Emperor Mollusk Versus the Sinister Brain (17 page)

“But you can’t ask me to surrender. It goes against everything I’ve been taught.”

“Don’t think of it as capitulation. Think of it as a strategic retreat.”

“I don’t retreat.”

Serket made a show of yawning. “I find myself growing bored. Perhaps watching you be ripped apart by my pets would be worthwhile after all.”

“You’ve said you’re going to trust me, Zala,” I said.

“You walked us into a trap. As a matter of fact, you keep walking us into traps.”

“Details.”

She leaned in and whispered. “This blade is tempered from the rarest, most sacred Venusian steel. It has been in my family-caste for nine generations. It is my soul. If I lose it, I shall have to seriously consider ritual suicide to atone for that sin. But not before I find you, wherever you might try to hide, and step on you, crushing your cartilaginous body beneath my heel. Very, very slowly.”

She put a finger on my dome and smiled with menace.

“Have I made myself clear?”

It was fortunate that Neptunon faces are so innately difficult to read because her threat, while not unexpected, was still a wee bit terrifying. The look in her eyes, the conviction in her voice, proved she meant every word. Getting killed by my own ally was something I had considered, but for the first time, it seemed a genuine possibility. It was another uncertain moment, and I smiled.

“You don’t believe me?” she asked.

“Quite the opposite,” I replied.

Zala held up her sword. “This blade was tempered from the rarest, most sacred—”

“Yes, I heard you,” said Serket. “Very inspiring. Very amusing.”

Zala placed the weapon at her feet. Guards rushed from another door and surrounded her. They aimed their spears at her but kept their distance.

“See that she is fed and cared for,” ordered the queen. “I trust she won’t do anything foolish.”

They led Zala away, although the word
led
implied they were in charge when all they were doing was following Zala from a safe distance.

Once they were out of the arena, Serket’s scorpion throne flew down and with a slight yellow glint in her glowing eyes, she asked, “Care to join me for lunch, Emperor?”

Serket arranged an elaborate banquet, where all manner of rare and exotic foods were presented to her in grand ceremony in her lavish dining room, decorated with golden statues, fine tapestries, and assorted works of expensive art. The room was made for a huge table, but instead an intimate round table sat in the center. Serket had a chair for herself and a tank of water for me. She’d taken my deactivated exoskeleton and stored it away.

Her minions stoked the heating unit under the tank while another sprinkled rose petals on the surface.

“I trust everything is to your pleasure,” said the queen. “Perhaps more salt?”

The salt-dispensing servant hurried forward at the suggestion.

“No, I’m comfortable.” I bobbed on the surface. The petals were more irritating than helpful, but I was a gracious guest. “Are the walls covered in platinum?”

“Yes, but it’s recently gone down in value so I’m thinking of having it replaced with gold.”

She nodded to a servant whose job it was to ring a bell, which he did with speed and efficiency. At the far end of the room, although all the ends of the room were far if you were technical about it, a procession of more servants appeared. Fine young Terran specimens danced in the lead while scattering flower petals. In the middle of the parade, an entire roasted pig was borne aloft on a platter by four muscular servants. A flute player and a juggler brought up the rear.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” asked Serket as the food made its way slowly in our direction. “I don’t believe I’ve ever entertained you before. Not even when we were equals.”

“An oversight on my part,” I said. “Warlording leaves precious little social time.”

“Yes, it is a terrible responsibility, being master of all. I sometimes wonder if the peasants know how lucky they have it.”

Twenty seconds later, the food finally made its way to our table. Serket nodded approvingly at it. She didn’t take a bite. Serket didn’t eat much. A date a day would’ve been more than enough to sustain her along with a small portion of undying water. It wasn’t anything I could digest either. The bell ringer rang, and the servants carried it away with equal spectacle. Seven servants fussed over their queen.

“Why did you join the Brain?” I asked.

“I already told you. He is a singular intellect.”

“And I don’t believe that. We’re alone.” Servants barely qualified as furniture to Serket. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason?”

She shrugged. “I fail to understand why you insist on talking about such things. A distasteful topic, don’t you agree?”

“It’s money, isn’t it?” I asked.

Serket resigned herself. “Yes…money. It turns out that my treasury is not as endless as my life. And the resources of my empire, such as it currently exists, are not up to the task of keeping me in the manner propriety demands.”

“I would imagine it’s hard to plan a retirement fund for eternity.”

