Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 10 из 54

To reject women is difficult enough, but to have women reject me was too much. I felt for the first time a dreadful need for strong drink. However, I took a deep breath inside me, and thought for a moment: should I drink of alcohol, I might lose my Overlordship. No more would I be able to lord over puny beings lost in their own selfish stupidities.

Then again, I thought, what if I spoke with Di

I went to the desk where first we saw Cordinia. It was empty. I explored associated chambers again. I felt as though Cordinia might indeed know where Di

Would I had not ascended those steps!

However, I did, and upon the topmost I heard Divort’s rolling tones, singing some silly song.

“Divort!” I cried, bursting into a room. “We must have words!”

Well, upon viewing that scene before me, I indeed needed words, because words were stolen from my throat.

There, lying upon a vast bed of amber pillows and ivory sheets lay naked none other than Di

“Zounds, Whiteviper! Have you insufficent courtesy to knock first?”

I stood there for a moment, aghast at what lay before me. For her part, Cordinia looked no less upset.

“Please, if you insist on staying, do close the door.”

I ignored her. “You blackguard! You bounder! What about our pledge?”

“Your pledge, dear boy! Never said I would have to swear off the fun bits of life! I say though, you are looking a bit piqued. Perhaps you should go back and have a nap.”

I reached down and grabbed him by the neck and started shaking him. “I am the Dark Overlord!” I shrieked. “No one goes unpunished who betrays me!”

“Trifle melodramatic, don’t you think, old boy?” choked out Divort.

I tossed him back into his bed of sin and stepped back, overwhelmed by vexation. Seized by an apoplexy, I could not speak. However, events proved I did not have to speak, for who should enter the room through the door I’d opened but Ygor. He carried this very sword I wave now.

“Cordinia? My love. Why?” He turned on Di

Thus saying, he struck at Divort, thusly-and with such force lopped off his head! Oh, the look upon that bouncing head! The body itself geysered blood messily onto the sheets and then tilted forward.

Both Ygor and Cordinia looked aghast upon this occurrence.

“This was no god!” said Cordinia “I wondered as much.”





She turned to me. “And you are no god either, but a partner in this trickery. Ygor-the sword!”

In truth, that was almost the end of me. Fortunately I finally found words, and Ygor remembered that for all my humanity, I’d been the best damned Dark Overlord they could have wanted. However, with my lack of godhood, I was now considered unfit. And so I was banished, with two mementos of my time there in OverEye.

You see the first now, the sword I have been waving, given to me only because it had been tainted with Di

And look now, Rotvole-here’s the other memento at my feet. I lift it up by its scraggly hair. A bodiless head. The head of Di

Oops! Dear Rotvole! Hah hah. The Evil Overlord strikes one more time for posterity! Di

I’m holding you!

ENSURING THE SUCCESSION by Jody Ly

The tropical island was a bright green and tan dot in the middle of an endless aqua sea under an equally endless vivid blue sky. Rainbow-colored birds emitted their raucous cries and were answered by the shrieks and honks of the tree-dwelling wildlife. All was still, but for a gentle rustling in the bushes caused by a body perceptible only to the watcher viewing the scene through a remote infrared camera.

The pristine vista was suddenly marred a tiny black, elongated dot that approached rapidly from the eastern horizon, accompanied by the loud humming of engines that quickly swallowed up the natural sounds. The rocket-copter steadily descended until the wash from its steering rotors stirred up a miniature maelstrom in the waters of the peaceful cove. It landed inside a twelve-foot circle marked out by basketball-sized stones above the high-tide line.

Two men climbed out of the chopper, one from either side. They wore dark glasses and black boiler suits with red cuffs and collars, with the insignia of a knife piercing a tilted ring on each shoulder. The first man, a tall, hefty individual with very dark skin, flipped up the latch on the hold behind the passenger compartment. The pair began to unload the cargo: large, gray-painted crates stamped with the same blood-colored dagger-and-ring logo.

The moment they turned their backs, a young man burst out of the undergrowth. His long, light brown hair was wild, and his bright blue eyes burned in a ta

The watcher, a thousand miles away in an underground bunker, the communications center for Alkirin Empires, Inc., turned from the first screen to a second and touched a red button beneath it. The image of a man’s craggy face with bright blue eyes and bushy black eyebrows in vivid contrast to his shock of white hair appeared.

“He did it. He’s on his way, sir.”

“Thank you,” the older man said. “Out.”

Vaslov Alkirin closed the co

He looked up at the map that adorned the far marble wall of his “office.” Others had referred to the thirty-meter-square chamber as a throne room. If his employees suspected that he could hear them at all times and in all places they never let on. Alkirin assumed that they did not. They believed he trusted them. He did, and didn’t. Only a fool trusts all of the time, he thought, surveying the boundaries of his empire. Or never.

His was not a country as the historians thought of one; rather, it consisted of large parts of several traditional nations that he had conquered through economic ploys and other means, plus other nonadjacent territories that belonged to him as outright purchases or gifts from the former owners. The continents in the sea of slate-blue marble were of silver. The lands that he controlled were covered in a layer of gold. Ashoki, for example, there on the eastern continent, was almost totally under his domination-except for two flipperlike provinces at the eastern edge of the oval country, and those two were dependent upon his holdings for vital resources. Soon they must fall under his command for mere survival’s sake. He was ready to accept their capitulation. Only the stupidly proud premier was holding back on giving consent. Alkirin was content to wait. That consent could not be long in coming, not with the drought that had dessicated the country for the last five years, and Alkirin’s water reservoirs the only nearby source, the only reasonably priced source.