Ray Aldridge - The Emperor of Everything

In a few minutes he fell into a philosophical mood, and began to examine the woman’s continued survival in those terms. At one time, both Remint and Ruiz Aw had espoused a philosophy of Perfect Violence. If he could act with Perfect Violence — he had once thought — then no one could obstruct or withstand him. But here was concrete evidence of the flaw in that philosophy. Not even violence was perfect-able… not even Remint, as perfect a slayer as Ruiz had ever met, was perfect in his violence. The woman still lived, still hitched her painful way toward the controller!

He began to hope again, faintly — a hope that glimmered away each time the woman paused to gather her waning strength. The pauses grew longer as she approached the controller.

When her outstretched hand was only a few centimeters from the controller, she collapsed and twitched with what Ruiz took to be terminal spasms. He ground his teeth and his eyes filled with hot tears. He thought of Nisa, but only for an instant; his mind was too full of despair to hold anything so sweet.

But the woman’s head came slowly up again, and she made one last lunge.

Her trembling finger touched the controller, the harness released Ruiz, and he collapsed backward. The sudden freedom shocked him, so that he lay there for a long moment, mind blank, unable to act.

Then he jumped up and tore at the harness straps, ripping them away joyfully. When he was completely free, he seized the closest weapon, a splinter gun that had belonged to one of the dead slayers — and only then turned to the woman who had released him.

She lay motionless, and only her eyes, which followed him as he crossed the room toward her, showed life.

He knelt beside her, examined her wounds. Her exertions had evidently worsened the damage; bright arterial blood pulsed from the exit burn under her shoulder blade. Her face was bluish; she tried to speak and failed.

“Yes,” he said, wanting to comfort her. “I’m going now. I’ll put him to death, if I can.”

Her eyes showed doubt, but it was a strangely unreproachful doubt. She almost smiled.

Her breathing ceased and her eyes stopped seeing.

He gathered up the rest of his weapons and the madcollar, then ran from the suite, lurching on uncertain legs.

It was only after he had left the joypalace and was on his way up to the lagoon that he realized he had failed to make sure of Corean. He paused, tempted to go back, but if she had recovered and called her people, the suite would still be a perfect trap.

He went on. His head buzzed with bitter thoughts about the imperfect quality of his own violence, and he cursed himself for a fool.

Ruiz was still busy criticizing his performance as he strode up the ramp toward the quay. A faint unpleasant sound penetrated his thoughts; he stopped abruptly and forced his attention back to the business at hand.

He listened. After a while it came to him; someone was screaming, far across the still waters of the lagoon. The sound was as regular as breathing, as if the screamer paused only long enough to fill his lungs for the next scream.

In all likelihood, the screamer had nothing to do with Ruiz Aw. SeaStack was full of torment. Even so, he thought, he had been gone a long time, several hours, and who knew what mischief Publius might have accomplished in that time?

He touched the madcollar, which he had tucked into his belt. If Publius had arranged a surprise for him, it might involve the collar, which Publius obviously found a demeaning constraint, a severe assault on his dignity. Had Publius given up hope of regaining control of his puppet Yubere? Possibly…. Or Publius might consider the situation too volatile, now that Remint was involved. Or he might know of some time limit to his scheme, now passed.

Did Ruiz still need Publius? The stronghold might have fallen into a state of disorganization with Yubere’s inaction, which might make it possible for him to sneak in through the same route as before. The possibility of doing without Publius had an undeniable appeal. Ruiz shook his head regretfully… he still needed Publius.

Another possibility suddenly occurred to Ruiz. Perhaps the screamer was Publius, perhaps Remint had already found him.

No. No, he was somehow certain that Publius was safely gone, that he had decided to cut his losses and retire from the field.

He took the collar and hefted it, then threw it high into the air, so that at the top of its arc, it cleared the lip of the ramp.

It detonated with a bright flash and a report that made his ears ring. A second later, the sound of another explosion reached him.

He noticed that the screaming had stopped.

Long before he reached the sub, Ruiz knew what Publius had done. Albany’s head was a pale splotch against the black metal of the conning tower; his blood made a darker pattern where it had spattered and run down.

When Ruiz drew alongside, he saw Albany’s body, floating in the currentless water of the lagoon, the bound limbs still twitching rhythmically in the grip of the nerveburner Publius had attached to him.

Ruiz went aboard. Publius had suspended Albany by his ponytail, which was secured to the conning tower rail with a metal clamp. Then he’d left him to scream out his life, until Ruiz had returned and detonated the collar around Albany’s neck.

Albany’s eyes were full of blood.

Ruiz went slowly up the ladder. He took out his knife and cut through Albany’s ponytail, so that the head fell, bounced once on the deck, and splashed into the lagoon.

Then he went below and set a course for Publius’s maze. He still had a use for Publius.

Corean returned to consciousness as her Moc carried her from the joypalace. She breathed in the welcome stink of its body, for the moment empty of all emotion but the pleasure of being alive. Her ribs ached; perhaps Remint had broken a couple. No matter; she would heal.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Marmo, floating along silently, holding a graser.

“Marmo…” she whispered in a voice that offended her by its weakness.

“Corean?” The old pirate swiveled toward her. “It’s almost daylight. I began to worry about you, so we followed.”

She smiled fondly at his battered half-mech face. “A good thing you did. Where is Ruiz Aw?”

Marmo didn’t answer for a moment. “Your enemy was missing, Corean. There was a disengaged control harness lying on the floor of the suite; it appeared to me that one of Remint’s slayers punched it off, just before she died.”

The pleasure of survival was suddenly tarnished. “Again?” She could not believe it.

“Never mind. It’s time to go to ground, Corean, until this blows over. SeaStack is shrieking; the lords are in a great panic. It is most unsafe. Fensh is waiting above with the airboat, to take us to a secure hiding place until we can leave the city.”

She tried to summon enough rage to resist his sensible urging, but between Remint’s machinelike ruthlessness and Ruiz Aw’s incomprehensible determination, she had somehow been frightened into passivity. She hoped it was a temporary frailty.

“Yes,” she agreed, and lay back in the Moc’s hard arms.

From the shadow of an adjoining stack, Ruiz analyzed the remaining safeguards at the entrance to Publius’s mooring, taking an ironic satisfaction in using the antisurveillance gear he and Albany had brought back from Yubere’s stronghold.

He had left the sub some distance away; he must now approach Publius with as much guile as he could summon. From one of the stack-side farmers he had purchased — for an absurd price — a small sampan loaded with crates of vegetables. He wore a stained brown jerkin, tattered shorts, and a large straw hat, all from the same source. He made his movements slow and deliberate, and concealed the readout slate of his sensors beneath a heap of pungent thick-leaved cabbages.