“So it would appear, Emperor. I do try to keep my needs simple. I’ve reduced myself to a banquet a day and feasts only on Sunday. And the royal foundries’ production has dribbled to a mere thirty statues a day.”

She pointed to a lofty golden reproduction of Serket reclining on a throne. Dozens of these works of art decorated the palace, all of the queen, each of them unique.

“That one has been there for six days,” she said. “It bores me. Yet it remains. Can you see now the trials I must endure?”

“You’re a tower of strength,” I said.

“Thank you. But, of course, this isn’t all about me. My people need things too. You would think it would be enough to have the honor to serve me. But they insist on the luxury of feeding and clothing themselves. Shelter. Amusements, I presume, of some sort. And medical coverage. The dental plan alone was driving my kingdom to bankruptcy.”

She pointed to the tall man fanning her with a giant feather. “You? How much vacation do you get?”

“Three weeks, Your Gloriousness,” he replied.

Serket shook her head. “I never realized how much I took slaves for granted. My people live to serve me, of course. But that means also that they must live.”

“You could always allow them to export their talents,” I said. “Your goldsmiths and silk merchants are the finest on Terra.”

“Yes, because I must have the finest things. But these things are not meant for the commoners, the upstarts. And my people already have the most sacred trade of all. I couldn’t ask them to do anything else.” She snapped her fingers. The bell ringer rang his bell. The meal procession started again. This time, with a platter piled high with fruit and cheese. “See how happy they are?” she asked. “Aren’t you happy, my people?”

The servants all nodded and murmured their approval. I noticed that they all had very nice teeth.

“But a servant-based economy, as perfect and beautiful as it is, still needs capital from somewhere. These platinum walls don’t pay for themselves. I give the Brain a few drops of my precious water on occasion, and he supplements my coffers. And everything continues as it should. In a perfect world, such sacrifices would not be demanded of me, but this is not a perfect world.”

She held out her hand, and her team of helpers sprang into action. They moved her to her feet, and she stood without the slightest effort on her part. “The question now, Emperor, is what to do with you?”

“Changed your mind about feeding me to your pets?”

“Oh that was just a moment of whimsy.” Her throat sprayer coated her dried vocal cords before she coughed up a titter. “But why kill you when I can ransom you? Someone would surely pay handsomely for you. If not the Brain then the Saturnites, perhaps?” She paced around my tank theatrically. “Or the Venusians? Tell me. How did you end up with a Venusian bodyguard? I thought they despised you.”

“I’ve done my best to accumulate the right kind of enemies. The kind that don’t like each other nearly as much as they don’t like me.”

“A sensible design.”

“If it’s money you want, Serket,” I said, “I could always write you a check.”

“Don’t be crude,” she said. “I couldn’t take your money. I have too much respect for you. It’s tragic enough that I’m reduced to such low means. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Without decorum, where would we be?”

The fruit was inspected, approved, and returned to the kitchen. Serket cut the banquet short. “Such unpleasant talk seems to have ruined my appetite. If you’ll excuse me…”

She addressed an underling. “See that the Warlord is comfortable while I arrange the details of his transfer. Keep the Venusian well fed and unharmed. Just in case Venus finds her valuable enough to purchase. And if they don’t, I can always feed her to my beasts in the arena, which should be worth some amusement.”

Serket climbed on her throne, and the scorpion walked from the room.

“And see that the statue is changed. If I have to see it once more, I’ll go mad. Good day, Emperor.”

“Good day, Serket.”

She exited. The heavy doors sealed shut behind her.

“I don’t suppose I could write you a check?” I asked of the servants.

They laughed. Serket, for all her shallowness, was truly their goddess queen. It wasn’t unfeasible that one or two contemplated the offer, but for the most part, their loyalty to Serket was unswerving. It helped that she was smart enough to take care of them.

A trio of burly, tanned warriors escorted me down a long hallway, pushing the tank before them.

“He doesn’t seem very intimidating,” said one. “How did he conquer the world?”

“It’s not hard,” I replied. “All you have to do is think ahead, be prepared. And a certain amount of flexibility is helpful too.”

“Did you use an army?”

“No army,” I said. “I like to get my tentacles in the mix.”

They sneered. Doubtlessly, they found the idea of a leader getting involved in daily affairs to be as repugnant as their queen did.

