The common word was that Finlay had finally gone crazy, and died taking out his old enemy Gregor Shreck. No one knew what had fueled the open hatred between the two men, but there was no shortage of rumors, each one wilder than the last. The only thing they all agreed on was that no one at all missed Gregor Shreck. In fact, his death was greeted in all circles with the same concern as the sudden demise of a rabid dog. The social and political scene in the Parade of the Endless would be much quieter and safer for all concerned with two such dangerous players gone.
Evangeline looked down at the empty coffin, and didn’t cry. The vicar’s quiet words washed over her, bringing no comfort. She’d always known Finlay would die in combat, had already lived his death a hundred times when he was late back from a hundred impossible missions for the underground. She’d cried her tears then, and had none left now. It didn’t help that their last meeting had ended in a quarrel. With raised voices saying terrible, unforgivable things. Or that Finlay had gone to kill Gregor entirely because of what the Shreck had done to her. So that in a sense, she had sent him to his death. Part of her had died with Finlay, and sometimes she thought it was the best part. His was the only love she’d ever known, the only light in her short, dark life, and she didn’t know what she would do with her life now. All she felt was an almost overpowering urge to take off the coffin lid, climb inside, and let them inter her in the Campbell mausoleum. The best and brightest part of her life was over.
The vicar finally ran down, made a hurried sign of the cross over the empty box, closed his Bible with a snap, and stepped back. His part in the service was over. Robert Campbell entered the secret identifying codes into the Family crest on the mausoleum door, and it swung slowly open, revealing only darkness within. He looked to Evangeline, who laid her flowers tenderly on the coffin lid, and then stepped back. The preprogrammed anti grav sled under the coffin carried it slowly forward into the shadowy depths of the Campbell Family crypt, and then the door closed firmly behind it, and that was that. Service over, good-byes said, time to get on with your lives.
Whatever was left of them.
Adrienne wiped her eyes, blew her nose thoroughly, and patted Evangeline on the arm. “I always cry at funerals. And weddings. Even when I can’t stand the people involved. The ceremonies appeal to my dramatic side. I always meant to dance and cheer at Finlay’s funeral. Once even told him to his face I’d piss on his coffin. He just laughed. But now he’s gone ... and I miss him. No one else ever stood up to me the way he did. Looking back, most of my life seems to have been a reaction to what he did and didn’t do. Who am I going to find to fight with now? Who else is strong enough for me to sharpen my claws on? Oh, Evie; I never realized how important he was to me, until he wasn’t there anymore.”
“It was good of you to come,” said Evangeline. “He always admired your strength and your courage.”
“Don‘t, dear. You’ll start me off again. You know you’re welcome to come and stay with us for a while, if you want.”
“No, thank you. I’m not really in the mood for any company at the moment. Will you be all right?”
“Oh, of course, dear. I’m a survivor, everyone knows that. You call me if you need anything.”
Adrienne patted Evangeline on the arm one last time, gathered up her children, and led them away. Robert finished checking that the seals on the mausoleum were secure again, and came over to stand beside her. They stood awkwardly together, neither sure what to say. They’d never had anything in common except Finlay, and they’d never felt the same way about him. In the end, Robert said it had been a nice service, and Evangeline agreed. Shame about the weather. Yes. He asked if he could do anything for her, and she said no. He said he’d pay off the vicar and take care of all the necessary paperwork, and she congratulated him on his newly announced engagement to Constance Wolfe. They stood together awhile longer, but neither of them could think of anything else to say. Robert finally bowed to her and walked away, taking the vicar with him, and they all felt a certain relief.
Evangeline stood alone, outside the stone mausoleum. Ugly bloody place, but it was Family, and it was probably what Finlay would have wanted. It was still raining. Gray clouds for a gray day. Evangeline pulled the hood of her cloak a little forward, to keep the rain out of her face. Her hands felt like someone else’s. As though she were sleepwalking through what was left of her life. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have more than enough to keep her occupied. With Gregor dead, she’d been next in line to become head of Clan Shreck, but she’d had to decline that honor. It would have involved undergoing a genetest to prove her bloodline, and she couldn’t do that. It would have revealed she was only the clone of the original, murdered Evangeline, and that would have been a major scandal. It would also have made her a target for all kinds of fanatics, from all sides of the political spectrum. A clone, successfully masquerading as the original, undetected for years, was High Society’s worst nightmare, an unacceptable affront.
