Something Rotten

18 Emperor Zhark Again

'Forget something?' I asked.

'Yes. What was that cake of your mother's?'

'It's called Battenberg.'

He got a pen and made a note on his cuff.

'Right. Well, that's it, then.'

'Good.'

'Right.'

'Is there something else?'

'Yes.'

'And—?'

'It's . . . it's . . .'

'What?'

Emperor Zhark bit his lip, looked around nervously and drew closer. Although I had had good reason for reprimanding him in the past — and had even suspended his Jurisfiction badge for 'gross incompetence' on two occasions — I actually liked him a great deal. Within the amnesty of his own books he was a sadistic monster who murdered millions with staggering ruthlessness, but out here he had his own fair share of worries, demons and peculiar habits — many of which seemed to have stemmed from the strict upbringing undertaken by his mother, the Empress Zharkeena.

'Well,' he said, unsure of quite how to put it, 'you know the sixth in the Emperor Zhark series is being written as we speak?'

'Zhark: End of Empire? Yes, I'd heard that. What's the problem?'

'I've just read the advanced plotline and it seems that I'm going to be vanquished by the Galactic Freedom Alliance.'

'I'm sorry, Emperor, I'm not sure I see your point — are you concerned about losing your empire?'

He moved closer.

'If the story calls for it, I guess not. But it's what happens to me at the end that I have a few problems with. I don't mind being cast adrift in space on the imperial yacht or left marooned on an empty planet, but my writer has planned . . . a public execution.'

He stared at me, shocked by the enormity of it all.

'If that's what he has planned—'

'Thursday, you don't understand. I'm going to be killed off — written out! I'm not sure I can take that kind of rejection.'

'Emperor,' I said, 'if a character has run its course, then it's run its course. What do you want me to do? Go and talk the author out of it?'

'Would you?' replied Zhark, opening his eyes wide. 'Would you really do that?'

'No. You can't have characters trying to tell their authors what to write in their books. Besides, within your books you are truly evil, and need to be punished.'

Zhark pulled himself up to his full height.

'I see,' he said at length. 'Well, I might decide to take drastic action if you don't at least attempt to persuade Mr Paige. And besides, I'm not really evil, I'm just written that way.'

'If I hear any more of this nonsense,' I replied, beginning to get annoyed, 'I will have you placed under book arrest and charged with incitement to mutiny for what you've just told me.'

'Oh, crumbs,' he said, suddenly deflated, 'you can can't you?'

'I can. I won't because I can't be bothered. But if I hear anything more about this I will take steps — do you understand?'

'Yes,' replied Zhark meekly, and without another word he vanished.