The Last Emperox (The Interdependency #3) - John Scalzi ,Wil Wheaton Page 0,2
incompetent who lied to his subjects about the imminent collapse of civilization,’ and so on.”
“Do you really think I’m incompetent?”
The count stared at Ghreni for a moment before proceeding further. “Why do you come to see me, Ghreni?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why do you come see me? I’m your prisoner and a political liability to you. Your capture and disappearance of me is one of the primary reasons you’re fighting this current civil war of yours. If you were smart … well, if you were smart you wouldn’t have done pretty much any of the things you’ve done. But in the context of me, now, if you were smart you would have kept your distance and let me rot in quiet. Instead you come here and visit me every few days.”
“You offered to help me, once,” Ghreni reminded him.
“That was before you decided the best course of action was to shove me down a hole,” Jamies countered. “Not to mention to continue to frame me for an assassination you performed, and to use that assassination to disenfranchise my chosen heir. How is that working out for you, by the way? You think Vrenna has been slowed down any by being stripped of her titles and lands?”
“I don’t understand your daughter.”
“How so?”
Ghreni motioned toward the Count Claremont. “You’re a scientist. You’re not … rebel material.”
“I wasn’t,” the count agreed, “until you made me one. And as for Vrenna, you never met her mother. If you had, you’d understand better. Not that it matters, since, as with me, you were the one who made her into a rebel, and a pretty effective one.”
“I don’t know that I would agree with that.”
“Yes, of course, you’re correct, an entirely ineffective rebel leader managed to infiltrate your security detail, plant at least one traitor, learn your secret travel itinerary and send a missile directly into your aircar and no others. Sorry, I was confused about that.” The count reached again toward his book.
“I need someone to talk to,” Ghreni said, suddenly.
Jamies looked over toward the (acting) duke. “I beg your pardon?”
“You asked why I keep visiting you,” Ghreni said. “I need someone to talk to.”
“You have an entire governmental apparatus to talk to,” Jamies reminded him.
“Which has traitors in it.”
“Let me remind you that I’m not exactly on your side.”
“No, but”—Ghreni motioned to the room—“you’re not going anywhere.”
The count paused again, as if to consider how best to respond to the reminder that he was a prisoner, then picked up his book. “Maybe you should just get a therapist.”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
“I’d get a second opinion on that if I were you.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“At the very least, don’t you have friends, Ghreni? Even fake ones?”
Ghreni opened his mouth to retort to the fake friends crack and then paused.
Jamies, book open, studied Ghreni carefully. “Come now, my usurping duke,” he said. “I used to see you surrounded by an entourage, back in the days when you were the duke’s advisor. A whole tranche of schmoozers and flatterers. You could schmooze and flatter with the best of them. Now that you’re the duke you should be able to pick and choose your hangers-on.”
“I have friends,” Ghreni asserted.
“Indeed.” The count raised his book. “Then maybe you should bother them.”
“You don’t want anything from me.”
That got a raised eyebrow. “Actually, I want you to resign your dukedom and let me go home.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I understand that,” Jamies said, dryly. “I’m just pointing out to you that your assessment is inaccurate. But, yes. In terms of your dukedom, there’s nothing I want from you.”
Ghreni spread open his hands. “Which means I can talk to you.”
“I still vote for the therapist.”
“You could still help me,” Ghreni said. “Help me prepare for what comes next with the Flow.”
“You mean, despite the fact that I am your prisoner and you are fighting a civil war against my daughter, who you would kill if the opportunity presented itself.”
“She just tried to kill me.”
“The fact you are trying to reduce a civil war to ‘she started it’ does not fill me with confidence,” Jamies said. “And besides that, it’s too late. The moment I could have helped you was months ago, when I made you the offer despite the fact you had murdered the duke and framed me for it. Dealing with that would not have been comfortable, but it could have been navigated. This civil war is something that neither you nor I can navigate anymore.