The Emperor of Everything

“It was a somewhat obscure process, Guildmaster — I admit to puzzlement. The ones who held us all took me to another and less pleasant pen, where apparently I was purchased by some great person of the city, who sent his creature to bring me here. A strange creature, who walked like a man, but had the face and mannerisms of a house cat. Very odd. What will happen to me now? I have no inkling.” Flomel appeared to reflect on his mysterious circumstances, then gave a philosophical shrug of his shoulders. “Well, we’re far from old Pharaoh. Things are very different here, eh, Molnekh?” He gave the skinny mage a good-natured dig in the ribs with his elbow.

Molnekh’s answering smile was somewhat sickly, but Flomel appeared not to notice. Flomel continued his musings. “We must adapt, it seems. So you believe that Ruiz Aw has yet to sell you? Perhaps he won’t, perhaps he intends to return for you at some later date, and keep the promises he made to you — when he needed your help. Is it possible?” A slyness flickered in Flomel’s eyes, and Nisa decided he was testing them, to see if any remnant of loyalty to Ruiz remained in them.

Dolmaero shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not. It seems we misjudged him. It now appears he was nothing more than a convincing liar.” He glanced at Nisa; she saw that he was asking for her help in convincing Flomel.

Nisa managed a nod of agreement. Perhaps Flomel would take her silence for an incapacitating rage, and not see on whom it was focused.

Flomel laughed, a cruel sound of satisfaction. It suddenly occurred to Nisa that Flomel had a secret from which he took great pleasure, and she wondered what unpleasant consequences his secret would have for them.

“Tell me,” said Ruiz. “What difficulties do you foresee in reaching Yubere?”

They had returned from the cell with the false Alonzo Yubere walking behind them in calm obedience. Now the three of them sat in Publius’s rooms, again sipping the lilac cordial. The presence of the ringer made Ruiz acutely uncomfortable, though he told himself that it was no different than keeping company with a semiautonomous mech. But mechs didn’t drink sweet liquor, smacking their lips after each sip. Mechs didn’t watch him with clear guileless eyes, apparently eager to be helpful. Mechs didn’t breathe, no heart beat in their metal breasts, their brains were cold crystal, not warm flesh. Ruiz had never been so close to a person who had undergone the Gench processing — at least not to his knowledge — and the ringer’s presence seemed to disrupt the smooth flow of reality. What did that human-shaped inhuman creature feel; were his feelings so different from the things that everyone else felt? If not, what did that say about the validity, or even the verifiability, of Ruiz’s existence?

Publius nodded at the false Yubere. “Alonzo can tell you all about his circumstances — though he’s not quite sure of some important details. Most regrettably, these include the defenses of Yubere’s stronghold, which are almost sure to be more formidable than we expect.”

Ruiz shook himself, dragged himself back from his unproductive musings. “I’d like to discuss other important details, first. I don’t want to seem untrusting… but in fact I am. How do I know you’ll keep your bargain, if I succeed in replacing Yubere with your puppet?”

Publius shook his head in mock sorrow, though his mouth kept trembling toward a fey smile. “Ruiz, Ruiz. You surprise me. We’re such old and devoted comrades. How could you suspect me of duplicity?”

This seemed so eccentrically rhetorical a question that Ruiz could think of no appropriate reply.

Publius laughed. “All right. Well, let me see…. What assurances would comfort you?”

“At present, my imagination fails me,” said Ruiz dryly. “Let’s discuss your proposal in greater detail; perhaps something will come to me.”

“Fair enough,” said Publius in a good-humored voice. “This essentially is the plan: You will penetrate Yubere’s stronghold, taking along my Yubere. Once inside, you’ll locate and dispose of the real Yubere, see that my man is securely installed, and leave. What could be simpler, what could be cleaner?”

“Forgive my suspicious nature, but… what’s to keep you from disposing of the real Ruiz Aw, after his work is done?”

Publius raised his eyebrows. “Loyalty? Gratitude?”

“Insufficient,” said Ruiz. “However… back to your plan. How do you propose we get into the stronghold?”

“Ah! Here I’ve already done much of your work. My people have located a partially sealed-off ingress, only a few hundred meters below the waterline. Our best analysis — old charts, one of Yubere’s former prisoners, and, most indisputably, identifiable waste discharged through an adjacent out-pump — indicates that the ingress connects to the lowest levels of Yubere’s holdings — though we can’t be absolutely sure. You might have to do a bit of exploring, to find your way into his space — but I have confidence in you.”

Ruiz had less confidence. “Supposing I get inside. What then?”