I advanced on him. “I see that we’re having trouble communicating. I didn’t say I was here to attempt to conquer your planet. I said I have already conquered your planet. Past tense. English isn’t my first language, but I’m certain I have that part right.”
The colonel put his fists on his hips, clenched his jaw, and glared with every ounce of military ferocity at his disposal. “We’ll fight. We’ll give everything we’ve got and more.”
“Quiet.”
He saluted. “Yes, sir!” He lowered his hand and squinted at it.
I pointed to a soldier. “Can I see your weapon, please?”
He rushed forward, handed me the rifle. A puzzled expression crossed the soldier’s face. He wasn’t quite sure why he surrendered his rifle so easily, but it was only a momentary bewilderment.
“Thanks,” I said.
He smiled. “My pleasure, sir.”
I tossed the weapon aside. “This is a battle you’ve already lost. Mostly because you didn’t know you were fighting it. I had no intention of conquering you with ray guns and space armadas. And all the death rays and melting tanks and rockets and explosions would’ve been terrific fun. Who doesn’t like a good epic war now and then?”
I threw my arm around the colonel.
“But it’s all so…indulgent, isn’t it? I got that out of my system during my conquest of Venus. And, if I can be honest with you, that didn’t go all that well. It’s just so labor intensive and wasteful. So much to keep an eye on. After a while, it just becomes a chore.”
We walked toward my saucer.
“This time, I elected to go the more subtle course. Why bother battling and then oppressing the indigent population when there are simpler methods? I’m a scientist. I like to experiment. And I like to think I learn from my mistakes. And the mistakes of others. You Terrans are a stubborn bunch, despite your technological inferiority and primitive development. Did you know the Martians still scare their young with stories of Teddy Roosevelt? Or that there is a Viking colony on Ceres? Nobody knows how it even got there. All they know is that only Terrans would be foolish and obstinate enough to somehow live there.
“You’re a capable species. So much so that all the other civilizations in the system have decided it would be better to just leave you alone. A hands-off policy. More trouble than you’re worth.”
I chuckled.
“That’s what drew me to your planet. It seemed like a challenge. And it was. Believe me. It wasn’t easy to set all this up. To keep your scientists and leaders in the dark while I saturated your water with certain perception-altering agents. And the mind twister…first, I had to steal the basic technology from the Mercurials. Then I had to adapt it to Terran atmospheric conditions. I practically had to reinvent the science from scratch, but I didn’t know that would be necessary until after I’d already been put on Mercurial official enemy lists. I tried apologizing for the misunderstanding, but they didn’t want to hear it.”
The colonel said, “I don’t understand.”
“No, of course you don’t. You’re a soldier. You shoot things, and I’m sure you’re very good at your job. Unfortunately, my choice of invasion didn’t give you anything to shoot at. And I apologize for that. I considered even giving you a little bit of a war. Just something to make you feel as if you had a chance. But that would’ve been a farce, a silly little dance. In the end, we’d still end up here.”
“Are you saying you’ve brainwashed us?”
“In a manner of speaking. I actually used a multipronged approach. Very technical. You’d find the details uninteresting. Mind twisters secretly built into various innocuous buildings, seeding the global water supply with rapidly replicating microbes with aggression-suppressing qualities, some subliminal messaging here, a few world leaders replaced with robotic duplicates there. And some other things I’d rather not get into right now.”
“Our president’s a robot?”
“Yours? No. Though most of your legislative branch is. And the mayors of Scranton and Sheboygan. Don’t ask why I needed Scranton and Sheboygan. It’s complicated. Still, they’re better off than Portugal. I had to place the entire population in stasis. The whole country is just one big holographic projection at this point.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Have you recently touched any Portuguese national?” I asked. “Not in the last fifteen years, I can assure you.”
“We’d notice.”
“If you did, that’d be some substandard mental reprogramming. Let’s not even call it brainwashing. Let’s call it, oh I don’t know, something less aggressive. We’ll figure it out later.”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something great,” he replied with a smile.
“You’re too kind. But returning to the brainwashing thing, are you absolutely positive you’d know?”
“Yes. I’m positive.” But a moment later, he wasn’t so certain. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s nothing to trouble yourself about.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Colonel, could you have someone contact the U.N. and tell them I’ll be along shortly. I’d appreciate it if you had them prepare some kind of coronation ceremony. Nothing too fancy. I don’t want to make a fuss.”
He saluted. This time, there was no hesitation. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and have them throw up some banners. Something pithy.” I spread my hands in the air and gazed at an imaginary slogan. “‘ Welcome Emperor Mollusk, Warlord of Terra.’ Or is that too much?”
“No, it’s perfect.”
I tapped my dome. “Seems too much. Well, we can always hammer out the details later.” I turned the colonel back toward his troops, boarded the saucer, and waved to the Terran forces gathered around me. Smiling, they waved back. The colonel had the biggest grin of all.
4
The Atlantese sent a craft to pick up their soldiers. They offered to act as an escort (for a nominal surcharge), but I didn’t need one.