So she turned down the title, and the massive inheritance that went with it, on the grounds she wanted nothing from the despicable Gregor Shreck. People could understand that. Finlay, much to her surprise, had been practical enough to make out a will and keep most of his affairs in order. He left everything to her. There was some money. Enough to last several years if she was careful, and a few trunks of belongings that she would sort through when she was feeling stronger. Grace Shreck had agreed to become the new head of the Family. It had to be her or Toby, and he wasn’t interested. Evangeline approved of Grace, in a distant sort of way. She was honest and straightforward and she had the best interests of the Family at heart. Pity about her politics, but you couldn’t have everything.
Besides, these days, Evangeline had her hands full with the clone underground. Even before Finlay’s death she had become closely involved with clone politics, and many now looked to her for leadership and inspiration. Ever since the clone underground fought its way into mainstream politics, divisions and corruption had become major problems, and Evangeline had dedicated herself to dealing with the infighting while keeping it strictly out of the public eye. She had more than enough work to keep her busy for years. If only she could convince herself that any of it mattered ...
“Good-bye, Finlay,” she said quietly to the closed stone door of the mausoleum. “At peace at last, my love. Sleep well, until I come to join you.”
She was living in a simple apartment, in a modest area of the city. Not a very big place, but then, there was only her. She unlocked the front door with her palmprint, and strode wearily in. The door shut itself behind her, the lights turned themselves on, and the viewscreen on the side table informed her in its usual snotty voice that she had no messages waiting. Evangeline stood quietly in her hallway for a long moment, her cloak dripping steadily onto the ugly carpeting that had come with the furnishings. Her arms and legs felt heavy as lead, and it was an effort to hold her head up. She felt as if she could go to bed and sleep for a week, but she’d been sleeping far too much lately, so she wouldn’t have to think or feel. And there was still work waiting to be done for the clone underground meeting tomorrow. She couldn’t put it off any longer.
She took off her rain-soaked cloak, and hung it on the proper hook. Let it drip. It didn’t matter. And only then did she realize there was someone else in the apartment with her. He was standing very still in the shadows at the far end of the room beyond, where the lights couldn’t reach. Evangeline’s heart jumped in her chest, and she sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly wide awake. She didn’t waste time wondering which of her enemies had found her. There were too many. What mattered was that he had to be a professional, to have got past the security systems, and she didn’t have a weapon on her. She hadn’t thought she’d need them at a funeral. Stupid, stupid. The kind of enemies she’d made had no respect for occasion. She was still looking about her for something she could use as a weapon when the figure stepped suddenly forward into the light, and her legs suddenly went weak at the knees.
“Hello, Evie,” said Finlay Campbell, smiling. “You really should do something about your locks. Breaking in here was child’s play.”
Evangeline started toward him, and then stopped herself. “What are you?” she said hoarsely. “Some ghost come to haunt me? My guilt, for sending you to your death? Or maybe some esper, hiding behind a mental mask. A clone, perhaps, prepared beforehand in case of the original’s death. Or have I finally lost my mind, and now see only the things I want to see?”
“None of the above,” said Finlay. “It’s me, Evie. I made it out of Tower Shreck, a bit singed around the edges but basically intact. After what I’d done to Gregor, I thought it best to go to ground for a while. I couldn’t contact you. I didn’t know who might be listening in. And then I heard I was dead, and decided that might be best for everyone. Time for a new face and a new identity, I think. Make a new life for myself. With you. It was cruel of me to let you think I was dead, I know, but it was for the best, for both of us. Say you forgive me, Evie.”
“Of course I forgive you,” said Evangeline. “I always do, don’t I?”
