The Emperor of Everything

“We have all the time in the world, now,” said Yubere lightly. He shucked off the armor and wiped his thin body with a scented towel, then dressed quickly.

“Wouldn’t you like to change too?” asked Yubere. “Aren’t you worried someone will wonder why men in armor are wandering around the stronghold?”

Albany laughed again. “He’s smarter than that, Yubere.” He put the last piece of the old Yubere down the recycler and began to wipe down the tub.

Ruiz nudged Yubere with the barrel of his splinter gun. “Let’s go find a comm and make sure the staff accepts you. Huxley, bring your gear. Albany, trail us a few feet, but no shooting unless there’s no other way. And, Yubere, no more funny stuff, or Publius’s investment will be wasted.”

“I’ll be careful,” said the puppet. “You be careful too.”

“A good thought,” said Ruiz. “Huxley, spike his bomb, in case we have to kill him.”

The new Yubere led the way to his comm center, moving with a convincing ease. Ruiz dared not aim a weapon at Yubere, for fear that one of Yubere’s people would see and react aggressively. He felt a distressing loss of control over the situation, but he needed to establish Yubere’s authority.

“When we get there, set up my exit first,” he said. “Give us an escort back to the tram.”

Yubere looked back curiously. “Don’t you want to just go out the top? We’re in control here, now?”

Ruiz looked at him wordlessly, and Yubere shrugged easily. “As you wish.”

Huxley threw Ruiz a worried glance. He felt impelled to explain, for some reason. “Our employer will be hoping we’ll make it that easy for him to get rid of us. He’ll be sure to have people topside — but maybe he doesn’t have another sub. And on the sub, we’ll have the Gench to bargain with.”

Huxley looked even more worried. “What made you take employment with such a dire creature, Ruiz?”

“Necessity.”

Albany snorted. “Don’t let him kid you, Huxley. He likes this stuff — the more borderline the better, as far as Ruiz Aw is concerned. He’s always had that sort of bug up his ass.”

Ruiz wanted to deny it, to claim that he had changed, but Albany would only laugh at him.

The comm center was occupied by a tech wearing a black tunic and two Dirm guards — though these were unpithed and wore no armor. As they moved into the room, Ruiz began to calculate angles and priorities. The Dirm to the right seemed somewhat more alert than the other guard, and the tech paid no attention at all.

Yubere walked to the main dataslate, laid a languid hand on the black glass. He tapped it absently, then turned to the nearest Dirm and said, “Kill them.”

The Dirm was only starting to bring down its graser when Ruiz’s burst chopped across its torso, smashing it back against the wall. Ruiz spun, squeezed off another burst, missing the other Dirm just as it fired; then Albany’s graser hissed and cut the guard in half.

Ruiz turned, saw that Huxley was down, his legs twitching feebly, a wisp of steam rising from the hole in his chest. As he took this in, he saw Albany aim at Yubere, a look of murderous rage suffusing his lumpy features.

“No!” barked Ruiz. “We won’t kill him yet.”

For an instant he thought Albany would do it anyway, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to kill Albany before Yubere was dead — his weapon was still pointed at the first Dirm, who wasn’t quite dead yet.

But Albany snarled, flicked the graser aside, and vaporized the head of the black-shirted tech, who had finally reacted and was rising from his seat.

Relief shuddered through Ruiz.

Yubere leaned back against the panel. “Well, it was worth a try,” he said brightly.

Ruiz struggled to maintain a clear mind, though he felt an almost-irresistible impulse to destroy the puppet.

“How can I make the situation clear to you?” he asked Yubere. “If you keep fucking with us, your master’s scheme will come to nothing. Didn’t you see what I did back at the tram? My pack is full of toroidal explosive.” Ruiz looked at the watch embedded in the forearm of his armor. “If we don’t get back in twenty-eight minutes, it’s going to bring down the dome and choke off the hole.”

Yubere snapped upright. His face underwent an instantaneous transformation, from tolerant amusement to taut cold rage. “You’ll have to pay a terrible price for your obstructions when Publius catches you,” he said through his teeth. His eyes gleamed with an almost-human craziness for a moment, but then he regained control. “Of course, dead is dead, so I suppose I shouldn’t blame you for struggling.”

“Good for you,” said Ruiz. “Now make the arrangements.”

Yubere took a deep breath, then spoke terse instructions into the comm. When he was finished, he looked up at Ruiz, completely composed again. “Satisfied?”

“We’ll see how it goes,” said Ruiz.

Albany knelt beside Huxley, who had become still. “Dead,” Albany reported glumly. Ruiz felt a small poignant sadness. Huxley had seemed a fairly decent person, for a freelance slayer, and now he was gone as if he had never existed, his trust proven foolish.