Zala’s guard, who had arrived too late to do any good against the Atlantese assault, insisted on coming along as backup. As long as I got to take my own saucer, I decided not to argue. Someone was out to kill me, and while I’d never been one to hide behind bodyguards, I didn’t see the harm.
My craft was mostly cargo bay and weapon systems. The cockpit didn’t even have a chair because, for all practical purposes, I was either sitting in an exoskeleton or lounging in a saltwater tank while flying. Despite this, Zala demanded she remain by my side. If she was willing to sit in a folding chair in the corner not occupied by Snarg’s coiled form and my tank, then it was fine by me.
“There would be more room if your pet wasn’t here. Is there any reason she can’t sit in the cargo bay?” she said.
“She’s a nervous flyer,” I said as I punched in coordinates.
Snarg gurgled. Her claws tore scratches into the metal floor.
Venusian warriors prided themselves on their fearlessness, but Zala backed away from the anxious ultrapede. “Wouldn’t it be wiser to restrain the creature?”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw how she reacts to being caged.”
Snarg arched her back and screeched unhappily.
I activated the navigation system. The saucer lifted off.
“I still don’t understand what you’re doing, Mollusk,” said Zala. “This is foolishness.”
“And what would you suggest I do?” I asked. “Surrender myself to Venusian protective custody and be hidden away while you attempt to get to the bottom of this?”
“It’s sensible.”
“I’ve never been the kind to let others solve my problems, Zala.”
“So instead you fly straight into your enemy’s open jaws. Perhaps the tales of your evil genius are overstated. Or does your ego make you assume that no one else can handle this problem?”
“Let’s reverse the situation. Hypothesizing that you were the one who was the target of assassination. Would you f
eel comfortable sitting under guard while someone else…handled the problem?”
“I would do as ordered.”
I chuckled. “You’re sidestepping the question.”
“As a soldier—”
Zala had spent enough time obsessing over me that she could read the unconvinced look on my face.
“Without the chain of command, there is only anarchy,” she said.
“That’s still not an answer.”
And then Zala did something I never expected. She thought about it. It wasn’t easy for her. Her gray brow furrowed and her blue lips pursed. She shifted in her seat several times. I had never thought Zala stupid, but imagination had never been her strongest attribute. But there must have been something buried under all that training, and it poked its head out to peer into the light for just a moment.
“Mollusk, if I were you, I would hope that I would be sensible enough to know when I was being foolish. But I know you, and I know that, aside from your need to be self-reliant and your complete lack of trust in the abilities of those around you, that you would rather die than be caged.”
I pushed a few buttons that didn’t need pushing. When I glanced behind me, she was sitting there, just smiling.
“It must be irritating,” she continued. “To have that great intellect at your disposal and yet you’re not sure what to do with it. I’d imagine it must be quite a burden finding challenges worthy of it.
“What I don’t understand, Mollusk, is, if you’re so smart, why aren’t you satisfied unlocking mysteries of the universe. Surely, there must be some grand equation or amazing scientific breakthrough you could be offering the universe right now. But instead you’re zipping around, fighting assassins. A bit unseemly for a genius of your caliber, if you ask me.”
I’d created a monster. Now that Zala was thinking, she was on a roll. But I saw a chance to interrupt, and I took it.
“This is not the work of the Celebrants of Oblivion,” I said.
“What makes you say that?”
I replied, “The Celebrants of Oblivion are a legendary cult of death-worshipping nihilists that haven’t even been proven to exist. If such a cult exists it surely doesn’t employ outside assistance from Atlantese mercenaries with questionable loyalty. It certainly doesn’t launch halfhearted assassination attempts that are more likely to fail than succeed.”
“You aren’t telling me you were never in any danger, are you?”
“No, there was danger. I could’ve even been killed. But it wasn’t certain, and the Celebrants wouldn’t settle for anything less than that. Otherwise, they’d never remain the shadowy presence that may, or may not, exist. Furthermore, when the Celebrants do kill, they do so in such a subtle and unnoticeable way that no one even knows they did it.
“They’re a legend. They don’t go around leaving calling cards or blowing up their targets. If they were going to kill me, I’d already be dead. Most probably.”
“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you admitting you’re not infallible and invincible.”
“Did I ever say otherwise? I’m flesh and blood. I make mistakes. Just because I’m smarter than you that doesn’t mean I’m perfect.”
She glared.
“And when I say you I don’t mean you specifically. I just meant the great majority of intelligent beings in the system.” I rubbed my dome. “Although I guess that technically does mean I’m saying I’m smarter than you, which I am.”
Blue and green freckles appeared on her neck and face. A sign of her annoyance.
I thought about apologizing, about pointing out that I was only speaking the obvious truth, but I was pretty sure that it would come out wrong no matter how I phrased it.
“But you’re making assumptions, Emperor. If no one has ever proven the Celebrants exist, then it stands to reason their methods and goals remain even more mysterious.”
