Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

to remain calm and unruffled; though admittedly it was hard to tell the difference between a calm and an excited robot, when they all had featureless blue steel faces. Still, for the moment half a dozen of them were surrounding Owen’s hovering body in an honor guard, and politely but firmly refusing to let anyone get too close. (This followed an understandable but regrettable incident where Brett Random had climbed onto Owen’s body and pounded on his chest with both hands, shrieking Wake up, you bastard! )
    The renowned con man, thief, and famed substance abuser was now striding up and down the corridor, all but bouncing off the steel walls, waving his fists in the air and loudly declaring that he’d always known no good would come of meddling with the Madness Maze. His face was flushed, his lean angular body all but crackled with frustrated energy, and his language was getting really distressing. An awful thought struck him, and he froze in midstep before suddenly whirling round to glare at Owen’s unresponsive floating body.
    “Wait a minute! Wait just one goddamned minute! Is everyone who’s gone through the Madness Maze going to turn into a Terror eventually? Are we all going to end up as galaxy-devouring monsters? Why is everyone looking at me like that? It’s a reasonable question.”
    “It’s a totally unnerving question, and quite probably the last thing I need to think about right now!” said Jesamine Flowers. “Aren’t things bad enough as they are? I can feel one of my heads coming on.” The blond diva’s famously beautiful face had gone all blotchy with shock and stress, and she’d clasped both her hands together in front of her to stop them from trembling. Lewis tried to put a comforting arm across her shoulders, and she shrugged him off almost angrily as she glared at the comatose Owen. “Damn you, Owen bloody Deathstalker! You can’t just drop a bombshell like that on us and then run off to hide inside yourself! Wake up! Lewis, make him wake up!”
    “Don’t look at me,” said Lewis. “I’m the idiot who thought coming here might actually help us with our problems. Instead, we seem to have acquired a whole bunch of new ones.” He leaned back against the metal wall, his muscular arms folded across his barrel chest, his famously ugly features creased in thoughtful lines. “If the Terror really is or was Hazel d’Ark . . . if that is what the Maze’s power finally turns you into . . . then I may have made a real error of judgement in bringing Owen back from the dead. We could end up with two Terrors on our hands, and I think I’d like to go and sit down in a corner and cry for a while, if that’s all right with everyone.”
    “Oh, no, you don’t,” Brett said immediately. “You got us into this mess, it’s up to you to get us out of it!”
    “Maybe . . . if we were to put Owen back into the Maze,” said Jesamine. “Maybe that would . . . freeze him as he is, or something.”
    “I don’t think that would work,” said Lewis.
    “It might! We could push or tug him, or . . .”
    “No, I meant I don’t think the Maze works that way. Once it’s finished with someone, it shoves them right out the nearest exit. Good-bye, off you go, don’t forget to write. Remember?”
    “No,” said Jesamine, looking away. “I don’t remember anything about being in the Maze. I don’t think it wanted me to. Only Deathstalkers get to know the secrets of the Maze.”
    “I could always kill Owen,” said Rose Constantine, and everyone turned to look at her. She looked calmly back at them, standing unnaturally still and poised as she always did, the tall cold killer in her bloodred leathers, with dark hair and darker eyes. Her crimson mouth moved in something like a smile as she contemplated murder. “When in doubt, cutting your enemy’s head off and using it as a football usually puts an end to most problems. I can do it, if you want. I’m not scared of Owen Deathstalker.”
    “Yes, but that’s because you’re a psychopath,” Brett said kindly. “Even in a coma, the Deathstalker is still undoubtedly the most dangerous thing you’ll ever meet.”
    “I know,” said Rose. “I like a challenge. Just the thought of killing the legendary Owen Deathstalker gets me all hot.” The red leathers creaked loudly as her bosom swelled.
    “I want to go home,” said Brett. “I don’t belong here, I really don’t.”
    “In any case,” the main Shub robot said politely, “we would