have to want for money again. I shall deny you nothing. And . . . do bear in mind how easy it was for me to find you, and arrange this little chat. My people are everywhere, loyal unto death and beyond. Say that you’ll be mine again, dear Brett.”
    “Why not?” said Brett. “After all I’ve been through with Lewis, after all I’ve done for him, I’m still not one penny richer than when I started.”
    “Am I welcome too?” said Rose.
    “Why, of course, dear Rose,” said Finn. “I have missed your blessed madness most of all.”
    “Will I get to kill lots of people?”
    “Lots and lots,” said Finn.
    “Good to be back,” said Rose.

    Admiral John Silence sat straight-backed in his command chair on the bridge of the Havoc . It felt good to be back in the military. To be involved, to be hands-on, instead of pulling strings from the shadows as Samuel Chevron. He’d never felt entirely comfortable in his role as Humanity’s secret protector. He’d always been happier when things were out in the open. He could do subtlety, but it didn’t come naturally to him. And he enjoyed the open respect he got from the crew of the Havoc . He might not be as much of a legend as the blessed Owen, but he was one of them; a military legend. Which was why they had preferred to be led by him, rather than by the ex-Champion with the legendary name.
    Silence turned to his comm officer. “Check the formation of the fleet. Make sure that all of the Mistworld and Virimonde ships are keeping up and holding their positions.”
    “Yes, Admiral.”
    Silence didn’t really need to be told. He always knew when some of his ships were going astray. His two times in the Madness Maze had changed him, enlarged him, if not so ostentatiously as Owen and the others. The layout of his fleet was as familiar to him as his own body. He also knew that there were disloyal