magined for a moment, what he would feel if he appeared on a newspaper page
in such a saucy way.
"My conclusion is that I should lose some weight. It's a shame of a
picture, don't you think so?"
X X X
Bemish was leaving the mansion when a dark skinned servant reported to
him, bowing.
"The mistress is expecting you in the Blooming Plums Gazebo."
Bemish walked into the garden. The woman that had withdrawn from the
room before the dinner was now walking on a white garden path, overcast with
sideways moon shadows, and the lace decorating her dress sleeves resembled
moon rays coiling around her wrists.
Bemish bowed shyly and said.
"Believe me, I am very sorry that you didn't dine with us."
"Men and women do not eat together," Idari objected. "Are you the
Earthman that has been buying Assalah via DJ securities?"
"You are informed surprisingly well," Bemish muttered abashedly,
realizing that the Idari's husband is unlikely to even know that DJ
securities exist.
"Well, if women eat separately from men," Idari smiled, "it doesn't
really mean that they don't know anything. Are you married?"
"I am divorced."
"Did your wife love you?"
"She loved my bank account."
Idari sat down on a bench in a fluid catlike motion and Bemish heard a
hydrangea bush rustle against her skirt. Idari gestured Bemish to sit next
to her.
"I appreciate everything you have done for my husband," Idari said.
"I haven't done anything for him," the Earthman objected, "while he has
done a lot for me."
"You are the first man from the stars that he made friends with. It's
so strange that this man belongs to Ronald Travis' circle."
And Bemish was again quite surprised by Idari's awareness.
"I thought he had Earthmen friends."
"Yes. People who throw bombs at the supermarkets and use drugs to
liberate themselves from the corrupting influence of the civilization."
Idari and Bemish sat very close to each other. The night had descended
already but the two moons shone powerfully like beacons and Bemish could
clearly see Idari's profile, a small head with the black braid wrapped
around the head and the hairpins glistening in the moonlight.
"My husband exerts a great influence on the Emperor," Idari continued,
"and you may exert a great influence on my husband. It would have been very
bad for my country, if Kissur had befriended, instead of you, the people he
had met two years ago on Earth."
Idari paused.
"What do you know of our history?"
Bemish flushed. His ignorance of everything related to Weian history
was practically absolute, it could only compare to his ignorance of Earth
history. If anything was of interest to him on this planet - it was the
budget deficit size or the central bank interest rate. The central bank
interest rate did not depend on history in any way.
"Is the name Arfarra familiar to you?"
Bemish faltered.
"He was the first minister..."
"He was the first minister twice. Once, before Earthmen. Second time,
after them. Once the Earthmen came to Weia, the Emperor appointed a man
named Nan as the first minister. Then, Nan was removed - with my husband's
help."
Bemish vaguely remembered the five-year-old scandal - since the scandal
took place on Earth, not on Weia. There was something about Kissur - the
Weian ex-first minister, hanging out on Earth. Or was it on Lann? Amidst
terrorists and drug abusers. A stolen car, drugs, a beaten policeman, the
arrest of a terrorist activity suspect, a scandal diligently stirred up by
somebody, and finally Kissur's statement that Nan was the main culprit in
the tragedy that happened after the hijacking of a military plane. This
statement played a part in the Earthman-minister resignation.
"Afterwards, a different premier and a different program of state
investment policy were instated. The taxes were high and the budget expenses
were huge. The only money left in the country was that in the state treasury
and in the banks with the highest officials as the stock holders. The
workers were not allowed to leave the companies they worked for and to
testify against their owners."
Idari grinned and added.
Shavash was, at that time, one of the most active supporters of the
state investments. He needed to clean his reputation up after his friendship
with Nan and he invented all the programs for the government, where money
just sank in the sand. Three tons of concrete were claimed where one ton of
concrete was used; five kilos of paint were reported where one kilo was
applied.
Concerning the laws that enslaved the workers, he wrote a memorandum
where he claimed, that the Weian way is different from the Galactic one,
since an owner doesn't exploit the workers as a hired cattle, but rather
takes fatherly life-long care of them. It should have ended with the
destruction of the country but it ended with a rebellion and the
government's resignation.
Then, Arfarra came in. He cut the state expenses down and rescinded the
employment laws. Meanwhile, my husband crushed the rebellions in the places
where the governors missed the old times.
Bemish almost didn't hear, what the woman was saying. The crossed light
bands from the two full breasted moons gleamed on the marble garden path and
silver bracelets like many-winged snakes entwined Idari's wrists, as thin as
ivy twigs.
"A bit later, Arfarra said to a man, named Van Leyven, that used to
invest a lot of money in Weia, "we are selling state constructions now, why
don't you buy Assalah?" - "I won't do that," Van Leyven said, "it's the most
disgusting of all Shavash's feeding troughs." - "Weian economics improved a
lot this year," Arfarra said, "but you used this year to freeze the
constructions, sell them to the state or get rid of the stocks via dummy
fronts. Why?" - Van Leyven thought for a bit and said. "I invested a lot of
money in Weia and incurred big losses. I staked it all and I lost. You let
the time slip by. The people lost their trust to the officials, the Earthmen
and the sovereign. You are old and sick, what will happen when you die?" -
"I've been dying for six years," Arfarra got angry, "will you buy Assalah or
not?" - "No." They parted then. Arfarra died the next day.
Bemish was now listening and holding his breath.
"My husband idolized Arfarra," Idari continued, "and it was extremely
difficult for me to persuade him not to take vengeance on Van Leyven outside
of Weia. He still had to leave Weia, since his death here would have been
certain, and he lost much more money than he had expected. I am saying this,
Mr. Bemish, so that you realized that profit and death walk closer to each
other on Weia, than they do on Earth. Especially if you buy Assalah and make
friends with Kissur."
Bemish returned to the hotel late at night. Dogs yapped far away in the
city, stars hung above the white temple and, in the next block, a sad
woman's voice was singing something accompanied by a flute.
Falling asleep, Bemish thought about the woman, with the black eyes and
the black braid wrapped around her head, and about the two people who had
lost their heads over that woman - Kissur and Shavash. He also thought about
Clyde Van Leyven; he knew a lot about this man, unlike the other actors of
the Idari's story. Since, Van Leyven was a billionaire and the financial
community watched his each step holding its breath. Unlike Idari, Bemish
knew that Van Leyven almost died half a year after the Weian events - the
brakes on his air cushioned seven-meter-long limo failed, the car broke
through the rail and dived in water from a twenty-meter-high bridge, the
driver drowned, the bodyguard broke his head on the front panel, and Van
Leyven miraculously survived. This story didn't hit the newspapers thanks to
Van Leyven's connections. And now Bemish was not sure that Kissur had held
on to his promise not to retaliate outside of Weia.
The Red Dog tavern was located in a less than prominent neighborhood.
Its entrance was gated by two snake gods entwining around two brass door
poles, brass lamps with sparkles swung under the planked ceiling, and the
wooden walls were decorated by a couple dozen signatures and crosses. The
signatures have been collected for the last twenty years and they belonged
to the most famous literate thieves of the current sovereign's rule. The
crosses belonged to the most famous illiterate thieves.
At least two people from this respectable circle sat in a corner
discussing their
crooked dealings and, upon Kissur's arrival, approached to greet him.
Kissur introduced them to Bemish. The first thief, a glum
golden-toothed middle aged handsome man extracted a business card out of his
pocket, where he was presented as some company's director, and assured
Bemish, that he would be happy to be of any service if Bemish ever needed
him.
Hence, both thieves, accompanied by their bodyguards, left in an
unknown direction. Kissur glumly mentioned that they were going to a meeting
with their competitors and, if they were apprehended, there would be one
less shoot out in the city.
"Apprehend them, then," Bemish suggested.
"Why? Let the spiders devour themselves."
Kissur and Bemish had just started on a suckling piglet, rising like a
soft white mountain from a savory sauce sea, when Kissur suddenly raised his
head - Kaminsky stood in front of him. The businessman had a somewhat
down-hearted look to him. He had a huge blue spot under his eye - like a
shaman painting himself before a divination- and his hand hung in a silk
sling.
"I came to say good-bye," Kaminsky said. "I am flying to Earth
tomorrow."
Kissur was looking at him silently.
Kaminski pushed a chair away and sat down.
"I was wrong," he said. "Out of all the Weian officials you are indeed
the only honest one. You didn't want a penny from me. Having returned, I'll
certainly tell all my friends, that there are two types of the Weian
officials - the officials who demand bribes from the Earthmen and use them
as pawns in their feuds and the one honest official who bathed me in a
swimming pool."
"You will also," Kissur said, "tell them that you are an innocent
victim of the dark machinations; that you wanted to buy land for twelve
millions but the officials persuaded you to buy it for a million and a half
with a knife at your throat."
"No," Kaminsky said.
I will not tell them what exactly has happened. But I wouldn't mind
telling you about it, ex-minister, to improve your economics education. I
arrive here and go to Khanida, "I would like to build a business center."
Khanida is politeness personified. He pours lavish praise all over me. He
has the utmost desire for future collaboration. He praises my unselfishness
and is so overwhelmed with it that he offers me the land not for twelve
million but for a million and a half. Reluctant to engage in doubtful
dealings, I refuse. Well! Twelve million it will be. Mr. Khanida is so
happy. He says that a base man cares about profit and an honorable man cares
about fairness. He sees both of us belonging to the honorable people ranks.