We turned down another hall, went through a series of chambers until I was wheeled through a garden, a vast sea of lush green and exotic flowers. A crystal window transformed the harsh desert sunlight to gentle warmth.

“This is my last offer,” I said. “I won’t make it again. Name your price.”

“Or you’ll do what?” asked the tallest one. “Make your escape by dragging your boneless body across the ground?”

They chuckled.

Something rustled the leaves of a nearby bush.

My escorts drew their swords. Two of the guards pushed the third forward, toward the rustling plants. He stabbed the garden with his weapon then stepped a foot into the waist-high growth and poked about some more.

“There’s nothing here,” he said. “Must have been a—”

Something yanked him beneath the greenery. He barely had time to yelp before silenced.

“This is not what I wanted,” I said. “I accept that it’s necessary to harm others sometimes, but it’s annoying. Never mind the existential dilemma of whether or not I have the right because I’m comfortable with that when required.”

“Inform security,” said a guard. “We have a breach.”

His companion dashed off. He turned the corner, disappearing behind a topiary sphinx. The sound of his sword clattering to the ground echoed through the garden.

“You’re just doing your job,” I said to the last guard, “and I can respect that. But there are larger concerns at stake. It might help if you drop your weapon and step away from the tank. She might not view you as a threat then.”

Growling, he turned on me and stabbed into the tank. I darted to the side. He swept the blade around in the water, but even in the small tank, I was a slippery target. He tipped the tank over. It shattered, and I lay exposed on the wet stones.

“For my queen!” he shouted.

“Your queen wants me alive,” I said.

He stopped the fall of his sword.

Snarg rose up behind him, but I gave her the hold command via the sonic transmitter hidden in my right gill. Nobody ever checks the gills. They just see a fifteen-pound cephalopod outside of my exoskeleton and think I’m harmless.

The guard peered into Snarg’s milky white-and-yellow eyes.

“One command from me, and she’ll rip you apart,” I said. “It’s not as if I want her to, but I’ve never been able to train her to capture or incapacitate. She goes for the kill. It’s in her nature. Observe the way the spikes along her back are trembling? That signals unusually high levels of aggression. So at least your death should be quick.”

The guard dropped his sword and ran. Snarg instinctively wanted to pursue, but she was well trained. She slinked low to the ground. I petted her with a pair of tentacles, and she cooed.

“Good girl.”

A seat opened on her back. She gently wrapped her maxillae around me and dropped me into place. The cockpit dome snapped closed. I fed Snarg a directive, and she obediently skittered on her way.

I used the time to read a scan of the palace. A recon satellite gave me a layout and the location of all life-forms over one hundred pounds. One life-form was marked as a blue dot. That was my first stop.

Snarg was fast and capable of surprising stealth when demanded of her. My bionic chilopoda scuttled through the halls with nary a sound. The guards were easily avoided. The sentry golems, impressive as they might have been five thousand years ago, were ponderous and oblivious to anything short of a crashing ruckus. Only the scorpions proved any real threat of discovery, and Snarg’s superior enhanced senses gave her ample warning to stay ahead of them. We reached our destination without incident.

The dungeons were a vast catacomb of empty cells shrouded in torchlight. They were a relic of a time when Serket had been powerful enough to imprison any who offended her. But that was a long time ago, judging by the dust on the cell bars. We found an iron door with a pair of stationed guards. They made a brave show, but Snarg hissed and they bolted down a darkened hallway.

With two snips of her mandibles, she sheared the hinges and the door fell aside. Zala stepped out of the settling dust.

“What kept you?”

“Warlord business,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

We crept on our way. Zala proved nearly as sneaky as Snarg when she put her mind to it, though I could tell it displeased her. But she could be practical when required. We made our way to the fountain room. It lay deep within Serket’s palace. There weren’t any guards. Though when we entered the room, steel portcullises slammed shut over every possible exit. Serket was less concerned with someone finding the water than with them leaving with it.

The water dribbled down from the top of the golden fountain, along an elaborate path of grooves, to drip into the basin at the bottom. A few ounces of the pristine water were collected in the basin.

“That’s it?” asked Zala. “That’s what’s so important?”

“There used to be more.” The portcullises cranked open. Serket and her scorpion throne trundled from a shadowed hallway. “Thousands of years ago, the waters flowed like a river. Now, a few cups of water a day is really all we can expect.”

Reinforcements charged in behind the queen. Guards, golems, and scorpions ringed the chamber within moments.