The Emperor of Everything

She cupped her hands around her small breasts, and stroked her thumbs across the soap-slick points of her nipples. After the Moc had almost killed Ruiz, she had sent him to the rooms where she was keeping the Pharaohan woman. Those rooms were equipped with the standard surveillance cameras, of course, and she recalled the times she had watched the two of them rutting in the woman’s silk-covered bed.

Corean slid her hands down her belly, and her fingers moved in a languid rhythm. Ruiz Aw had been lovely to watch, and the woman too — Corean had looked forward so much to having them… until the woman had half killed a valuable property, until Ruiz Aw had stolen her boat and cargo. She had desired them both fiercely. She had put off the moment of consummation, so that the anticipation might sweeten her pleasure. She had waited just a bit too long.

But they’d been so pretty, Ruiz and the Pharaohan — the two bodies entwined, pleasing each other in all the ways a man and woman could.

Images of their artful couplings filled her memory, and her fingers moved more quickly.

For all her rage, she still wanted him. If by some miracle Remint had at that instant brought Ruiz into her bathroom, she would have made him satisfy her, over and over. She arched her back, so that her pelvis rose from the water. She threw her head back, and felt the first clenching spasms begin.

She thought: and then, when Ruiz Aw’s strength was all gone, she would make him die.

She came, shuddering with the culmination of that joyful fantasy.

Later, composed and cold with determination, Corean went in to instruct her slayer in his task.

“Listen, Remint,” she said. “There is a man called Ruiz Aw who is my enemy. He is a dangerous man with dangerous knowledge. We believe he is still here in SeaStack. It is your job to seek him out and render him helpless. You must adhere to these priorities: Ideally, you will bring him to me alive. Failing that, you must kill him and bring me his head or other indisputable evidence of his death. Do you understand?”

Remint nodded once, a sharp decisive gesture. The intensity of his attention was almost unnerving, Corean thought. But she continued. “There are other and somewhat less urgent elements to your task. Three slaves belonging to me were stolen by Ruiz Aw. I want them back, if recapturing them will not jeopardize your most important task: the capture or killing of Ruiz Aw.”

She waited for a fairly long time, before she realized that he wasn’t going to ask any questions unprompted.

“What do you need to know to begin your work?” she asked.

It was as if some powerful engine started spinning behind his stony eyes; they flared with purpose and, to her surprise, something approximating intelligence. “First,” he said. “Tell me everything you know or surmise about this man.”

Ruiz paced slowly back and forth across the thick carpet in the suite Publius had conducted him to. “I keep it for impressing merchant princes,” Publius had said with an expansive gesture that took in the various luxurious appointments. “Call if you need anything.” He had waited a moment for a response, then shrugged and left.

Ruiz had hardly noticed; he was too busy trying to think of some way to ensure his continued existence. How could he avoid doing Publius’s dirty work? He attempted to review his alternatives, but was depressed to discover that he could find none. Publius had him, and somehow he was certain that Publius wasn’t bluffing when he said he didn’t care anymore about the scrap of information Ruiz held against him. Escape from Publius seemed unlikely. After all, Publius had great respect for his violent skills; presumably he had taken adequate precautions against any attempt Ruiz might make to fly the coop.

For hours, Ruiz wrestled with the problem. Obviously Publius did not intend for him to long survive his mission — that much Ruiz could take for granted. But what possible leverage could he develop to use against Publius?

He considered the potential sources of leverage.

Honorable folk could be bound by promises; Publius would promise him everything and it would mean nothing.

He was in no position to employ fear; Publius would laugh at his threats, and rightly so.

Could he somehow use the dribble of information Publius had divulged? The idea had possibilities, but he was morosely certain that Publius would never let him near a data-stream terminal — the one in his suite had been hurriedly removed by two of the monster-maker’s technicians. And to whom could he confide his damaging story, who would keep it safe until and unless Ruiz failed to return? His only friends on Sook were locked up in a slave pen. It occurred to him that he should have spent a little more time on devising a safe place for them to hide. But at the time, he had been sure that Corean would be hot on his trail — and the matter had seemed urgent.