I start the construction and invest the money. Meanwhile, the land is still
not bought yet - they assure me - it's a pure formality. On a nice day, I
visit Mr. Khanida and he starts the million and a half talk again. I refuse
politely. Khanida shrugs his shoulders and becomes as cold as a frog. He
says that he is breaking the contract off. I lose it - come on, I've already
sunk big money in! For an answer, Khanida utters through clenched teeth
something about exploitators sucking on Weia's blood and liver. Then, I go
to Shavash, your dearest friend. He offers me... it's enough to say, Mr.
Kissur, that he offers me something similar but he wants twice more than
Khanida. I made a mistake here. I should've turned away and left. Screw the
expenses. But I felt bad about the lost money. I've already inhaled enough
of your stink. I saw that Khanida would do what he promised and I signed the
contract. My mistake was that I forgot about Shavash, who offered me the
same deal as Khanida. Shavash was irritated that Khanida didn't share the
loot with him. Naturally, the local customs code didn't allow him to rat on
me directly. And so, having chosen a right moment, he tells you the story
and you raise the buzz! And this buzz reverberates in Shavash's soul with
coins jingling pleasantly. And the Empire is left empty-handed again, and
Shavash is left in the full confidence that Khanida will give him half the
money next time, just to avoid the problems!
Kissur got the checkbook out of his pocket and asked.
"How much money did you give to Khanida?"
Kaminsky was astounded, and then, laughed.
"I don't need your money."
"Money is the only thing the Earthmen need. That's why the Earthmen's
destiny is suffering, since money not spent for friends and alms brings
trouble."
"Where do you get money, Kissur, eh? You don't trade, you don't take
bribes and you don't rob passers-by! Where does the money come from? The
Emperor just gives it to you, doesn't he? And it doesn't cost anything to
the Emperor - when the treasury runs out of money, he invents another tax.
You call a man who sells and buys a criminal, and a man who collects the
taxes for you, the cornerstone of the state! That's why you won't like it if
a parliament forms and only parliament can authorize the taxes collected in
this country."
"Do you want to swim again?"
Kaminsky took heed.
"No," he said bitterly, "I don't want to swim. You almost killed me
that time. Since you don't have any arguments other than swimming, I would
rather be silent. But I will advise all my friends on Earth and, by the way,
Terence Bemish, sitting next to you, never, under no circumstances, do any
business on Weia since nothing will come out of it besides debasement and
shame. Believe me, Mr. Kissur - I could still patch everything together. But
I am grateful to you that I lost this money; I recalled again that I have
honor and self-respect."
He turned and walked away.
Kissur looked at Bemish.
"Well," Kissur asked, "is he correct?"
"Yes," Bemish said.
"Will you leave?"
"No," Bemish shook his head "I won't leave. You, however, should."
"Where?"
"Anywhere."
"Too late," Kissur replied. "I applied to the Federation Military
Academy. They didn't accept me. I am not interested in any other place in
your Galaxy, full of worms like a year-old fig."
X X X
The next day, Bemish flew to the villa, where several members of his
team and two LSV employees arrived. They had a simple task - to develop the
contract's financial shell by the week's end.
The bankers worked day and night. In two days, a helicopter arrived,
carrying a cheerful and slightly drunk Kissur and a much more sober Shavash.
Kissur barged in the central hall where the bankers, having pulled an
all-nighter, were finishing the IPO prospectus.
"You are not asleep, too!" Kissur heartened. "Where did you ditch the
girls? Let's drink!"
And he banged a jar of expensive Inissa wine on the table next to the
printer, spitting out the financial projections. At this point, generally
phlegmatic Welsey, scared to hell by Kissur, demonstrated a true greatness
of the spirit.
"Kissur," he said, "I will drink with you only after you help me to
calculate the cash flow in the company if the embargo on the Gera trade is
enacted and the cargo flow decreases correspondingly."
Kissur was astounded. He was not able to calculate cash flows.
"C-cads!" he muttered drunkenly.
Bemish found him a girl in the village and returned to the office,
where Shavash was waiting for him. Shavash sat in the armchair next to a
window looking thoughtfully at the neglected garden.
"What's your price," Shavash asked.
"Eight fifty five for a share."
"Thirty four million total," Shavash noted. "What are your investment
obligations?"
"Sixty million. I am going to land the first ships in six months after
the construction starts."
"You don't have any experience building spaceports, do you?"
"I have experience involving professionals and setting up financial
contracts, Mr. Shavash. This company should start bringing in cash flow in
less than a year, otherwise it will go bankrupt."
"How are you going to finance the deal?"
"The banks provide ten million out of ninety four. This is a ten
percent loan, with the company property as collateral. Eighty four million
are financed through the high interest bonds issued by my company ADO and
placed by LSV on the intergalactic exchange market. Approximately four
million belong to me and my friends."
"So, you risk only four million of your money out of ninety four."
"I risk the other people's money and my own head." Shavash reclined in
the armchair.
"As far as I know, it's a standard way for buying the companies with
existing cash flow used to pay interest. While you are buying a hole that
you need to fill with piles of money."
"We will try to construct the contract's financial shell in such a way
that we won't pay anything this year. We are planning to issue some
zero-coupon bonds with a two year maturity time. It means," Bemish
explained, "that the bonds will be sold at a discount to their face value
and the difference between the selling bond price and the maturity price,
equal to the face value, will make a profit."
"Don't take me for Kissur, Terence," Shavash pointed out. "I know what
zero-coupon bonds are."
Bemish quacked in exasperation.
"We are also considering securities with the alternative coupon
payments - they can be paid with money or with the new bonds."
Shavash paused. Trumpet sounds suddenly entered the room through the
window - the shepherd was herding the cows back to the village.
"That's a risky affair, Mr. Bemish. I am not sure if your bond price
will get to 70% of its face value on the market. What will remain then, from
your so-called eight and a half dinars per share?"
Bemish swallowed. He knew that the official was all too correct.
"The securities will cost dinar for a dinar," Bemish said. "The IPO
prospectus has a condition, that the bond interest will be re-evaluated a
year after the issue so that the securities cost will be equal to their face
value."
Shavash paused.
"It's quite an unusual decision," he said finally.
"This decision will allow me to lower the cost of financing the deal by
three percent."
"What if, to the contrary, your securities price falls?"
"The price will only rise," Bemish said.
Terence Bemish was so sure of himself that he was not going to frighten
the investors by a predetermined ceiling of the adjustable rate. As it came
out afterwards, he had signed the death verdict to Assalah project.
Then, however, Shavash seemed to be positively impressed with Bemish's
words.
"There are Weian banks," he said, "that would be glad to take part in
this affair and buy your bonds on a big scale. However, the affair is quite
risky and you need to sweeten it up a bit. I suppose that the large
investors could have an opportunity to buy, besides the bonds, the stock
warrants for three years - ten shares for a dinar. You could reserve 20% of
the shares for this purpose."
Bemish raised his eyebrows slightly. Shavash's idea meant that the
warrant's buyer will be able to acquire the Assalah stocks at their current
price in three years. Bemish hoped that, in three years, the Assalah shares
will cost hundred times more.
"So, who will buy the warrants?" Bemish asked.
"The Weian banks which will acquire the bonds."
"Can you be more precise?"
"It will be I and my friends."
X X X
In an hour, Welsey and Shavash descended to the central hall. Bemish
stayed on the upper floor to take a shower and change his shirt - he had
broken a sweat. When he walked down, Kissur was sitting in the hall and
instructing two young Trevis' aides how to train a highwayman's horse, so
that it could find the road in the dark and didn't neigh in an ambush. The
bankers listened attentively. Their young and honest faces expressed a
sincere interest. The bankers were used to express a sincere interest to any
client. One could suppose that setting up ambushes among rocky gorges was
their primary occupation.
"If the path is rocky, you should wrap the hoofs with felt," Kissur
said.
He turned around to the sound of steps.
"Why are you so glum, Terence," he said in Weian, "and why is it all so
dirty?"
Kissur trailed his fingers in disgust down an expensive pink wood table
- a banker dropped pizza on the table, hurriedly eating it.
"You don't have a woman - that's the problem," Kissur noted. "Idari
says the same."
The headman, having noiselessly approached on the side, bowed and
quickly popped in.
"If the lord needs a maid, I have a good candidate - a small official's
daughter, a seventeen-year-old maiden, gentle as jasmine petals. Her father
was caught stealing and he is currently under an investigation. To collect
the money to butter the judges up and secure his daughter's future, he could
sell her for fifty thousand."
Bemish glanced quickly towards his colleagues - the conversation was in
Weian and they clearly didn't understand it.
"I'll think about it," Bemish said.
"There is nothing to think about," Kissur stated. "I'll check the girl
out and, if she is as good as this scoundrel claims, she is yours."
A printer rattled at the table nearby and the last financial
projections crawled out of it.
X X X
When the next night, deathly tired, Bemish walked up to his bedroom at
two o'clock, he found that he was not the only one there. In the bed, coiled
like a doughnut, a cute girl of about seventeen years age was sleeping
tranquilly. Bemish pulled the blanket off her and found her to be quite
naked - Adani probably brought her in the evening and he was afraid of
bothering the master, busy with calculations - the girl waited and waited
some more and fell asleep.
Once Bemish raised the blanket, the girl got cold - she woke up and
stared at Bemish with her eyes, large and round like the moon. She had small
budding breasts with tiny nipples, heavy thighs and long white legs. Her
pubic hair was shaved off. The girl looked at Bemish unabashedly, as if
unknown foreigners inspected her, naked, every day.
"What's your name," Bemish asked, mangling Weian words.
"Inis."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"Are you a maiden?"
"Of course, master. Mr. Kissur has chosen me himself."
