Read Online Hero! by Dave Duncan - Free Book Online Page A

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    The absence of people was eerie. Always he had known Forhil teeming with people, boys and girls laughing and sporting on the wide lawns, in the pool, among the trees—the lucky ones of the world: politicians, aristocrats, industrailists, royalty, famous entertainers…and spacers, of course. Now the only guests were a couple of unwanted gate-crashers: Death and Admiral Vaun. Was Death inspecting the wine cellar? Trying a few idle strokes on the putting green? He wasn’t visible at the moment, but Vaun sensed the implacable presence more strongly than he ever had in his life.
    Tham had had everything to live for, and all the resources of human science to help him do so. But Death was the most persistent of old friends—one who had refused to stay behind on Earth, or let mankind travel the spaceways alone. He could be delayed, but never denied.
    Forhil’s main house faced squarely to the rising sun, and Vaun followed his shadow over archaic flagstones toward it, puzzled by the lack of challenge—no robots, no trained carnivores, no energy beams smoking through the shrubbery. Tham had been bluffing, maybe? And if the defense was so weak that it must use guile against a lone man, then the perfect ambush was right here, at the front door.
    The entrance itself was set well back in a lofty breezeway, which had been built large enough to shelter a coach and four. Now the flat, yellow light of dawn poured in through the eastern arch, but the arch was narrower than the cobbled interior, and its sides were shadowed.
    Vaun decided he didn’t like being an ambushee, even when he had volunteered for the job. He faced straight ahead when he limped through, but the corner of his eye disliked something vague in the darkness to his left. He was allowed another four paces.
    “Stop right there!” a girl’s voice cried behind him.
    He stopped. It was nice to be right as usual, even if he were dead right this time.
    “Put your hands up. All the way.”
    He stretched his arms overhead, and turned slowly, squinting into the rising sun.
    She really was holding a gun on him. She was wearing a long, dark gown, and he still couldn’t see her clearly, except for a glint of light from the weapon. She could certainly see him.
    “I’m Admiral Vaun. I’m a friend of Commodore Tham.” The words sounded very stupid, somehow. “I am unarmed,” he added, as that was probably what she was looking for.
    “Turn around.”
    “I’d rather be shot on this side, please.”
    “ Turn around! ”
    He obeyed reluctantly.
    “Now drop your pants.”
    “What!”
    “You heard! Do it or I shoot .”
    He did not like that sudden squeak of hysteria. Slowly he lowered his hands and undipped his belt, wondering if this was some obscure execution ritual or merely a horrible joke. His shorts fell to his ankles.
    “Lift your shirt.”
    This was bizarre!
    “All right,” the girl said, and her tone had changed. “You’re really Vaun. I had to be sure.”
    “Zozo?” Vaun crouched to retrieve his pants, wondering why he had not recognized her voice. He also wondered how many people knew of the toothmarks on his buttocks. They were a hunting accident, tolerated and retained because they amused girls, and sometimes inspired them to be innovative. If the brethren were to send one of themselves to impersonate him, they would surely be efficient enough to research his scars first.
    Respectable again, he turned to meet the shadow coming to meet his shadow, wondering if she’d let him kiss her. She never normally did, unless Tham was present.
    His greeting died in a croak of horror. It was Zozo. It was not Zozo. Unsteady, sagged, and too smalll She stooped as if gripped by an awful sickness. Something unthinkable had shriveled her face. Fried it. He mouthed her name and barely resisted the urge to step back.
    A bitter smile twisted loose skin around her mouth as she registered his reaction. This cruel caricature of a beautiful girl…Someone had taken a wax