The Emperor of Everything

“Oh, certainly,” said Publius glumly. “Certainly.”

Back in the shadows, the young Gench stirred, attracting Publius’s attention. “How did you persuade it to take its collar off?” Publius asked, peering at the alien.

“It was easy,” Ruiz answered. “I told it stories about you.”

Publius adopted a sorrowful smile. “Now you’re being facetious, Ruiz. Treat me with dignity, at least.”

“All right. Go to the comm and tell your sub to withdraw. Please.”

Publius rose heavily and went to the comm board. He instructed his people; Ruiz could detect no obviously devious orders, which meant nothing. Publius turned back to Ruiz. “Now what?”

Ruiz was somewhat taken aback by the lack of bluster in Publius — it seemed an unnatural condition, as strange as if the sun should one morning rise in the west. “Now we go to fetch my slaves.”

The young Gench trundled forward. “Will you set me free? You said you would, if it was possible.”

Ruiz shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry. I may have further need of your services.” He looked speculatively at Publius.

Publius paled. “The creature is untrained; already you may have done irreparable damage to my Yubere. And…. “Publius’s hand went to his collar, and he became even paler. “And, I will destroy us both, if you attempt to alter my mind.”

Ruiz sighed. He had no realistic hope that the young Gench could alter Publius in any but a severely destructive manner — certainly a form of mission-imperative that would leave Publius fully in command of his wits would be far beyond the Gench’s undeveloped skills. He would have enjoyed tormenting Publius longer, but if the monster-maker continued to believe that Ruiz’s collar was still gimmicked, he might be moved to do something desperate and unexpected. “Let me set you at ease,” he said. “We discovered the monomol layer on the Gench’s collar, and removed it, before we were able to convince it that it would best serve its own interests by aiding us.”

Publius lifted his head, an abrupt predatory movement. “How can I know if any of this is true?”

“Give him this, Albany.” Ruiz took out the record cube he’d made during his conversation with the young Gench and tossed it to Albany.

Publius manipulated the cube expertly. The light from the tiny screen flickered on his face, which twisted and trembled with concentration.

Ruiz listened to the small sound of his own voice.

Eventually Publius seemed to be satisfied that Ruiz was telling the truth, and switched off the cube. He smiled, confident again. “I’m reassured, Ruiz.”

Ruiz detected a deep foundation of contempt beneath Publius’s words. “Good. All I want is to get off Sook. Play fair with me, and you’ll get your puppet back. Try to cheat me again, and I’m likely to thwart you, out of simple spite. Remember, neither of us are men who customarily tell everything they know, so restrain your ego, force yourself to practice caution.”

“Just as you say, Ruiz.” Publius returned to his chair, face smooth and pleasant.

The Gench edged into the brighter light. “Why cannot you let me go then? The monster-maker is subdued and cooperative.”

Publius laughed. “Because Ruiz Aw is no better than I am. His promises mean nothing more than mine; he is no more merciful, no more just. You are doomed to disappointment, young Gench, if you trust this man.”

“So far he has proven trustworthy,” it said. “And he did not promise me my freedom, only said that he would do what he could. It would have been easy for him to lie to me, as you would have done.”

The sounds of Publius’s sub cutting loose from the repair bubble came through the hull. Ruiz felt a sudden impulse, which he resisted for a while. But it grew stronger. Somehow, he felt that it would be an unforgivable affront to the sources of his luck, whatever they might be, to do exactly as Publius would surely have done in his place. And he might still need a great deal of luck.

Another consideration occurred to him. Here was the only Gench who could restore the false Yubere’s functionality. Should Publius somehow regain control of the young Gench, he would no longer need Ruiz and his code-phrase.

“All right,” he said to the Gench. “You may go. You probably shouldn’t attempt to use the tram — the transport device you’ll find at the end of the tunnel — it contains dangerous mechanisms. But Gencha are good climbers, right?”

“Correct,” it said in its whispery uninflected voice. It lifted a foot, to display a pattern of rubbery sucker pads.

“Then you must climb down the walls of the pit, avoiding the tram rail and the other tunnels, which may house unfriendly beings. Can you do this? It is very far down to the level where your race dwells.”

“I can do this,” it said. “I can rest, or even sleep on a vertical face — we are thus adapted.”

Ruiz nodded at Albany, who conducted the Gench to the lock and saw it on its way.