Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

him.
    “Douglas. It’s been a long time.”
    “Yes. Yes, it has. Hello, Lewis.”
    “Hello, Douglas. A lot has changed, since we last spoke.”
    There was no sign of Jesamine Flowers on the screen. Douglas didn’t ask. “I’ve been talking to one of Finn’s creatures, a Mr. Sylvester. He’s admitted to planting and spreading lies about you and Jes. I’m so sorry, Lewis. I should have known.”
    “I did try to tell you,” said Lewis.
    “I know you did. But I was rather . . . upset, at the time. You and Jes . . . Oh hell, Lewis. Come home. All is forgiven. Can you forgive me?”
    “Of course,” said Lewis. “What are friends for? Even if you did behave like a complete prick.”
    They laughed quietly together, for the first time in a long time.
    “About coming home,” said Lewis. “That’s the point of this message. The fleet is on its way. We should be with you in a day or two. Maybe less, if the stardrives don’t explode under the strain we’re putting on them.”
    “That is good news,” said Douglas. “We desperately need allies with major firepower. Are you up to date on what’s happening here?”
    “Yeah. We never miss Nina Malapert’s broadcasts. How the hell did the uber-espers get that powerful?”
    “Beats the hell out of us. Have you heard anything about Shub?”
    “Just that all their machines have shut down. All our ships’ AIs are offline.”
    “I tried contacting Shub for help when it all went to hell here,” said Douglas, frowning. “No one’s answering. No reply from their Embassy, or their homeworld. That has to mean something.”
    “Could the uber-espers have taken them out? I wouldn’t have thought they could possess artificial intelligences, but . . . Or maybe the Terror’s got to their home planet?”
    “No,” Douglas said immediately. “I’d have heard about that. All the latest reports say the Terror’s still on course, and days away from its next target. What kind of support are you bringing me, Lewis? I could use some good news.”
    “Seven hundred and fourteen starcruisers, plus hundreds of ships from Mistworld and Virimonde. And . . . a couple of surprises. On top of that, Jesamine and I, and Brett Random and Rose Constantine, have all been through the Madness Maze. We’re pretty surprising ourselves, these days, if not exactly in Owen’s class. And John Silence is with us! The legend himself! He’s the admiral of our fleet.”
    Douglas leaned forward eagerly. “You’ve been through the Maze! What was it like?”
    Lewis thought about that for a while. “I don’t know whether it’s a machine, or alive, or both. It opens you up.
    Makes you more than you were. It’s like being in another place, maybe the place we were before we were born. It feels like coming home, like family. Oh hell, Douglas, there just aren’t the words.”
    “Apparently not. Pour on the speed, Lewis. We need you and your fleet here soon, or you’ll be too late to do anything but scorch the whole damned planet from orbit. Don’t hesitate to do that, if there’s nothing else left. The uber-espers cannot be allowed to leave this world.”
    “I’m not sure even a scorching would kill those monsters,” said Lewis. “But you can trust me to do whatever’s necessary.”
    “Of course,” said Douglas. “I always could. How is she, Lewis?”
    “She’s fine,” said Lewis.
    They looked at each other for a long time, but there really wasn’t anything else they could say.

    Diana Vertue and the Psycho Sluts labored together to produce a psionic working that would shield and protect the Rookery while they were out in the city. Plugged directly into their unconscious minds, the working would hold the shield in place without their having to think about it all the time, for as long as one of them still lived. There were some in the Rookery who wouldn’t be going out to fight; those too young or too old, or still recovering from the last invasion, and they had to be kept safe from possession, as well as attacking thralls. The shield would keep out the uber-esper minds; they’d have to turn up in person to force a way in, and they weren’t that stupid.
    But what happens if the uber-espers do turn up in person? someone asked.
    Run like fun for the nearest horizon, Diana said crisply. It won’t do you any good, but it should take your mind off the horror to come.
    You’re such a comfort, Diana.
    I know. Aren’t you glad I’m here to tell you these things?

    The thrall