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I watch them on the far side of the room while the Duke’s servants open the bottle of La Dame Chanceuse as we sit across from one another at a long table. The Duke eyes me playfully. “I must admit, I did not expect to hear from you so soon. I feared I might have been a touch too enthusiastic about killing your friends.”

“What friends? They betrayed me. Fuck ’em.”

“Coldblooded,” the Duke says. “I do like reptiles. Almost as much as insects!” He nods toward the ants. “Still, I thought it would take at least several weeks for the ennui to set in. It seems you are like me after all.”

“How’s that?”

“Restless minds make restless men.”

“It’s a terrible fault of mine,” I say with a small smile for his benefit. “I grow bored quick.” The man isn’t bothering with coyness now that we’re in relative private. His eyes rove my lips as he slips an apricot into his mouth.

“Not too quick, I hope.”

I let him see me eyeing the servants in the room, playing up my discomfort. “Lamont, bring the food and let us alone,” he says. “I think we can pour our own wine tonight.” The servants bring several silver trays of food out and set them on the table before disappearing from the trophy room. He doesn’t mention the trophies, but he wants me to see them else we wouldn’t be dining amongst them. The two Obsidians did not follow the servants from the room. As long as they’re here, I won’t be able to get his datapad. They linger at the far door. I can’t very well assault him with those two monsters in the room. They’ll rip off my arms and beat me to death with them as easy as they would kill a cricket. I look at them pointedly.

“Pretend they’re statues,” he says. “Heads are full of stone already.”

“I’m not used to having witnesses,” I admit.

“Yet you left so many when you stole the children. I thought you would detonate a charge in the shuttle once you lef

t, as I recommended.”

“If you wanted murder, you should have sent Gorgo.”

“Do I detect squeamishness?”

“I prefer to think of it as precision.” I glance at the guards. “Can’t we be alone? I feel like they’re going to eat me.”

“I’m sorry. They are here for my protection. I never go anywhere without them. A flaw in my physical design. Weak bones.” The lithe man sighs as if he shoulders the greatest of burdens. “They never tell you this, but the peril of power is the people that come with it. Servants, bodyguards, aides. So many eyes and ears and little reptile thoughts in their brains. All those years I wondered what the Golds would do if they knew what went on inside our skulls. I don’t think they did, or they would have exterminated the lot of us. Now I sit where they sit and I know what my men think. It’s an advantage.”

“And what do they think?” I ask, sipping my wine to try and calm myself down. My heart’s slamming in my chest. It hasn’t stopped since I saw the Obsidian hand in the ant colony. I dry my palms on my pant legs.

“Oh, tedious things. That they could cave my skull in with a wine bottle or slit my throat as I sleep or throw me out a window. The little fantasies of murder are what keep servants sane. They tell themselves they allow me my power. And if ever I become too dreadful, they will do me in and maybe take over. But of course they never do. They procrastinate their vengeance because deep down, they are afraid not just of me, but like all people they fear their own fantasies. Easier to cherish them and keep them inside where they are in control. Possible.”

He forks a serving of charred octopus swimming in a dark vinegar sauce onto my plate. The sweet scent combined with my nausea almost makes me gag.

“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” I ask.

“Isn’t that the heart of desire? No one wants to fuck what they don’t fear, because then there’s no validation from it, no power derived.”

“Interesting opinion.”

“That is why Roses were created. The first Pinks were more beautiful than we are now, but there was nothing inside them. No content beneath the shine. They were toys. Once you used one, the lust evaporated. So the Golds made us into inscrutable enigmas to hold their attention, masters of art, sex, music, and emotion. Enigmas they could never fully understand, and that lack of understanding is the heart of fear.”

“So that was a yes.”

“That was a yes. You are afraid.”

I refill his glass, my hand trembling only slightly. He notices and thinks it’s from desire, not zoladone withdrawal and sack-shriveling fear. “I’m curious, Ephraim. Why did you come back so soon? You have all the money you could ever need.”

“Can people like you and me ever have all we need?” I ask.

He smiles. “You’re insatiable. I love it. The best thing about this new world…” He waves to his trophies. “There’s always more to take. But you didn’t answer my question.” His eyes go cold and he ignores the wine I poured for him. “Come now. Answer it.”

“I want more.” I pander, praying he can’t see through this two-bit bullshit. “More than contracts. More than filling a bank account. There’s no satisfaction to it. I want more out of this life than just money.”

“And what do you think we make here?”