Bemish jerked his eyebrows irritated.
"How did Kissur choose you?"
"He took me to Mrs. Idari," Inis said, "and the mistress said that you
needed a woman for your body and your house. She checked that I was a virgin
and that I cooked well, and she was satisfied."
When Idari's name was mentioned, Bemish's hands perspired suddenly. The
girl smiled and added teasingly.
"She was afraid of leaving me to Kissur. She is a very good wife. Do
you have a wife?"
Not answering her, Bemish released the blanket and it covered the girl
again. The thought about Jane destroyed all the pleasure. And also Idari! He
knew that, while caressing the Idari's gift, he would always think only
about the gift bearer.
"Put your clothes on. Ask Adini to find a bedroom for you."
"Won't we make love?" the frightened girl asked.
"No."
"Why did you buy me?"
"So, that somebody else wouldn't buy you."
It could be a sixty-year-old sadist in the district head rank, who
makes love to his secretaries in his office.
The girl was upset.
"If you made love to me," she said, "you would give me a new skirt and
earrings but you won't give me anything now."
"What skirt do you want?"
"I've just seen one at a fair - a long blue silk skirt, with a "dancing
flowers" embroidering and with three bands along the lap with pictures of
fishes, animals, and birds."
Bemish grinned. "All they want is money for the skirts," he thought
about Jane. "Blessed is the world, where they just ask openly for it."
He lay silently on the bed, in the pants and the jacket.
"Undress me," he ordered Inis.
The Fifth Chapter
Where Terence Bemish is being persuaded to drop out of Assalah stocks
auction while Shavash reminds the visitors that he is not familiar with the
financial term dictatorship.
One and a half tons of the equipment (out of the three tons ordered by
Bemish) arrived at the spaceport, and the Earthmen were spending days and
nights there.
On the third day, the precinct head herded the peasants to fix the road
with old concrete blocks so that the new White Villa master could drive his
iron barrel from the villa to the construction site.
The next week Bemish started to search for the missing equipment and
found it at Ravadan spaceport where it had been from the beginning. He had
to go to Ravadan.
Passing by the nearest village, Bemish noticed an unhitched wagon - the
peasants were gathering at the wagon and unloading the planks for the
assembling stage. It seemed to Bemish that the oldster in charge of the
construction was the same oldster, who played a god on the market in the
capital and tore apart the banknotes Bemish gave him.
An inspector in Ravadan claimed that the equipment containers were
emitting gamma radiation (it happened, rarely) and that they had to undergo
an expensive treatment. Bemish silently gave five thousand isheviks to the
inspector and, in half an hour, he was organizing the boxes being loaded in
a rented truck. The containers didn't emit any radiation whatsoever.
The boxes rode to Assalah, while Bemish stayed at the capital for a
reception given in the honor of the sovereign's ancestor, who had slept with
a mermaid three hundred and forty years ago.
There were very few women at the reception and Bemish's heart skipped a
beat when he saw Idari next to a lighted pool. She had a black dress with
sparkles and black shoes on. Two heavy braids entwining her head were held
by a butterfly shaped hairpin, strewn with the pink pearls, and a necklace
of the same pearls encircled her neck. She was talking to Shavash and
another man, unfamiliar to Bemish.
"Here you are, Bemish," Shavash turned around. "Let me introduce you -
the Empire's first minister, Mr. Yanik."
Bemish had been looking at Idari till then; he quickly turned to the
first minister. He was a neat senior man with a head, slightly flattened at
the temples, and grey eyes, more clever than intelligent. He was dressed
accordingly to Galactic fashion. Bemish didn't see anything striking in his
face and he immediately recalled the rumors about Yanik being a temporary
figurehead, a non-entity, put forth to the Emperor, till his patrons
couldn't settle on a compromise; the non-entity stuck to his position,
however, for a longer time, than the patrons had planned.
"Mr. Bemish would like to buy Assalah spaceport," Shavash said.
"Where will the money come from?"
"Mr. Bemish expects to collect the necessary money via the
high-interest bonds, underwritten on the world market by the well known LSV
bank."
At that point, a voice came from behind.
"It would be great, if Mr. Bemish explained where he will find the
money to pay the interest if the spaceport doesn't give two cents in the
first year."
Bemish turned around. Quite a number of people approached Yanik and the
words belonged to Giles.
"Mr. Giles' company," Shavash explained, "is also participating in the
auction,"
"The spaceport's owner," Bemish said, "will jump out of his pants to
find money. What will you do, however, besides buying the shares at one
price and offering them at the market at another? What will prevent you from
washing your hands?"
"That's right," another voice came in. "Your company's reputation is
not the best one."
"Mr. Rusby," Shavash introduced, "is another investment auction
participant."
Bemish and Giles turned around almost simultaneously.
"It's not for you to talk about reputation," Giles cried out.
"Who, exactly, is financing your offer?" Bemish was surprised.
Standing next to Rusby, the Gera envoy inclined his head slightly and
said.
"Several Gera banks support Mr. Rusby."
"Be careful," Giles grinned, "this man cheated the Galaxy investors out
of one and a half billion."
"The Securities Commission cheated them out of one and a half billion,"
Rusby objected. "Nobody can blame me in failing to pay what I promised, in
unsuccessful investments or in a pyramid scheme."
Giles went blue in the face.
"Is it true, Mr. Shavash," he said, "that the man who bankrupted two
hundred thousand investors, is participating in the Assalah auction?"
"Everybody is participating in the auction," the small official said.
"Including a rogue supported by the dictator's money?"
"I am not familiar with a financial term dictatorship," Shavash
replied.
Bemish looked around and noticed another witness of this ruckus -
Khanadar the Dried Date looked at him out of a corner. Bemish quietly came
to him and asked.
"So, how do you like the business world?"
Khanadar grinned.
"Once, twenty years ago," he said, "my comrades and I were coming back
from a not-so-successful trip. We had been going to pillage a town but when
we came in, the town had already been pillaged and the guys, who had
pillaged it, drove us away. We were famished since we didn't eat anything
for days. Even our horses croaked. Finally, we reached the coast and a town,
and the food and the loot in the town. Then, we got friendlier to each other
and began to hug and we had tried to keep a ten step distance, before, - to
avoid being eaten."
"I see. So, the Earthmen resemble you in this trip, before you found
this town."
"Eh, Terence-rey (Khanadar used a respectful Alom postfix.) We only
needed three rolls for a man not to worry about being eaten, but I still
haven't figured out how much an Earthman needs, not to eat another
Earthman."
X X X
The officials attended to Bemish extensively and soon the whole villa
was filled by their gifts - Bemish, however, had to make gifts of his own in
return.
Shavash send Bemish a painting as a gift. The painting was done in the
"thousand scales" style with spider web lines drawn on silk; a girl, feeding
from her hand a dragon that stuck its head out of the water, was depicted.
The girl with black hair and eyes, big like olives, resembled Idari and
Bemish hung it right above the table in his office. At their next meeting,
Shavash praised Bemish's taste and said that it was a fifth dynasty
painting, most probably, an excellent copy of a Koinna's masterpiece.
Bemish, somewhat galled that the gift was only a copy, inquired about the
original's location and Shavash, laughing, told him that the original was
stored in the palace and was fated to an eternal confinement, like the
Emperor's wives.
X X X
"However," Shavash added with a grin, "they now sell the palace
treasures left and right. I think that nobody reaps as much money as the
custodians of paintings and bowls; at least one third of everything that has
ever been painted and potted in by Eukemen is stored in the palace. Nobody
except the Emperor and the custodian in charge has access to the treasures,
there is absolutely no order there - steal as much as you want."
The headman heard this conversation and, arching his body in the usual
way, told Bemish that a far relative of his worked in the palace and would
love to meet the Earthman.
Bemish met him. The far relative appeared to be a small red nosed
official from the Department of Paintings, Tripods, and Bowls. The relative
showed Bemish color photographs of the astoundingly beautiful fifth dynasty
vessels and several paintings done in the "morning fog" style, most popular
at the Golden Sovereign times, and in the "thousand scales" style. The girl
and dragon painting was not there. Or, more precisely, it was there and not
one, but several of them - it was a popular sea prince tale - but none of
them belonged to Koinna's hand.
The official offered Bemish to sell anything the latter would like and
the price he asked for the fifth dynasty last survived silk paintings was
twice less than what any modern doodle, sold in Bonn's galleries, would
cost.
Bemish thanked the official and refused.
X X X
Kissur arranged for Bemish an audience in the Hundred Fields Hall.
Bemish left his car next to the Sky Palace wall and he was escorted
down the sanded paths and fragrant alleys.
In a light flooded hall, resembling a fragment from a fairy tale from
the sky, the officials whispered, dressed in ancient court clothes. In half
an hour, a silver curtain moved to the side - the Emperor Varnazd was
sitting on the amethyst throne. The Emperor was dressed in white, he had a
sad delicate face with strikingly made-up eyebrows, rising at the tips. It
looked like a silent single actor play. Bemish thought it to be a very sad
play.
The curtain soon moved back and the officials dispersed to attend their
own business.
Bemish crossed the fragrant gardens and exited the palace gate. The
square in front of the palace gasped with heat, two half-naked brats
explored a stinking street rut with their hands.
Bemish opened his car, foraged in the glove compartment and dished
several chocolate bars out to the brats. They tore the wrappers apart
sinking their rotting teeth into the chocolate.
"Hey," Bemish asked in his crappy Weian, "do you know what Earth is?"
"Of course. It's a place in the sky, where we'll go after we die, if we
behave ourselves and obey the Emperor."
