truth was he would never have come to trial because you meant people to discover both Roptat's and Father's bodies in the coolhouse."
"What a terrible accusation. I deny it all. You have such an evil imagination, boy?
"You were using me to betray my own father so you could kill him."
"For the longest time," said Gaballufix, "I assumed you knew that. I assumed you understood that we were simply not speaking directly about it because it was such an unpleasant subject. I thought you realized that the only way I could get you your inheritance early was by arranging your father's death."
Elemak's fury at having almost been a conspirator in father-killing overwhelmed all his self-control. He lunged toward Gaballufix-and found himself staring at the pulse in Gaballufix's hand.
"Yes, yes, I see that you have some idea of what a pulse can do to a man at close range. You killed a man with a weapon just like this, didn't you? In fact," said Gaballufix, "it might have been this weapon, mightn't it!"
Elemak looked at the pulse and recognized the wear marks on it, where it had been laid down on stone, where it had been nicked and marked, where the color had been faded by the sunlight as it rested at his hip during countless hours of travel in the desert. "I lent that pulse to Mebbekew the day I got home from my last caravan," he said stupidly.
"And Mebbekew lent it to me. I told him-speaking of fools-that I wanted it to surprise you with later, at a party, to honor you for drawing blood. I told him I was going to use your story to inspire my soldiers." Gaballufix laughed. And laughed.
"That's why you brought Meb in. To get my pulse." But why? Elemak imagined his father lying there, dead, and then someone discovering Elemak's pulse not far away, abandoned perhaps in his haste to flee. He imagined Gaballufix explaining to the city council, tears in his eyes. "This is where greed in the younger generation leads-my own half-brother, willing to murder his father in order to get his inheritance."
"You're right," said Elemak quietly. "I was a fool."
"You were and you are," said Gaballufix. "You were seen in the city today-all over the city. My men tracked you through several neighborhoods. There are many witnesses-and it will be so delicious to see Rasa forced to testify against her beloved Volemak's oldest boy. Because someone is going to die tonight, killed with this very pulse, which will be found near the body, and then everyone will know that it was Wetchik's son who was the assassin, probably at his father's orders. And the best part of it is, I can tell you this, and then I can let you know, I can put you out of the city alive and there's still nothing you can do about it. If you start telling people about my plot to kill somebody-whoever I decide it should be-they'll all assume that you were simply trying to cover up your own crime in advance. You are a fool, Elemak, just like your father. Even when you knew I wasn't afraid to kill to accomplish my purposes, you somehow thought that you and your family would be immune, that somehow I'd be more tender with you because the same weary old womb bore you and me during our nine months sucking life out of a placenta."
Elemak had never seen such fury, such hatred, such evil in a human face, had never imagined it was possible. Yet there he stood, looking at Gabya's glee in describing a crime he meant to commit. It frightened Elemak, but it also made him feel an insane kind of confidence. As if Gaballufix's having revealed his true inner smallness made Elemak realize how much larger he was himself, after all.
"Who's the fool, Gabya," said Elemak. "Who's the fool."
"I think there's no doubt of that now," said Gaballufix.
"True enough," said Elemak. "You'll make it impossible for Father and me to return to the city, for a while at least, but the death of Roptat won't open the road for you. Are you so stupid, really? Nobody will believe for a moment that Father would kill Roptat, or that I would either."
"I'll have the weapon!" said Gaballufix.
"The weapon, but no witness to the killing, just your story bruited about by your people. They aren't so stupid that they can't add one and one. Who stands to gain from Roptat's death and Father's exile?