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stand before Owen. He held his nose up high, the better to look down it at Owen, and ignored Vaughn completely.
    “I bear Parliament’s word,” said Joy In The Lord Rottsteiner, in a harsh growly sort of voice. “I speak for Humanity.”
    “Really?” said Owen. “How nice for you. How are they all?”
    The Captain pressed on. “It is required that you return at once to Golgotha, Sir Deathstalker. Your services are needed most urgently. You are instructed to come with me, that I may convey you to an approaching starcruiser. How long will it take you to pack?”
    “Hold everything,” said Owen, entirely unmoved by the message or the messenger. “What’s so important that they’ve detailed a whole bloody starcruiser to come and pick me up? What’s been happening in the war while I’ve been cut off here?”
    “War always bad idea,” said Vaughn. “Much property damage, bad for insurance. Much better, kill all persons in authority, on both sides. Saves time, and helps prevent further wars. I know these things. Talk to God personally on subject many times.”
    “The war goes badly,” said the Captain, ignoring Vaughn with a thoroughness Owen could only admire. “You must come now.”
    “Tell me about the war,” said Owen.
    “Shub’s forces are winning on most fronts,” said the Captain, and for the first time Owen heard real gravity in his voice. “Humanity is barely holding its own against the insect ships. New Hadenman Nests are appearing all over the Empire. The Recreated have not yet left the Darkvoid, but signs of their coming have been manifesting in disturbing ways among the more sensitive elements of the esper community. And beyond all that, a new plague has appeared, leaping from planet to planet, striking down all who come into contact with it. We are living in the End Times, Deathstalker, when all will come to judgment. Evil and horror and destruction threaten Humanity on all sides. You must return. The Empire needs you.”
    “No, it doesn‘t,” said Owen. “These are all matters for the armed forces to deal with. I’ve no idea who or what the Recreated are, and for a plague you need doctors and research labs. Parliament just wants me back because it’ll look like they’re doing something. I don’t have the time to rush around making appearances as a reassuring symbol. I’m needed elsewhere.”
    “Parliament thinks otherwise,” said Captain Rottsteiner. “Do you defy the will of the people?”
    “I’ve been the hero often enough,” said Owen. “Let someone else do it. Hazel d‘Ark has been kidnapped by the Blood Runners. I have to rescue her. If you need a Maze survivor for a symbol, why not ask Jack Random and Ruby Journey?”
    “They are no longer considered ... reliable,” said Rottsteiner. “Reports have been coming in from the planet Loki, of terrible actions performed at their command. Mass executions without trial, and other atrocities. Unacceptable, barbaric behavior.”
    Owen looked at him for a long moment. “I don’t believe it,” he said finally. “Jack Random would never allow such things to happen. I never knew a more honorable man. No; this is just some trick, to get me to return to Golgotha with you. Well, I’m not going. Hazel needs me.”
    “The fate of all Humanity is more important than one woman! It is your duty to return with me.”
    “Don’t you dare use that word with me. I’ve given up more for duty than you could ever imagine! For once I don’t care what other people want or need. My only real duty is to the one I love.”
    Captain Rottsteiner stepped back a pace without taking his eyes off Owen, and then moved away from the airlock. “It was anticipated that you might prove difficult. I was therefore provided with an escort, to ensure that you do the right thing.”
    He snapped his fingers crisply, and the crimson-armored figure of a Grendel alien stepped out of the airlock. The rain pattered loudly on its broad heart-shaped head as it