Having turned the air conditioning on, Bemish sat in the car for a
while, looking at the silver beasts on the palace wall crest, remembering
the Hundred Fields Hall's immense luxury, the golden ceiling and jade
columns. "A very rich government of a very poor nation," he thought.
X X X
In two weeks, Bemish was at a party that the first minister threw to
celebrate his birthday. There was food and binge drinking and girls. There
was swimming in a night pond. There were various contracts made and papers
signed amidst the dishes with stuffed dates and the dishes with everything
that was raised in the sky and raised on the ground, these very papers would
normally involve huge bribes; the bribes, however, were still supposed be
paid later. There were also songs and poetry. A ministry of finance official
- was his name Tai? - took something resembling a lute and started playing
music and singing.
Then, a girl sang a song - it was a very lyrical song. Bemish was told
that an official named Andarz had written this song about twenty years ago.
He was the police minister and he had suppressed the Chakhar uprising,
having hung everybody who couldn't buy him off and letting off everybody who
could. Coming back to the capital, he wrote the cycle of his best poetry
about the four seasons. Bemish felt chills run down his spine, he leaned
over to Kissur and said.
"This is a great singer."
The girl finished the song and sat, by Kissur's order, on Bemish's
knees.
Afterwards, they started playing rhymes. Bemish, of course, didn't know
Weian good enough to compose a verse with a given rhyme or to finish a line.
But, somehow, he felt that he wouldn't do any better in English than in
Weian.
A street singer was brought in.
Bemish recalled how he was driving from the spaceport and asked his
interpreter - the guy had started as one of the Weians that washed dishes on
the ground - to stop the car. He wanted to look at the street puppeteer with
a crowd gathered around him on the curb. The interpreter answered that it
was "uncultured." Bemish asked what was "cultured," and he found out that it
was "cultured" for the whole neighborhood to attend trashy Hollywood and
Seilass movies.
Here, among the higher officials, nobody thought that listening to a
street singer was uncultured.
The street singer sang praise to the guests and they tossed money into
his hat and showed him to the kitchen. The officials started singing
themselves.
If only they hadn't sung! Then, everything would have been fine and it
would have just been corrupted bureaucrats' drunken debauchery. But they
sang so well! Bemish had a difficulty imagining state department officials
coming to their boss's party and singing so well - or signing such papers at
the same party.
Or was it all related? And will the poetry follow the corruption on its
way to extinction? Mr. Andars departed Chakhar, burned by him, for the
capital and composed his most beautiful poetry cycle about summer and fall.
He was probably very happy. He probably obtained a lot of booty on the
Chakhar trip.
Eight years later, Kissur and Andars found themselves on the different
sides of the same sword and Kissur had hung rebellious Andars and loved
listening to his poetry.
The next week, Bemish arranged a return feast at his villa.
During the dinner, Shavash kept glancing at Inis, who was serving the
guests. When she, having provided the guests with the sweets, walked by
Shavash with an empty tray, the official pulled her to himself suddenly and
seated her on his knees. Inis jumped off hurriedly, upsetting Shavash's cup
with her sleeve. Fortunately, there was no wine left in the cup.
Excusing himself, Shavash left earlier than the others. Bemish walked
him down.
Getting in his car, Shavash said.
"Inis is charming, Terence. They say you made her your secretary? She
is as smart as she is attractive, isn't she?"
"Yes."
"I will never believe it! Would you like a bet - I will take your
secretary in for two weeks, and if I am satisfied, I owe you fifty
thousand."
Bemish was silent.
"Mr. Bemish!"
"I can't do you this favor, vice-minister."
"Let me have her for one night, then. She can choose afterwards."
"Look, Shavash, have you asked Kissur to let you have Idari for a
night?"
"How can you compare it?" Shavash was offended. "Idari is a highborn
lady and what do you have here? A small briber's daughter that you bought
for thirty thousand - they cheated you by charging twice more than the
regular price."
"Get out of here, vice-minister," Bemish said, "before you hurt
yourself over my fist."
X X X
In the evening, after all the guests had left, Bemish walked upstairs
to the bedroom. Inis lay in the bed. Bemish sat on the blanket's edge and
the woman, propping herself up, started to unbutton his jacket and shirt.
"This official, Shavash, asked me to hand you over to him," Bemish
said. "At first, he hoped that I would offer you myself and, then, he
couldn't hold it any longer and just blurted it out. I almost trounced him."
Inis shuddered.
"Don't give me away to Shavash," she said. "He is a nasty man. He has
five wives and a whip for each one. He hangs out in red light streets at
night and locks himself with his secretaries during the daytime - a week ago
a secretary of his hanged himself - they said he embezzled too much. And how
he entertains himself in bawdy houses!"
Bemish reddened. His knowledge of Shavash's behavior in bawdy houses
was based on personal observations. And he doubted his behavior was much
better.
X X X
The next day, when Bemish walked upstairs, Inis's room was empty. A
pale note lay lonely on the table. "I hate him. But he called me and said
that he would hang my father."
Bemish was at the ministry of finance in an hour. He threw a frightened
secretary away and appeared at Shavash's office door.
"You scoundrel," Bemish said. "I'll tell Kissur everything. I'll tell
the sovereign..."
"And the human rights committee," the official nodded. "I don't want to
place you in an uncomfortable position, director. I assure you that Inis's
father deserves a rope - I have his dossier here. It's pretty horrible - all
these dirty tricks that a small, stupid, and greedy briber can commit, the
dirty tricks that ended with deaths and dishonor. Can you believe that - for
a bribe, he switched some names on the arraignment orders after the Chakhar
rebellion, he accepted as completed a water dam that burst in a month and
destroyed a whole village. I assure you - if you complain to the sovereign,
her father will certainly be executed."
"Give me back my wife," Bemish screamed.
The official stood up unhurriedly from his armchair, walked around the
table and stopped right next to the Earthman. Bemish stared right into his
attentive golden eyes and long lightly mascara coated eyelashes.
"What do you want from me?" Bemish said. "Deals? Bribes?"
Shavash smiled at the Earthman without answering. Shavash was still
very beautiful, maybe slight overweight for his height, and Bemish was
surprised to notice some grey strands in his hair.
Shavash raised his hand slowly and suddenly started to unbutton
Terence's jacket. Bemish was confounded and he closed his eyes. The hot
hands slipped under his shirt and a soft voice sounded right next to him.
"If you want to quench your thirst, don't quarrel with a spring,
Earthman."
Bemish didn't feel repulsion. But he definitely felt horror. Shavash's
lips appeared next to his and, at least a minute passed, till Bemish
realized that they were kissing. Then, a phone rang far away.
Bemish came back to his senses.
His jacket was unbuttoned, the shirt stood out above the pants in a
funny way and something jutted in the pants. The small official stood in
front of him and looked at the Earthman with laughing eyes.
Bemish raised his hand lifelessly and wiped his mouth with the palm.
"Beat it," Shavash said. "Take your concubine and beat it. She bores
me. She mewled in bed all night."
Bemish retreated crabwise to the door, turned around and rushed out.
"Button yourself, at least!" the official sarcastically shouted after
him.
Having torn out the office door handle, Bemish jumped out into the
foyer. Something flapped in the air and a plastic folder fell at Bemish's
feet with multicolored pages standing out. It was the folder with the Inis'
father dossier. Bemish snatched it and kept running.
X X X
Nobody believed that Kissur would make friends with the Earthman.
Greenmailer, par venue, gobbler that has recently swallowed a small
automated door
company with LSV help and used it as a step to swallow something
bigger; one of the youngsters, that Trevis made his money with - a nobody
without Trevis. This man had the crappiest reputation on Wall Street. "The
hungriest of Trevis's scoundrels," the director of the automated door
company said about him after he had been fired. How could Kissur, who
considered a well-behaved president of, say, Morgan James to be an usurer
fit for the gallows, be friends with this financial horse thief?
The friendship between the Earthman and Kissur caused a bit of harmless
gossip - everybody expected that either the Earthman calls Kissur a
pedigreed bandit or Kissur reproaches Bemish with the latter's passionate
avarice. However, Kissur's presenting Bemish with his manor, caused thoughts
and glances in the five main precincts.
Bemish visited the capital police prefect to sign a paper with a blue
line. The prefect congratulated him with the manor, sighed and said.
"You shouldn't be so close to Kissur. Do you know how he launched his
career? He and his seven friends robbed a state caravan. They killed thirty
six guards and Kissur put the caravan master's head on a stake, thought the
man was not guilty of anything except having children and an old mother that
he needed to support. Then, Kissur quarreled with the robbers because their
leader didn't want to step aside for him and he baked the leader in an earth
oven."
"But now," Bemish quipped, "Kissur doesn't have to rob caravans."
The prefect passed his hand over his cheek.
"There are, alas, dozens of people around Kissur. These people can
handle weapons, despise bribers and traders and think robbery to be the only
respectable profit source. Do you think that our country is poor due to
bribers and large taxes? Alas, our businessmen don't pay money to the
government, they, instead, pay money to the bandits who protect them from
the other bandits."
"Nobody," Bemish said, "asked me for the protection money."
"Exactly," the police prefect said.
Bemish wanted to grab the damn official by his neck and ask him whether
he was hinting that Kissur was in charge of the capital criminals. He,
however, thanked him for the signature and left. Although, Kissur did take
him to one of the city's most famous thief's taverns and he was welcome
there - Bemish learned later that if he ambled in this tavern without a
pass, he wouldn't have just been killed there - the tavern's guests would
have been fed his body in a soup - that was their cute way of getting rid of
the corpses.
