Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

will blow the rebel ships apart like so many rotten apples in the night.”
    Joseph nodded quickly. With anyone else, he would have dismissed such talk as mere bravado, but this was Finn. The master of schemes within schemes, and secrets within conspiracies. He might just mean it. Greatly daring, Joseph raised what was normally a forbidden subject.
    “And . . . Owen? Do you really believe the reports? That the blessed Owen himself has returned, and joined with his descendant against you?”
    “I ask you,” said Finn. “Does that even sound likely?
    Dead is dead. I should know; I’ve ordered the deaths of millions of people, and none of them have ever come back to complain. It’s just rebel propaganda. Wish I’d thought of it first . . .”
    “Only . . . there are rumors,” Joseph said carefully. “Entirely unconfirmed reports, of course, but still . . . there are those who say that the blessed Owen himself has taken control of the fleet over Haden . . .”
    “If Owen Deathstalker really was back,” said Finn, “we’d know. He wouldn’t need a fleet. He’d be right here, banging on my palace door and asking for me by name, and I would be hiding under my bed and wetting myself. No, when Owen bloody Deathstalker comes back, the skies will open and he will descend surrounded by angels. And I personally will believe that when I see it, and not before. Actually, I’d almost welcome his return, if he said he could stop the Terror. I could probably deal with Owen.”
    Finn leaned back in his chair, brooding quietly, lost in his own terrible thoughts, and Joseph took the opportunity to study his Emperor quietly. Finn still had the same classically handsome face, but it was deeply marked now with lines of strain and worry, and his eyes were just that little bit too bright. He looked . . . like a cornered animal—desperate, focused, and still very, very dangerous. For all his sudden rages and vicious temper, Finn could still be calm and rational when he had to be, and his grip on power had never been tighter. Being second-in-command to such a man was never going to be easy, but Joseph had faith in his own abilities to survive, if nothing else. All the terrible things he’d done, or ordered done, had all been done in Finn’s name. Joseph’s position might well be more than a little perilous, but sometimes all you can do is ride the damned tiger and cling on with both hands. And if nothing else, it was an exhilarating ride. . . . After all, Finn couldn’t live forever. No matter how much time he spent with the notorious Dr. Happy. No, eventually Finn would fall, and then a wise and prepared man might easily step in and take over. . . .
    “I want transmutation engines put into orbit around Logres,” Finn said abruptly. “No need to activate them— not just yet. No, their presence alone will serve to remind everyone who’s in charge here, and take their minds off all these ridiculous rumors about a returned Owen. The engines will also serve as a warning to Lewis and his damned fleet of what I’ll do if they dare challenge my position here.”
    Joseph looked at him uncertainly. “You’d really threaten to destroy Humanity’s homeworld?”
    Finn smiled easily. “Threaten? My dear naïve Joseph, I’ll wipe this whole planet clean of everything and everyone before I’ll give it up. Which brings me neatly to the other reason I invited you here. Talk to me about Usher Two. How are the preparations going?”
    Joseph swallowed hard and made himself concentrate on the unfortunate planet identified as being next in the Terror’s path. Usher II was an industrial world, specializing in the production of starship engines and all the tech that went with them. The entire planet was given over to these factories, serving the starship needs of the whole Empire. And since the Empire’s scientists still didn’t fully understand the nature of the tech they’d reverse-engineered from the alien starship that crashed on Unseeli so very long ago, most of the work still had to be done by hand. Human hands. It was far too delicate work to be trusted to computers. The AIs of Shub provided automatons for the really dangerous work, but even those operated under human control. All the factories on Usher II were currently running twenty-four hours a day, shift after shift, trying to build up a surplus to cover what would happen if and when the planet was destroyed.
    “Just when I need all the ships I can muster,” Finn