“Yes…mysterious.”
Zala narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”
“I know the Celebrants exist,” I said. “And I know they believe that entropy is the only irresistible force in the universe. But rather than be doom and gloom about it, they seek to employ the art of entropy toward productive ends. Aside from that, I can’t say anything else about them.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I can’t say. And I do mean can’t. If I were to share too much information with you about the Celebrants, they would kill me.”
“I didn’t think you feared anyone, Emperor.”
“Now you know differently,” I replied. “So don’t bother asking. Just take me at my word that I know what I’m talking about.”
I turned the conversation back to more pressing concerns.
“Whoever hired these mercenaries had every reason to expect them to fail. Anyone who knows the workings of the Atlantese army knows that their loyalty is only as strong as their contractual obligations demand. Therefore, I’m going to assume that the attack itself was only meant to get my attention and that there are larger machinations at work here.”
“It’s an interesting theory,” she agreed, “but there’s an old Venusian adage. ‘The hungriest clug can eat frot-shaped stones all day.’”
“I’m familiar with the expression.”
“Then I trust I don’t have to explain it to you. Seeing as how you are so much smarter than I.”
It was entirely possible I was creating conspiracy when incompetence was usually the more reasonable explanation. I couldn’t deny the sense of invigoration that had been absent in the months since I’d foiled my clone’s plot. Boredom had always been my most persistent enemy. An enemy I could only forestall. Never defeat. And I did worry about the day when there were no more challenges, no more scientific breakthroughs, no more enemies, as unlikely as that day ever seemed. But a sufficiently long lull could be just as worrisome, leading me to chase after phantoms of my own imagination.
“You have a point,” I said, “but if I’m wrong about this then it won’t hurt to take a look. But if I’m correct—”
“If you’re correct then someone is manipulating you for sinister reasons you have yet to decipher, and you’re playing right into their hands.”
She waited for me to offer a rebuttal, but she wasn’t wrong.
“You agree with me then? That this is a foolish course of action in either case.”
Zala’s pointed ears perked up.
“You agree then?” she asked again.
She wanted acknowledgment. A less secure intellect might have trouble allowing her this victory, but I was confident enough in myself to admit when I was wrong.
Although I wasn’t wrong.
I remarked, “When all options are equally foolhardy, you might as well choose the more interesting one.”
Zala leaned forward. “I didn’t hear you say it.”
“Yes. I agree.”
She leaned forward some more, dangerously close to falling out of her chair.
I sighed. “Yes, I agree. With you.”
She nodded. It was a small triumph, but sometimes, the small triumphs were the sweetest.
“Now that you’ve admitted it, what’s to prevent me from plucking you from that mechanical suit and taking you into protective custody? For your own good, of course.”
“First, you’ve sworn an oath, and we both know you aren’t going to break that. Secondly, you’re just as curious as I am to see where this is going. And thirdly…”
I pointed to Snarg. The ultrapede’s antennae twitched, and she released a low hiss.
Zala sized up Snarg. In these cramped quarters with only a sharp Venusian sword and the small arm pistol on her hip, she didn’t stand much of a chance. But I hadn’t gotten this far by underestimating my enemies. She was a fine specimen of a warrior, and if anyone could do it, she could.
“Even if you managed to overcome all these obstacles and pry me from my exo, I should point out that Neptunons can exert enough pressure with our tentacles to bend steel. Or that our suckers
can inflict terribly painful wounds. Not to mention that trying to hold a wet invertebrate is a lot harder than you’d expect.”
She sat at the edge of her chair. She might be preparing to spring. Or she might be only thinking about it. If she got lucky, she could drive her scimitar through my head. She was fast enough. Snarg would kill Zala in kind. Or her gods would smite her. But either was a price she’d gladly pay.
But Zala didn’t want me dead. She wanted me alive and well. That had always been my advantage, and it didn’t change now.
She sat back, folded her arms, and smiled in a slight, unreadable way.
“Very well, Mollusk. We’ll do this your way. But don’t think you’ll escape justice by dying by your own arrogance.”
I tipped my hand to her. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Contrary to popular fact, Atlantis didn’t sink under the ocean. Not entirely. Ten square miles of land of what had been the tallest mountain on the lost continent remained above the surface. It was prime real estate, and only the powerful and privileged lived the dry life.
Every square inch of surface area was occupied by skyscrapers, but a single high-rise in the center reigned over them all. The setting sun gleamed off the polished glass and steel and the thousands upon thousands of priceless stones set in the walls. At night, the spotlights would switch on and the gems would form a glittering tower of opulence.
Zala scowled. “Such a ridiculous display of prosperity.”
I agreed. In principle. But when you had money and power and nothing else to do, studding a skyscraper with diamonds and emeralds could seem like a good idea at the time. I liked to think of myself as above such things, but in a moment of indulgence, I’d had my face carved in Mount Rushmore, so I wasn’t one to judge.
Emperor Mollusk Versus The Sinister Brain Page 4