X X X
That day, Bemish was in the finance ministry, at Shavash's. Entering
his office, he stumbled upon a pale upset man, dressed in standard clothing
but having soft Weian manners.
Shavash led him into the garden, where fountains and birds chirped, and
ordered a table with appetizers. Somehow the conversation unnoticeably
drifted to Idari, Kissur's wife. Shavash said that if not for Idari, Kissur
would have smashed his head long time ago.
"He loves her a lot," Shavash said, sighing. Three months ago, he
feasted the people at her naming day, and he spent three million."
He paused and added.
"Where do you think Kissur gets so much money if he doesn't take bribes
and doesn't do any business?"
"It's the tax police business and not mine, to know where he gets the
money," Bemish said. "And it's the sovereign's business, since he bequests
him an oil well or a manor every month."
Shavash waved his hand and started drinking tea. In five minutes, he
suddenly said.
"Do you know the man who left just before you came in? He is the Damass
insurance company director. It was robbed yesterday. They took twenty
million dinars in cash."
Bemish was surprised - newspapers published nothing about the robbery.
"Why did they have so much money in cash?" Bemish inquired.
"That's exactly the problem," Shavash sighed. "That's the question, who
is the company going to pay such a sum of money to - on a holiday evening?"
He paused.
"It will not appear in the newspapers. But the company was indeed
robbed."
"Will it appear to the police?"
"Yes," Shavash said, "since our police - if asked - will not inquire
why the company needed this money."
Bemish finished his coffee and asked.
"Listen, Shavash, are you trying to tell me that Kissur robs banks at
nights or that you, at least, will do your best to convince the sovereign of
it?"
"Come on, Mr. Bemish," the official was taken aback, "why did you..."
And suddenly he tousled his hair. "He is a madman! If he is passing a house
on fire, he will rush inside to get a child out and, if he is passing a
house that's not burning, he will set it aflame."
Bemish bit his lip. The official was lying gently and consciously but
he was correct on one point - Kissur despised bankers unflappably and he
would approve of a bank robber. The words "order," "debt," and "commitment
to the sovereign" were never far from his lips but Bemish knew perfectly
well, that this adherent of order lived his life in such a way that he far
outperformed any anarchist and rebel buff. Kissur wouldn't rob a bank for
money but the sovereign's favorite could easily take the money for fun and
throw it in the next canal.
X X X
In the evening, when Bemish dropped by the hotel, yearning for the food
of his childhood and hoping to get something other than a marinated
jellyfish or a guinea pig burger, somebody called him. Bemish turned around
and recognized Richard Giles and another Richard - MacFarlein - the IC
people.
"Drop it," Giles said.
"What?"
"Drop this project. You won't get anything out of it, anyway. Do
something else - build the business center instead of Kaminsky."
Bemish felt his face paling with rage. It looked like Giles has already
picked up the local officials' manners.
"I," Bemish said, "have invested too much in this business to just drop
it."
"How much have you invested," Giles smiled. "IC will pay your
expenses."
"How is that? Since when do the private companies pay the competitors'
expenses?"
"You will not win this auction," Giles said.
Here, McFarlein spoke softly.
"Mr. Bemish," he said, "why do you need this planet? Bribers,
criminals, heretics, zealots, and now, terrorists. Have you heard that
yesterday an Earthman was shot in Chakhar - he owned several plants. By the
way, the Chakhar governor's son did the shooting - a Sorbonne graduate, an
anarcho-communist or something like that. Another lad, an Earthman, was with
him... "We will instigate a full-scale terror against the Earth
exploitators, weed the bribers out and build the Crystal Palace on Weia
afterwards, and erect two monuments in front of the palace - for Karl Marx
and for the sovereign Irshahchan."
Bemish stared at him dumbfounded. "Uh-huh," a thought passed his mind,
"isn't it the same lad who came with Ashidan?"
And Giles cast a transparent eye and delivered.
"Yeah. Aren't you afraid to be shot by a heretic, a local or an
imported one?"
Bemish took Giles by a button and said.
"Listen, Giles, have you seen how Kissur casts a spear?"
"What does a spear have to do with it?" Giles was astonished.
"Kissur just casts a spear and the spear runs through a hefty birch all
the way. And today one guy told me that I should keep away from Kissur since
he robbed caravans and another hinted that I should keep away from Kissur
since he robbed banks. And though Kissur doesn't rob banks - I am sure, you
know, that if I pass our conversation to Kissur, and I'll do it, and I am
killed afterwards - then Kissur will kill you, Mr. Giles and you, Mr.
McFarlein. And he will assuredly kill you - nobody has heard yet about
Kissur wanting to kill somebody and failing."
Giles stepped back. Clearly, he didn't like all that much the words
about the spear and the birch.
X X X
Richard Giles walked upstairs to his room still under the impression
from the conversation in the hall. Whistling through his teeth, he dialed
the personal Shavash's line number - no secretaries - and, in two seconds,
he said in the receiver.
"This son of a bitch, Bemish - are you still going to admit him to the
auction?"
"I guarantee you," Shavash replied, "that this man is absolutely
harmless. Everything will happen accordingly to our plan."
"Harmless?" Giles screamed. "Do you know that half of his inquires on
Earth deal with IC? Do you know what he told Kissur?"
"I know," Shavash said ironically, "if I am not mistaken, you got the
taped conversation from me."
"Damn it! Yes, that was you. Anyway, do you think that's fine? What if
Kissur repeats these words to the sovereign? Where will we be then?"
"What do you want?"
"Take action."
"I will not take any action," Shavash said, "causing your newspapers to
write that the Empire is an unsafe place for foreign investors. If you take
such an action, you will not get even the tiniest piece of Assalah, not even
the size of a melon seed. Have I made myself clear?"
"Very clear," Giles muttered.
"You have no reasons to be nervous," Shavash said.
"No reasons? What if he just buys the damn company?"
"You will have to offer a bit more for the shares. Nine point one
dinar, at least. You have to agree that I just can't give the company away
to an investor that paid twice less for it. Everything has a limit."
"Son of a bitch," Giles said, slamming the receiver down. "He is just
using this Bemish to squeeze more money out of us. Nine point one! How can I
get a clearance for this money?"
"No problem," his companion said. "We can use an alternative approach
and deflate his ego meanwhile."
"Have you heard, what he said?"
"I heard it. I said - a totally alternative approach. Who finances this
Bemish guy? Trevis..."
Bemish left the hotel for the city. He spent some time in the temple
that he had visited with Kissur and descended to the tavern. A young man met
him in the tavern.
The young man offered to sell him twenty thousand Assalah shares at six
hundred a piece.
They bargained a bit and Bemish bought the shares for five hundred
eighty.
Bemish silently pulled the checkbook out and tore of a check that was
already filled with the correct number. The young man looked at him
respectfully and said.
"How did you know what price we would agree on?"
Bemish grinned. He had three checkbooks in his pockets and all of them
had the first check filled out - the other two checks Bemish would feed to
the garbage burner in an hour.
Bemish signed the check and gave it to the youth.
"Would you like to eat?" Bemish asked.
"I'd rather go."
"Hold on. How did you get the shares?"
"They are not mine, they belong to my uncle."
"How did your uncle get them?"
"He bought them."
"Why did he buy these shares in particular?"
"He bought a lot of securities."
"Why did he decide to sell them?"
"He needs money urgently. He got sent to prison."
"Why?"
The youth pointed at his basket.
"Because of the Assalah shares?"
"The investigator was asking him about these shares at the
interrogation. He hinted my uncle that he would let him go if my uncle gives
the shares to a higher official that would like to acquire them."
"Shavash?"
"Don't say it out loud. It works this way, Mr. Earthman - while a word
is in your mouth - you are its master, and when the word is out of your
mouth - it is your master."
"Why didn't your uncle give the shares to the official?"
"He went nuts, when he heard it," the youth said. "He said that he
would give these shares to a man that can kick the official in the butt."
"He could sell them cheaper, then."
"No. The jailers take too much. Good food in the jail costs more than
in the best restaurant, you know. Also, very strict orders concerning my
uncle have been given and the jailers charge him a higher price for being
benevolent."
"Oh, well," Bemish said. "It could be worse, two million for half a
percent."
The youth hesitated.
"It's actually," he said, "no more than twenty five hundredth of a
percent."
"Whaaat?!"
"Don't you know that? Half a year ago, when the share price was lower
than the moon in a well, Shavash secretly issued additional shares and
distributed them among his friends."
"Secret shares?!!"
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, this is first time in my life when I stumbled upon this
particular type of securities manipulation. And how many shares have been
issued?"
"I don't know. Some people say that it was a million and a half, some
people say that it was two million."
"Who says that? Where could I find this out?"
"Promise not to refer to my uncle's name."
"I don't know his name, how can I refer to it?"
"Still, promise it."
"Ok."
"I think that the Assalah district chief judge has these shares and
knows a lot."
X X X
Bemish returned to Kissur's villa late at night. He almost always
stopped there now when he visited the capital. He wanted to see Idari more
often.
A phone call woke Bemish in the middle of the night.
"Yes?"
"Terence?"
Bemish almost jumped up. The LSV director was talking to him from
Earth.
"We have a great offer for you," Trevis said, "the Union Disk company.
They make laser disks. Get here. It can be bought."
"I am working on Assalah."
"It's not a promising deal. We will not finance it."
Bemish fell apart inside.
"Ronald! You guaranteed it..."
"We will pay you the forfeit."
"I don't need the forfeit, I need Assalah."
