The Emperor of Everything

“Let’s go,” Ruiz said through his clenched teeth. He restored the pepperbox to his boot and walked on.

When they were within a hundred meters of the tunnel’s end, Ruiz stopped. “Go first,” he said. “Tell them I’ve got a bomb in my hat, just in case Publius told them to grab me if my attention wandered.”

Albany smiled. “Would he do a thing like that?” But he trotted away springily, apparently unwearied by the night’s exertions.

Ruiz found him waiting by the lock, alone, holding his graser alertly. “Any problems?” asked Ruiz.

“No. There were some very odd-looking persons here, but I told them to get back into their boat and they went quietly.”

Ruiz stepped through into the repair chamber, and saw where Publius’s people had cut through the hemispherical shell. Several monstrous faces stared at them through the hole, but said nothing.

Ruiz palmed the sub’s lockplate and put his eye to the ident cluster. After a long moment the lock slid aside.

When they were inside, Ruiz tongued the safety selector and took the detonator out of his mouth. His jaws ached, but he felt a sudden uplift of relief.

The Gench waited in the control room, huddled in the corner, its sensory tufts clenched tight. When it recognized Ruiz, it raised its lumpy body slightly and hooted. “You have survived. I am amazed.”

“Me too,” said Ruiz. “You were wise not to let Publius in.”

“I hope never to see him again,” said the Gench.

“I wish that could be,” said Ruiz regretfully. “But we must invite him aboard, and then hope to control him.”

The Gench sank back down and became still.

“I’m not too happy about that either,” said Albany. “Why don’t we just cut and run, while we have the chance?”

“Do you know a way to get out of SeaStack now?” asked Ruiz.

Albany looked unhappy. “No. The pirate princelings are in a terrible uproar; they’re not even letting each other off-planet, at the moment. They’ve shot down a half-dozen shuttles already.”

That was bad news, Ruiz thought. And very strange news; perhaps there was more than simple greed involved. Would the pirates go so far, cripple the commerce that had made them rich, just to catch a few rogue Gencha, no matter how valuable they might be? He filed the thought away for later consideration; Publius was a more pressing problem. “Publius claims he knows a way.”

“You believe him?”

Ruiz shrugged. “He’s a slippery one, I grant you. But he’s as likely as anyone to have the power to help us, and we’ve got some leverage with him, which we don’t have with anyone else who has any power at all.”

“I guess,” Albany said, but he didn’t look very enthusiastic.

Ruiz looked at him, and felt a sudden illogical affection. For all his flaws, Albany was presently the closest thing to a friend that he possessed; he had demonstrated loyalty and faith. Without Albany, Ruiz would have already failed. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

“Ahhh…. No, you’re not,” said Albany. But he smiled and thumped Ruiz on his good shoulder. “Listen, watching the monster at his picnic reminded me that we haven’t eaten since yesterday. Can’t fight on fumes, true? We have a few minutes before you have to bite the bullet again. Let’s see what’s here.”

Ruiz nodded.

They went back through the converted cargo bay where such a short time ago the rest of Ruiz’s assault team had waited. The small place seemed much larger, now that it was empty. Ruiz imagined that insubstantial ghosts still crowded the space, all looking at him with dead accusing eyes. He shuddered, then shrugged off the fancy — if he were to be haunted by the spirits of all those whose deaths he had caused, a stadium would hardly serve to contain them.

The private cabin all the way aft had a simple autochef, which Albany fiddled with until it produced sandwiches filled with spiced meat and chopped pickles. He passed one of these to Ruiz, and tinkered a bit more. The chef produced plastic mugs of steaming broth.

“Not too bad,” said Albany, settling back with his mug in one hand and his sandwich in the other. He seemed remarkably at ease. Ruiz attributed it partly to his ignorance of Publius, partly to a mind that was more firmly tuned to the moment than his own. He couldn’t help looking forward to the uncertainties to come — and backward at the mistakes of the past.

He thought of Nisa for the first time in hours. Was she well? Had she begun to wonder if he would ever return? Only two days had passed for her, though to him those days had seemed like weeks.

“So,” said Albany. “Who are these slaves you’re taking with you? Valuable stock?”

“Somewhat,” said Ruiz.

“Ah?” Albany seemed to be waiting for Ruiz to elaborate.

Ruiz felt no inclination to do so. A silence formed, and stretched into minutes, until Albany had finished his sandwich and slurped down the last of the broth.

“Tell me,” said Albany. “Why would you burden yourself with ‘somewhat’ valuable slaves, when — as we both know — you’re going to need all your luck just to get yourself off Sook? I sense a mystery here, Ruiz.”

Ruiz shrugged.