The Pharoah Contract

When Ruiz got to his feet, he saw Nacker sitting in his prosthetic floater, under a dome of clear crystal. The minddiver looked like a freak preserved in a bell jar, some unlikely hybrid of sea slug and human. In fact, Nacker was just a man with no muscle tone, or hair, or healthy straight bone. Ruiz had learned that there was no medical necessity for Nacker’s condition. Nacker suffered from phobias that included almost all natural functions; therefore, the minddiver avoided as much as possible all such things as eating, excreting, sweating, breathing.

A net of cranial studs wreathed Nacker’s head. Through these he communicated with the universe and did his work.

The synthesized voice with which he greeted Ruiz was always different from visit to visit. Now it was high and clear, an elf’s voice. “Ruiz Aw. You arrive in an undignified manner.” Nacker’s vaguely formed face was motionless as he spoke, and his eyes were unfocused.

Ruiz took resentful inventory of his hurts. Blood dripped down his chest from the lacerations there, and his knee was swollen to the size of a small pumpkin. “If you lived in a more civilized district, I’d have arrived in better style. And why did you take so long to open up?” Ruiz touched the back of his neck, deactivating the personaskein.

“If I lived where the League could easily reach me, they’d burn me out, as you well know, Ruiz. They think I’m almost as good as the Gencha. We know better, eh? And as to my tardiness, why, I moved as quickly as I could in safety. I’d never deliberately expose you to danger. Or at least danger you couldn’t handle. Anyway, it was most entertaining, watching you at your work.” A sweet laugh rang out.

Nacker’s motives were impossible to fathom, Ruiz thought. Nacker was rumored to be a vastly wealthy being, so it wasn’t just the money Ruiz paid that impelled Nacker to help him. The minddiver seemed to like Ruiz, but what of that? Or perhaps the minddiver hated the Art League and enjoyed tweaking the League’s nose. In any case, it was fortunate that Nacker was willing to perform his indispensable services for Ruiz. Six times before, Ruiz had visited the minddiver, and six times the work had been satisfactory. Nacker was reputed to be trustworthy; Ruiz’s extensive investigations had uncovered no instance in which Nacker had betrayed a client to the League.

“And so,” Nacker continued, “you carry the death net? You wish the standard arrangement? Good. Kaum will conduct you to the infirmary, and after, we’ll begin.” Nacker’s throne floated silently out of the lock.

Chapter 2

Nacker’s infirmary was complete and comfortable. The patient had a wide choice of diversions: sensiedreams, holodrama, a small euphorium, surrogames of all varieties. Ruiz Aw was in no mood to be diverted, however, so he sat and glared at the inoffensive Kaum as the Dirm bondguard clamped a therapeutic coupling around the damaged knee. The coupling’s diagnostic slate immediately lit with red-tagged assessments.

Kaum’s moonstone eyes grew large, and the purple membranes of his ears stiffened with surprise, as he tapped at the slate. “Whooo, Ruiz, you was running on fumes, there.” The Dirm eased the coupling into a more comfortable position with exaggerated care.

“Uh-huh,” answered Ruiz in a poisonous monotone. Ruiz was still irritated with Nacker, and by extension all that belonged to Nacker. There was no reason but Nacker’s whim for the additional injuries Ruiz had suffered in Nacker’s dooryard.

Ruiz needed Nacker, unfortunately. Without Nacker, he would never have taken the job on Pharaoh. He sighed.

Kaum daubed Ruiz’s wounds with replicant gel, and covered them with stim pads. “That should do it, Ruiz.” The Dirm bondguard’s normally placid eyes showed hurt when he straightened up. “Give it two hours, or three. You’ll be feeling better.”

Ruiz felt a twinge of guilt; Kaum was a good-natured being. His reptiloid race — if not terribly quick-witted — was loyal and strong and uninclined to gratuitous violence, which was why they were always in demand as low-level muscle. Ruiz managed a wry smile. “Thanks, Kaum. I feel a little better already.” He patted the Dirm’s massive arm.

Kaum seemed happier for Ruiz’s feeble pleasantry, and he smiled in the manner of his kind, flaring the nostrils at the top of his skull. “Don’t mention it, Ruiz. Always happy to do for a cutie like you.” Kaum tweaked Ruiz’s cheek gently with fingers like scaly sausages and lumbered away.

Ruiz repressed a shudder. “Hey, Kaum,” he called. “When’s Nacker going to be ready?” He couldn’t afford an extended stay in Nacker’s hold; the League would soon notice his absence.

Kaum paused at the door. “As soon as you’re out of pain. He’s considerate, in his way.”

Ruiz lay back against the couch. “I guess so.”

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