"Get back to Earth," Trevis said, "and we will talk about Union Disk."
"What should I do with the Assalah shares? I bought 17%!!!"
"Sell them. It's your profession."
"If you don't finance this deal, I will find another company."
"You will not find another company, Terence, because no other company
lets you on their doorstep. You are nothing, Terence. You are a greenmailer
with twenty million dollars in your pocket. We made you. Nobody else needs
you. You are a financial pirate. I will be waiting for you tomorrow in my
office, at fifteen thirty. If you don't get stuck in traffic, you will make
it."
And Ronald Trevis put the receiver down.
X X X
Bemish turned the light on, put the clothes on and sat at the table. He
sat there for a while, till he heard the door creaking. Bemish turned around
- Kissur and Khanadar the Dried Date walked in. Khanadar looked quite
dashing in black laced pants and a brocade barbarian jacket. Kissur had a
grey suit and a tie on.
"Hey," Kissur said, "it's fantastic that you are not asleep. We decided
to get some kicks in a pub. Let's go."
Bemish was silent.
"What has happened to you, Terence? You look like a fly in insect
spray!"
"I am screwed," Bemish said. "Trevis refuses to finance the deal."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I don't know where Shavash got such powerful
connections."
"I see. What are you going to do?"
"I am going to sell the shares. I don't have any other choice."
"Are you going to sell them at the higher price than you bought them
at?"
"Naturally... I hold a large block. I can make IC's life hard if it
doesn't buy it at the price I want. If I, for instance, appeal IC's actions
in an international arbiter court, it will get into one hell of a
trouble..."
"It's called greenmail, right?" Kissur specified.
"Yes."
"Shavash was right, then," Kissur said.
"How dare you!" Bemish shouted, leaping up - and he saw Kissur's
contorted face in front of him and the white knuckles on his fist. Bemish
managed to duck the first punch. The second one threw him off the chair and
to the floor. Bemish somersaulted and bounced back on his feet, the Kissur's
boot square tip missed his ear by a centimeter.
Bemish had a chance of holding his own against Kissur but Khanadar the
Dried Date was also in the office.
"Dumb jerk," Bemish screamed getting in a fighting stance but here
Khanadar grabbed him by the elbows. At the next moment, Kissur's knee
collided with Bemish's groin; Kissur turned and kicked Bemish in the ear
with the same leg. The Earthman collapsed to the floor. Kissur sat atride
him and started to choke him.
"Haven't I told you," Kissur hissed sitting astride the expiring
Earthman, "that I would kill you?"
Bemish grunted and hissed striving to say something. Khanadar
approached and stood next to them.
"Let him go for a second," Khanadar said, "let him admit that he wanted
to cheat us from the very beginning. He thinks it's a planet he can take a
good crap at."
Kissur grinned and loosened up the clench. Bemish lay like a worm on a
garden path.
"Idiot," the financier coughed, "I wanted to buy Assalah."
An atrocious kick with a boot in the ribs silenced him.
"Again."
"I wanted to buy Assalah. Trevis was ready to finance the deal. I don't
know why he refused. He was browbeaten."
Another kick followed, this time it was the groin.
"Liar! Trevis didn't refuse anything. You were playing your favorite
game! You took us for worms, didn't you?"
"I wanted to buy Assalah. Trevis was browbeaten."
"Who?"
"Shavash."
"Yeah? Why wasn't it IC?"
"IC has headquarters in an Arkansas dog's kernel. Their balls are too
small to push Trevis around. They should buy a new fax machine first."
"Why is Shavash afraid of you?"
"Shavash wants a buyer who will blink at all his frauds. It was not a
company - they were just pumping the budget money into private pockets! Last
year Shavash secretly issued more bonds! I think that this goes against even
the bizarre local securities regulations."
"What is "secret bond issue?"
"I don't know. I have never stumbled upon such a financial product as a
secretly issued bond in all my life. But, basically, it means that Shavash
re-divided the company accordingly to his wishes - he gave his friends more
and he devalued the stocks belonging to his enemies or bystanders."
"What about the state's share?"
"It depends on how many additional shares the state obtained."
"He is lying through his teeth," Khanadar said. "They would have
arranged it with Shavash about thieving. He was going to cheat us from the
very beginning."
"No!"
"All right," Kissur said. "I will believe you but only with one
condition. You will sell the company shares at the same price you bought
them."
"No."
Kissur grinned and took one of the swords hanging in the room from a
prop. He got it out of the sheath and pushed its triangular tip in Bemish's
throat.
"Yes, or I will kill you."
Bemish licked his lips. He didn't doubt that Kissur would kill him.
It's stupid. Terence Bemish, a successful financier, half-crook half-genius,
had never considered ending his life in a huge city manor of an Empire
ex-minister - in the manor, where not a single servant would ever blurt out
anything about his fate or, to the opposite, all the servants would swear
that Bemish left the manor gate whole and unhurt... Nobody would ever prove
anything. Even Shavash would not kill him. Not because he minded killing,
but because he was a rational man and he clearly would not want Weia to be
declared a place where foreign investors were found with their throats
cut... Nothing is cheaper than hiring a killer. But Shavash didn't kill
Bemish, he went for Trevis instead - it was an order of magnitude more
difficult and expensive...
"If I don't sell the shares with a rake-off," Bemish said, "I'll go
bankrupt. They will point their fingers at me. I will not do what you want."
"Take your knife, Kissur, and cut his balls off, " Khanadar said, "it
doesn't befit you to dirty your noble sword by a money-grubber."
"You wanted that from the very beginning, didn't you?"
"No, I wanted to buy Assalah."
"How much do you need to buy Assalah?"
"If only half of my potential creditors fulfill their promises without
Trevis, I'll need five million."
"I will find this money," Kissur said, throwing the sword back in the
sheath and he left.
The Sixth Chapter
Where company AC declares its real name while Mr. Shavash mentions
several unexpected thoughts about democracy's drawbacks.
The announcement of the investment auction for the acquisition of the
state-owned block of shares was published in the government's White Herald a
day before the application deadline. The announcement mandated that the
auction participants should turn in a deposit of 6% of projected investment
and should demonstrate reliable proof of being able to fulfill the assumed
financial obligations.
Trevis hadn't called Bemish since - it was below his dignity. On the
other hand, the corporate financing department head called and told Bemish
that he didn't need to hurry back to Trevis' headquarters since he wouldn't
be received anyway.
The next day, Bemish stepped out of a luxurious limo that arrived at
the ministry of finance, formerly first minister Rush's palace. A crowd was
already there, including the local financiers who, having heard about the
Assalah fray, were willing to risk taking part in the auction. Kissur
appeared in the registration hall at almost the same time as Bemish.
Shavash, the director of the company offered for tender, ignored Bemish
utterly. He was talking to an Earth journalist. The subject of the talk was
the importance of foreign investors - only they were able to force Weian
companies to correspond to international audit standards and raise Empire
finances to a new level.
Bemish silently watched the official registering his application and
entering the necessary financial contrivances into the computer. What if
this bastard makes an error and Bemish won't be allowed to participate on
technical grounds.
The official finished the registration, shoved an embossed sheet with
the application in the printer and, having printed everything, carried it to
Shavash for a signature. Shavash, without being distracted from the
progressive interview, signed everything.
Bemish moved away to a small table where, by Weian custom, fruits and a
special bowl constantly filled with peach juice stood. The juice filled the
bowl through a special tube and symbolized the everlasting plenty. Bemish
poured some juice in a cup and here Giles approached him.
"Can I ask you where you got the money?" Giles enquired.
"The investment company Plana offered me credit."
"What kind of company is it?"
"It's a company located on Gera," Bemish replied gloating.
"A company located on Gera? Why not a company located in a devil's
arse? When did it come to being, yesterday?"
Bemish looked at his watch.
"To be precise, it came to being today, three hours ago."
Meanwhile, Shavash finished his enlightened interview and led Kissur
aside.
"Did you," he asked, "loan Bemish money?"
"Am I a usurer?" Kissur was offended, "to loan money? It was a gift."
"You were born of a Barsharg goat!" Shavash swore. "This is the last
you'll see of it."
"Let's see," Kissur said, "who wins the auction."
Here, another Earth journalist approached Shavash and the company
director started repeating how only a scrupulous foreign investor could save
Weian economics.
By the evening, the bored journalists, hanging out at the cafe, could
record in their notebooks that three companies were interested in the
state's offer - Bemish's ADO, IC Corporation, and Rusby and C - were
offering to buy the shares out first and to finance the construction out of
the galactic company resources afterwards. Five or six large investment
banks were also interested. They were not going to buy Assalah shares
themselves. They mostly offered to the government various alternatives of
convertible bonds that these banks would distribute to the Galactic
investors - the bonds would be converted, at some date, to Assalah shares
now belonging to the state. Such a large number of investment bank aspirants
had surprised Bemish at first but he was told later that actually his modest
person was the source. The players on the fund market ferreted out that
Terence Bemish was going to buy some blip-blop limited in some banana
republic, decided that it had to be a swell deal and followed him like the
honey gatherers follow a bee.
X X X
A phone call from Kissur woke Bemish up at 3am.
"Hello, Terence. The investment auction is cancelled. Two hours, after
the applications had been submitted, Shavash sold 51% of state-owned Assalah
shares to IC Company at five and a half dinars per share."
"What do you mean sold?" Bemish choked.
The line went off.
X X X
Fifteen minutes later, a car stopped under the hotel windows and Kissur
jumped out of it.
"Dress," Kissur said. "We are going to the sovereign."
"Why?"