And in a moment they were in each other’s arms, hugging the breath out of each other. Tears finally ran down Evangeline’s cheeks at her love returned, whole and real and in her arms again. They finally loosened their grip, and moved back a little to look into each other’s eyes. They had parted on a quarrel, and thought each other lost, but now they were back together again, and their love burned so fiercely in them they could scarcely breathe. Finlay felt the need to calm things down a little, and stepped back, still holding her hands in his. He glanced around at Evangeline’s new lodgings.
“Don’t think much of your new place, Evie. Whoever owns it must have really pissed off his interior decorator. And what happened to your two friends in jars; Penny De Carlo and Professor Wax?”
“They’re at the main hospital, waiting for their cloned bodies to stabilize so their heads can be grafted back ... What does that matter? How the hell did you get out of Tower Shreck alive? And what did happen between you and my father?”
“I killed him,” said Finlay, his voice calm and controlled. “I killed him for you, for all the awful things he did to you. I took my time, making sure he suffered as you suffered, and when I finally sent him to Hell the fires of the Pit must have seemed like a relief. Valentine Wolfe was there too. I shot him.”
“Hold everything. The Wolfe is dead?” said Evangeline.
“Unfortunately, probably not. Though how he survived a point-blank disrupter blast is a mystery to me. After I was finished with Gregor, I discovered Valentine’s body was no longer where it had fallen. Searching for him, I found the secret panel through which he’d escaped. It turned out to be a concealed passageway, no doubt prepared by Gregor for last-minute emergencies. I followed it to its end on a lower level, disguised myself in a dead guard’s armor, and joined the other guards as they evacuated the burning Tower. Then I just walked away. No one stopped me. And I’ve been hiding out here and there ever since.”
Evangeline let go of his hands and stepped back. “We held your funeral today. Placed an empty coffin with your name on it in your Family vault.”
“I know,” said Finlay. “I was watching. From a discreet distance. Not much of a turnout, was it? Good of Robert to come, though. We never could stand each other. And Addie and the kids ... they should be all right. Addie was doing very well in stocks and shares, last I heard.”
“So now you’re officially dead. What next? A new life; someone completely different from the old you?”
“Of course. It’s not for the first time, after all. Finlay Campbell had his day, but it’s over now. Time to move on. With centralized records still in chaos after the rebellion, adopting a new identity is easy these days. Lots of people are doing it, for all kinds of reasons. And whereas Finlay Campbell could never marry you, for all sorts of reasons, there’s nothing to keep you and whoever I become apart. We can be together at last.”
They hugged again, Evangeline burying her face in Finlay’s chest. “Won’t you miss your old life?” she said finally.
“Not really. Neither Finlay Campbell nor the Masked Gladiator were ever really me. Just parts of me. Things I did to pass the time. And anyway, people never did appreciate what Finlay Campbell did for them in the rebellion. Not like Julian, with his own holo show.”
“He’s dead, you know.”
“Yes, I know. Poor Julian, at rest at last. At least he took that Chojiro bitch with him.”
“It’s being presented as a lovers’ quarrel,” said Evangeline. “The official line is he lost his mind when he discovered he was dying, and wanted to take BB with him. The Chojiros went out of their way to say they didn’t blame Julian. He was still very popular, after all. The whole city came to a standstill for his funeral.”
“I know,” said Finlay. “I was there, standing in the crowd on the sidewalk as his funeral procession went by. Men and women were weeping openly. He was the people’s hero. Not a legend like Owen or Jack Random, or shadowy figures like you and me.”
“You shouldn’t have gone. It was dangerous for you to appear in public. Julian would have understood.”
“I was disguised. And I couldn’t let him go without saying good-bye. I never really had a friend, before. He worshipped me, though I kept telling him not to. He could never understand how much I admired him. He was the real thing; an actual hero, fighting the good fight just because he believed in it. I was pushed into it. Only joined the underground so I could be close to you. Still; at least he got a good send-off. I was amazed to see his holo show was still running, with an actor playing his part. Bigger audience share than ever. He tried once to set me up as a guest star, but apparently the networks considered me unsuitable material.” Finlay grinned. “How right they were. So; what are you doing with yourself, these days, Evie? From what I’ve heard, you seem to be practically running the clone underground.”