"Uh-uh!" He shook a finger at her. "That is a rule you must learn. Never correct the Emperor."
"Of course," she agreed, eyes slitted, head back.
'And we have a full night ahead of us!" He pointed at the floor.
Still smiling, warmth radiating from her eyes, she lay back, spreading her wealth of body on the soft fabrics. Tybalt set his glass down and lowered himself. Her fingers traced the lines of his back, nails making him quiver.
"Let me show you something," she whispered seductively to him. "Just lie there. Don't be afraid. After all, you control the collar." She stood, muscles rippling along her body.
Awed, Tybalt's heart skipped. "What a wonder you are, Arta Fera. "
A secret smile curled on her lips.
He triggered the collar as she leapt high and arrowed downward. The force of the impact smashed him into the unforgiving floor. His sternum and ribs
snapped loudly under her hard knee. Tybalt's mouth dropped open as he lay stunned.
She filled his vision as she bent. He stared up in pained disbelief. An odd croaking came from his throat. He tried to get his breath. Frantically, he triggered the collar again, seeing her fight it, seeing her still pulling air into her lungs as she ran long fingers around the collar.
"You see, Tybalt," she whispered, "I have freed myself." Panic caused him to scramble away from her, each movement a spear of agony in his chest. "Help," he mouthed, voice a hoarse croak.
"There is no help. I overheard the guard say you keep this room unmonitored so your wife can never have evidence to use against you."
Again and again he triggered the collar, tasting the brass of blood in his mouth; a gurgling rose in his throat.
She crushed her knee into his chest again, lancing white agony through his body. He gagged, trying to throw up. Her forearm-hard with muscle-cut his gag reflex short as she leaned down to look into his eyes.
"Enjoying it, Tybalt? Do you like the fear? The pain? Feeling degraded? Just like rape, don't you agree?" She tilted her head slightly before leaning forward, kissing him gently on the lips. "That last was for freeing me, Tybalt."
The Imperial Seventh stared, hypnotized by the blood on her lips-his blood-the same blood that dribbled down the side of his face. Unable to move, dizzy, pain-glazed, he saw her turn. Her kick jolted his entire body as she crushed his manhood against his pubis bone.
The white-hot grip of agony pulled him deeper and deeper into oblivion. Blood-smeared lips expanded into gleaming amber eyes-his last sight as he trembled and died.
Ily Takka smiled in satisfaction as Tybalt's physical signs weakened on the small hand-held monitor she carried. She flashed the jessant-de-lis at the guard and used the badge
to deactivate the security door to Tybalt's personal quarters. Ily stepped quietly into the room as Arta Fera bent over Tybalt's dark body, kissing him fervently. The Minister of Internal Security winced at the Seddi assassin's final kick, oddly shaken by the brutality of it.
Fera watched as Tybalt quivered and slowly relaxed. A fragment of rib had pushed though the side of his chest like a bloody lance. Fera turned then, seeing Ily for the first time. Eyes going to the blaster pointed in her direction.
"Very well done," Ily praised. "Couldn't have done it better myself."
Arta Fera tossed her head, flipping her full-bodied hair over her shoulder as she walked to the console and poured sherry into a glass. She rinsed her mouth and spit, wiping her lips clean on the expensive fabric hanging from the walls.
She checked herself in a reflecting glass and turned. "Now what?"
Ily leaned against the door, alert, pistol ready. "I hate to do it, but you'll have to be tried. The psych experts will confirm your deep trigger. The collar will be found to be faulty. Mareeah Rath's family will be so disgusted they'll want to cover up the whole thing."
Arta's amber eyes took her measure. "It won't be that easy, Ily. Is there a shower here?"
"In the corner. Press the golden knob. But leave the door open. I don't like surprises."
Arta walked over to press the knob and stepped in. Finding soap she began washing, heedless of the water splashing onto the fine fabrics.
"And why won't it?" Ily gave herself plenty of room as she crossed to the console, pouring herself a glass of sherry, never allowing the pistol to waver.
"Because the deep trigger is broken. That's why I kissed the bastard. I owe him for that. The rest I paid back in kind. "
Ily sipped the sherry. "Then I should probably kill you now. "
Arta nodded, scrubbing thoroughly. "That would eliminate any threat from me. On the other hand, a lot of things were broken along with the psych trigger."
"Such as?" Ily cocked her head, turning the glass in her fingers.
"Such as my loathing for Rega." Arta turned off the water, studying the surroundings. "How do you dry off in this thing?"
"Silver handle on the right," Ily offered, amused at the way the woman jumped
as the energy fields ran down her body. Water trickled away in streams. "So?"
Arta stepped out, walking in a wide detour around Tybalt to get her gossamer dress. She picked it up, looking at it with disgust. "Anything else to wear in here?"
"To fit a body like yours? I'm not sure. Touch the wall there by the holo."
Arta did and shuffled through the garments standing in the antigrav field. She chose a long wraparound and tightened it about her.
"You once mentioned that you might have a place for a woman of my training and ability." Arta crossed her arms over the too-tight fabric at her chest.
"I have a dead Emperor here." Ily tilted her head toward Tybalt's body.
Arta's eyes never left hers. "And, as Empress, you'll need a good assassin. You know I'm the best."
"You're a quick study, Arta Fera. Perhaps a dangerous one. "
"We share similar opinions of one another. Before I came along, you had your plans laid. Where does Fist fit into all this?"
"He destroys Sassa and the Companions. He becomes my Emperor and enforcer."
"A little young, isn't he?"
"All the better. I can train him the way I want. What's your price?"
"Freedom." Arta closed her eyes. "I want your protection, an open expense account, and a small fast ship with a female crew. Nothing more. I don't have any aspirations for your position. I was born and bred for assassination and excitement. "
Ily made a decision and stepped to the rear of the room where she ran quick fingers over a gold design. The wall opened. "I guess you're going to escape instead of being
tried for assassination. Up there. Follow the steps. You'll come out in my quarters."
"And the guards outside the door?" Arta asked as she entered the narrow way.
"Don't worry. You killed them during your escape. Stay in my room. Your picture will be all over Rega within an hour. I'll get you up to my ship later." Closing the portal behind the woman, Ily smiled and laughed. Then she pulled the jessant-de-lis from her pouch.
She walked over to look into Tybalt's wide dead eyes. "And you thought you could kill me with this? Oh, you stupid fool. I disconnected the detonator the day you insisted on brandishing that silly switch around. Now we'll see who can handle Ily Takka."
She stepped to the wall comm. Her second in command's face formed on the viewer. "Gysell, the Emperor has been murdered! You will place an arrest warrant out for the Seddi assassin, Arta Fera. Institute immediate social control, the military is to be placed on alert. I want crowd control and a news blackout. The Rath family is to be cordoned off — for their protection, you see. I am declaring a State of Emergency."
Gysell's eyes widened. "My God! Do we have the authority?"
She held up the jessant-de-lis, the jaguar's head gleaming in the light.