At this point, the phone rang again. Bemish picked up the receiver.
"Terence, this is Shavash. Call your complaint off."
"What complaint?"
"Don't pretend. Call off the complaint that you wrote to the sovereign
requesting to arrest me for bribery."
"Have you lost your mind? I've never written this crap!"
"Terence, if you go to the sovereign you will be squashed flat. You can
forget about working in a bank - they won't hire you as a cashier in a
supermarket. Got it?"
"I haven't..."
Shavash slammed the receiver.
"I signed the complaint for you, Bemish," Kissur said. "The sovereign
will examine it at this morning audience."
Bemish grabbed his head.
"Oh, my God, Kissur are you nuts? If you don't have mercy for me, have
mercy for your own country!"
"I have mercy for my country," Kissur said. "You explained to me, what
IC is yourself. They will just rob us and that's it. Or, were you bulling
me?"
"I didn't bull you, Kissur. Just get it - the contract has been signed.
That's it. Finita la comedia. These stocks are IC's property. If they find
out that an international company can have its property taken away from it
on your planet just because some authorities think that some bribes were
involved, you will not need any spaceports anymore! No financier will ever
come here! It's worse than tank trips over a joint company. "
Kissur stuck out his lip stubbornly. Clearly, the threat that no more
dinar and dollar fans appear in the Empire, didn't frighten him much.
"Get it, you stupid idiot, that any losses resulting from Assalah sold
off incorrectly won't even come close with the losses resulting from the
cancellation of a completed contract. I will not even mention that nobody
will let me back to LSV. I will not even mention that IC is totally in its
right to sue me in arbitration court even if I get your complaint thrown
back at my face!"
"But I will say that it's my complaint."
"And they will, of course, believe you on the spot," Bemish waved his
hand. "Well, leave me alone for these three hours."
"What are you gonna do?"
"Think," Bemish said.
X X X
Exactly four hours later, Bemish, accompanied by Kissur walked down the
sovereign garden's paths to a small six room pavilion. Above the pavilion
entrance, a flag with an inscription Fairness and Concentration Hall was
swaying. Two golden peacocks of wondrous craftsmanship guarded the inner
hall entrance. The sovereign Varnazd sat in a down armchair next to a
window. He wore a long white dress, with wide sleeves fastened at the wrists
by pearl clasps and, uncovered, his face, thin as onion undergarment peels,
looked somewhat lost and na ve. Shavash followed Bemish into the hall and
first minister Yanik also came in. Shavash and Yanik were draped in the
ceremonial kaftans with all their rank insignias - Bemish had never seen
them before. A red fiery dragon, with rubies sewn in his claws, on the first
minister's dress dazed him unexpectedly and Bemish suddenly felt something
he had never suspected before - a certain meagerness of his impeccably made
cashmere wool suite compared to the red dragon with the ruby decorated
claws. As for Kissur, he was dressed the same way as he had been earlier,
visiting Bemish, - in ragged leather pants.
"You filed a complaint, Mr. Bemish," the sovereign said, "could you
describe how you were mistreated."
"I didn't file this complaint," Bemish said. "And, having certain
business ethics views, I consider it impossible to request a
re-consideration of a completed contract. However, I have a question to Mr.
Shavash - what was your decision to cancel the investment auction based on
and what was your decision to sell the company for a three times less money,
than I offered, based on?"
The sovereign turned to the vice-minister of finance.
"I would like to hear your answer, Mr. Shavash."
"We didn't cancel the auction," Shavash stated. "We just ran it on a
shorter time scale. Considering Mr. Bemish's application, we judged it to be
incomplete since LSV investment bank, which had been expected to underwrite
the bonds, and several other large commercial banks, which had been expected
to advance credit to Mr. Bemish, pulled out having realized that the offer
had been overpriced.
"After some investors pulled out, I found others!" Bemish cried out.
"The company from Gera, that loaned money to you, doesn't have any
credit history and is very suspicious. SC Trading that promised to
distribute your bonds is a tiny investment boutique with absolutely no
authority on the capital market. We doubt that the bonds distributed by it
will be worth more than fifty cents for a dinar. Therefore, your application
is comparable with that of IC."
Shavash paused and continued.
"Meanwhile, Mr. Bemish's actions clearly demonstrated that he was not
going to acquire Assalah. Long before his arrival, he had been buying
Assalah stocks through several companies. Violating the law, he didn't
register the fact that he owned in reality more than 13% of Assalah stocks.
The only goal of his actions was to put pressure at the future company
management so that they would acquire the stocks at a higher price. To
achieve this purpose Terence Bemish didn't shrink from anything. A foreigner
ignoring the ways and customs of our country, thinking only about his
rake-off, - he abused his position as a manor owner forcing the peasants
present him with their shares. Using his highly placed connections, he
browbeat a local official into giving him the Assalah shares that the latter
acquired when their price was forty ishevik a share; afterwards, he had the
gall to fire the official. Since Terence Bemish violated the regulations
regarding share block registration, I demand the companies Raniko, Alvisir
Trust and LLA be removed from the Assalah stock owners list without any
compensation. "
The Emperor raised his hand.
"These are serious accusations, Mr. Bemish. Can you answer them?"
"Can I answer them? Of course! Shavash has just mentioned 13% of shares
that the peasants had received free of charge as compensation for the
spaceport construction taking place on their land. Would you really believe
that Shavash waited for me to seize the stocks from the peasants? Yes! I
confiscated the stocks from the official and I didn't pay him anything -
because I was going to return these stocks to the peasants. Shavash accuses
me of violating the local securities regulations. It would have taken place
if Raniko had owned more than 5% of shares and hadn't registered it.
Otherwise, there are no violations involved. Unlike me, Shavash can be
accused of many things, most importantly, that when the stock price
plummeted to the minimum, Shavash secretly issued more stocks and
distributed them among his friends. Weian securities regulations are quite
bizarre but those actions are criminal even here. I will be bold enough to
claim that IC was aware of this outrage taking place and that nothing but
this thievery caused Mr. Shavash to sell the company to the people that will
not make any complaints.
"Can you answer these accusations, Mr. Shavash?" the Emperor asked.
"Of course," Shavash said. "I will, however, need a computer with a
CDROM."
It took a moment, for a CD player (instead of a computer) to be
delivered to the room. Shavash fished a disk out of his pocket, inserted it
in a slit and pressed a button.
An open tavern veranda appeared on the screen, together with a table
and a window. Bemish sat at the table with a small man - tensing, he
recognized the palace official offering him the paintings from the Empire
treasury on sale.
The official pulled several photographs out and Bemish started to leaf
through them. The camera zoomed in on the photographs where Bemish suddenly
saw the Koinna's painting. Then, Bemish pointed at a girl and a dragon with
his finger and he chose several more photographs. The official nodded.
Then, the camera glanced over a group of people delivering several
boxes to Bemish's villa and zoomed in on a girl and a dragon in his office.
"This man talks about ethics," Shavash said, "buying, meanwhile, for a
thousand dinars the paintings that cost millions - the paintings from the
forbidden chambers that a mere mortal could not put his eyes on! The
Koinna's painting is a national treasure, this painting numbers among the
palace's first hundred sacred objects, the Emperor's ancestors brought
bloodless sacrifices and prayed for the dynasty fortune in front of this
painting - in his gall, this man hung this painting above his table - so
that the two founders of the Alom dynasty could look at the doughnuts that
the Earthman eats at his table assessing the Empire value at his computer! I
don't know, what punishments fit the exchange brokers, but nobody has yet
rescinded the law about palace thieves having their guts torn out! And
nothing is written there about exceptions being made for Earthmen, since the
law was enacted four hundred fifty years ago when the Empire was the center
of the world and nobody heard a whisper yet about all these people from the
skies!"
The first minister Yanik even clicked his tongue in admiration
listening to Shavash. Unlike the Earthmen, he knew very well that the
sovereign was indifferent to securities and uranium mines, that he knew very
little about, but that he was enraged to the utmost by palace robbery;
almost everything stolen had not only artistic value but was also sacred,
and the ignorance of the Earthmen buying invaluable objects for a penny hurt
the sovereign to his heart.
"You gave me this painting!" Bemish shouted.
"I gave you a copy, while you arranged it with the thieves to
substitute it for an original!"
"You are a piece of shit and a scoundrel," Kissur screamed at Shavash.
"And this tape is a fake."
"I am ready to submit this tape to an international examination,"
Shavash claimed, smiling, "with experts' opinions published in all the
newspapers."
Giles quietly leaned towards Bemish and whispered.
"They warned you, Bemish, that they would flatten you into the ground.
That they would make egg powder out of you and send it as humanitarian aid
to Ganaya lizards. Do you understand that you stand a chance to be hanged?"
"Can I have your complaint, please, Mr. Bemish?" the Emperor said.
Bemish sat completely dismayed. He was close to bursting into tears.
Shavash smiling impudently pulled the folder out of his hand and handed it
to the sovereign. The sovereign took an ancient quill dusted with gold
powder and signed the complaint. Then, he took the seal, showing a dragon
catching its tail, off his neck, pressed the seal to a pad saturated with
incensed phoenix's blood ink and stamped it on the paper. He handed the
sheet over to Bemish and said.
"Accept my congratulations, Mr. Bemish - I relieved Mr. Shavash from
the company director position and appointed you at this post."
"But sovereign," Shavash exclaimed with indignation. The sovereign spun
and his embroidered sleeves cuffed Bemish in the face.
"Be silent, vice-minister. I do not need foreign experts to tell me who
is the scoundrel - you or the Earthman! And if you dare show your tape even
to a frog in a road ditch, you will lose more than Assalah!"
