Free Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda by Simon R. Green Page A

your fun where you can get it. I think the Trall’Chai was the worst, though I tried it with every seasoning I could think of. You just can’t help some people.”
    The meal ground interminably on, through many courses, including a pudding so sweet and sticky that Joseph couldn’t force down more than a few mouthfuls before giving up, but eventually the meal came to an end. Finn summoned servants to clear the table, and then got up and escorted Joseph into the next room, which was just as austere, if not actually spartan. Finn poured two large glasses of brandy, and saw Joseph settled into one of the oversized chairs in front of the fireplace before sitting down himself. Joseph sipped his brandy cautiously and waited for the other shoe to drop.
    “At ease, Joseph,” Finn said finally. “You’re not here to be reprimanded or punished. I’m actually very pleased with you. My people tell me you’re doing an excellent job as my First Minister. Firm discipline, clear policy with no exceptions, and lots of purges to keep everyone on their toes. It must keep you very busy, though, being in charge of the Church Militant, Pure Humanity, and the Transmutation Board. Are you sure I’m not working you too hard? I could always have some of your responsibilities passed on to someone else . . .”
    “No, thank you, Your Majesty,” Joseph said quickly. Power and influence were the only ways to keep safe these days, and Joseph had no intention of giving up any of it. There’s no one more dangerous than an ambitious second-in-command. “I am happy to serve Your Majesty to the full extent of my abilities.”
    “Are you? That’s really very sweet of you, Joseph. And do call me Finn. No need for all that formality among friends in private. Of course, if you ever slip up in public I’ll have your nuts off in a trice. Standards have to be maintained. Where was I? Oh, yes . . . you’re here, Joseph, because I need someone to talk to. Someone on my level, that I can be frank and open with, without reducing them to hysterics, or having to have them executed afterwards. After all, what’s the point in achieving things, or triumphing over your enemies, if you haven’t got anyone to boast about it to? Gloating’s very little fun on your own.
    “I used to have Brett Random and Rose Constantine, and later Tel Markham; but they all ran away and left me on my own. Never did understand why. And after all I did for them, the ungrateful little shits . . . They betrayed my trust. You wouldn’t do that, would you, Joseph? No, you’re not the sort to frighten easily. I feel I could talk to you, tell you things I couldn’t tell anyone else. You should know better than most, there’s no fun in doing awful things unless you have someone around who can appreciate the subtleties.”
    And Joseph Wallace, who, as head of the Transmutation Board had wiped out whole species of aliens for being too intelligent, nodded and allowed that he did indeed understand better than most. Still . . .
    “You are the Emperor,” Joseph said cautiously. “Surely there must be any number of people you work with who could—”
    “Zealots and fanatics are no fun at all,” Finn said firmly. “Far too polite, and no sense of humor. Now, you sit and listen while I talk, and we’ll get along famously. Try and chime in with the odd appreciative comment from time to time.”
    So Finn talked and Joseph listened, and rather to his surprise Joseph was genuinely fascinated. There was a lot more going on inside Finn’s head than most people ever realized.
    Finn had made himself Emperor because it amused him. Partly because now he was greater than King Douglas had ever been, and partly to rub everyone’s nose in the fact that he was in charge now, and had absolutely no intention of sharing power with anyone. And yet, now that he was Emperor, Finn was just a bit at a loss as to where to go next. He lived in austere, almost spartan surroundings, with only the most basic