Bemish picked the paper sheet with a lifeless hand, glanced at it and
noticed with astonishment that the order was dated with yesterday's date.
The papers asserted that Shavash had been fired before he signed the
contract with IC.
Pale with spite, Shavash silently stood up and left the room.
"Could you, kindly, leave me, gentlemen," the sovereign said smiling
sadly. "You tired me out. Kissur, visit me tomorrow morning."
X X X
Bemish was too shocked to think coherently. Having departed the
pavilion, he dragged himself to a rocky pond, where white-bellied seals
splashed, and slumped on a flower hill, probably breaking all the etiquette
rules. The question was - what should he do next? Next, Terence Bemish, the
Assalah state company director, will sell this company to Terence Bemish,
the ADO director. Dammit, Assalah has to be sold to ADO so that
intergalactic, instead of Weian, securities land on the market... What will
the business ethics committee say? Having watching the tape... A shadow
stood above his shoulder and Kissur slumped on the grass nearby.
"It's very clear," Kissur said, "that you haven't smelled shit. They
used to say that I had fish scales on my sides and my ears grew together at
the back of my head - big deal, a spliced tape."
"He was ready to submit the tape to any examination," Bemish said. "He
was not bluffing. Do you understand what it means? Where did he get the
hardware to bake a forgery that can withstand any examination? Do you
understand that this hardware was not acquired for a single usage, that this
hardware was not acquired for me, it was acquired for you, for Yanik, for
the other local officials..."
"Well," Kissur said, "we need to wash this deal down. Let's go to a
pub."
And they went to a pub.
X X X
It was dark when they left the pub, and large constellation bundles
shone in the sky faded like an old watercolor, so alien to Bemish, and a man
in a summer silk suit and white jacket dallied leaning on a long car shaped
like a water droplet.
"I will give Mr. Bemish a ride," the silky man said. He raised his head
and Bemish recognized the small official.
They sat silently on the back seat. The car started. Shavash dug a fat
package from under his feet and handed it over to Bemish.
"What is it?" Bemish said.
"This is the company documentation. You have seen most of it, new
director. This is the original tape; you can throw it in a brazier tonight."
And the small official handed the laser disk box to Bemish.
"Are you sure that it's really documentation," Bemish inquired, "and
not a remotely controlled bomb, two hundred thousand in Gera currency or a
drug load I will be arrested tonight for possession?"
The small official was silent.
"Damn you," Bemish said, "if, perchance, your Emperor had woken up in a
different mood today, I could have been hanged for real. I should hate you
for your tricks."
"And I should hate you."
"Me?"
"All of you, Earthmen."
"Why? What have we done to you?"
"What? Do you know what it means to be an official of the Empire that
owns the world, and suddenly this Empire appears to be a pebble on a beach,
crummy and penniless as well?"
"We, at least, left you free," Bemish noted, "but would you, Mr.
Shavash, like this country to be occupied by another empire and you being
turned into a slave who rubs his owner's back?"
"That's exactly right. You left us free. If I became a slave and rubbed
my owner's back, I would be a headman there in two years and I would be
manumitted and appointed to a minister position in two more years. But you
left us free and I can become the first minister on Weia with no problem
but, you have to agree, that even if I emigrate - what is the chance of me
becoming a Federation Assembly member?"
Bemish gaped. He had not met yet such an interpretation of the
fatherland independence concept. They drove in silence.
Parting with Bemish at the hotel cabin gate, Shavash suddenly grinned.
"You have a guest, don't you? I will not hinder your meeting."
Indeed, a white like goose down Volvo dallied next to trimmed bushes
and a man with a colorless face dressed in a cream colored suit - Richard
Giles - walked back and forth the terrace. Bemish drew himself together.
"Good day," Giles rendered, "I have been waiting for you for three
hours."
"Why did you come around?"
"I came," Giles said smiling, "to offer you a job in our company."
"Why is that?"
"Why not? We have a history of several projects that were carried out
quite successfully..."
"You are nuts," Bemish said, "three blown soap bubbles in countries
kicked out of UN..."
"Oh-oh," Giles interrupted him, "Nika and Sadun have joined UN a while
ago and the Lakhar situation has started to improve recently..."
"But at the time you were there, they were not UN members yet."
"Exactly," Giles said. "When we came here, they had nutcase governments
in charge. That's why I am saying, 'successfully carried out projects', in
spite of their evident financial bust."
"What do you do?"
Giles silently pulled a plastic card out of his pocket and handed it to
Bemish. It was an ID of a senior Federal Intelligence and
Counterintelligence Bureau officer.
"I can't believe it," Bemish said. "I had no clue that our spies made
billions on fake stocks. And afterwards they collect taxes from us for
democracy development!"
"Yes," Giles agreed. "We usually offer not exactly reputable financial
projects to our partners in the government of the country that makes us
nervous. And these officials, having pocketed several millions, find out
that if they want to have more millions and not to have a scandal, they
should push certain political decisions through."
"Why does this country make you nervous?"
"Weia? This country doesn't make anybody nervous. This country, Mr.
Bemish, is now located in the Galaxy backyard and it will be there for
another two hundred years... Whatever political adventures happen here, they
will not cause problems for anybody except the Weians themselves. It's Gera
that makes us nervous."
"Gera?"
"Yeah. Weia is located halfway between Gera and the Federation planets.
It is a strategically important Galaxy location - an ideal base for the
defense forces - and if it gets to a war between Gera and the Federation, it
would be better if..."
"If the war happened around a corrupted planet in the Galaxy's
backyard," Bemish completed.
Giles nodded.
"And how are you going to transform a financial gamble in a military
base?"
"Like a charm. We buy the company, we build as many bases as we can, we
do the construction behind barbed wire, we do not publish financial reports
and we arrange a leak claiming that the barbed wire is caused by the total
absence of any construction. The company's shares plummet; the defense
committee buys all the securities and announces that it has a military base
for a scrap of the price. "
"Are you serious?"
"Come on! You can build a business center on this planet calling it a
garbage processing facility. You can make narcotics using tax breaks
reserved for the production of medical drugs! A military spaceport instead
of a civil one - is nothing by local standards!"
"Why are you telling me this?"
"You upset our plans and became the company director. Now you are going
to build the base."
"Will you leave on your own," Bemish inquired, "or should I throw you
over the rails?"
"Don't you want to help your own country?"
"You are out of your mind," Bemish said. "You wanted to drown me in
shit! You made this mucky tape - now I understand why Shavash assured us it
would withstand any examination - and when they sent you to hell, you have a
gall to come to me with this talk."
"That's your personal aggravation. What about the good of the country?"
"The good of the country!" the raider exploded. "The good of the
country is when the state doesn't stick its nose in corporate business! I
guarantee you that, in half an hour, I will find in your project five
incorrect decisions and ten less-than-optimal ones! I haven't seen a state
project that was less than three times pricier than a private one! Why?
Because, the more expensive the project is, the more important the official
in charge of it feels! You can't save a penny and here you are, discussing
the good of the country. Save money on this construction and this will be
for the good of the country!"
"Is that all?" Giles queried.
"No, that's not all! This is only economics. As for the rest, what you
call "preventive actions" is what actually starts wars. You say, "We don't
want to fight but we should be able to defend ourselves!" Gerans say, "We
don't want to fight but they built a military base right under our nose!"
Before five years pass, both sides will be armed to their teeth, the taxes
that you collected from me will turn to vapor, and you'll raise your hands
on TV screens and catechize, "The Gerans wouldn't be so impudent if we
invested five billion more in defense!" And the citizens squawk and give you
five more billion!"
Having heard this, Giles, instead of leaving, sat in a low armchair,
trimmed to the floor with feathers, leaned all the way back and asked.
"So, do you think that there is no difference between the democracy
officials and the Weian ones?"
"There is a difference," Bemish said. "Here, the state is set up in
such a way that the officials' pickings go directly to their pockets.
Democracy doesn't give you this opportunity. You, however, have an
opportunity to push through the projects that will require tripling the
taxes I pay but will also enlarge your departments and demonstrate your
importance. If you simply embezzled, it would cause less harm."
"So, you won't work on our project."
"No. If Gera is dangerous, try to push this project through congress."
"One month before your arrival," Giles said imperturbably, "I talked to
Mr. Shavash. I found out that we could pay the state a billion and a half,
get the permit and build the military base ourselves. We could also pay the
state a billion and a half, get the permit and build the civil spaceport. We
could also pay seven million not to the state but rather to Shavash, and
then the state will take care of the above mentioned construction. A dummy
front company would get the spaceport, both sides would share the expenses
and, if the reporters on Gera or Earth ferreted out anything about the
construction, Earth would have nothing to do with it - see, the Weian
officials, known for their ingrained tendency to cheat their own people,
started quietly to make a military base out of a civil spaceport."
"Shavash doesn't believe his motherland is worth much," Bemish
muttered.
"It's even cheaper than you think. Since we found out that if we openly
start building the military base, the Weian people and the sovereign may
have issues with it. They may say for instance that we are clandestinely
occupying the country. Or that we are making Weia a pawn in a big game - if
the war with Gera starts, Weia will be attacked first as the closest to Gera
Federation military base. If however Weia was in charge of the spaceport
construction, all these issues would not arise."
"And did you," Bemish uttered through his teeth, "decide to save
money?"
"It's not the question of saving money. As you acutely remarked, the
state unlike private companies doesn't really care about savings. But you
know perfectly well that while the President has minority in the Assembly,
we will never obtain funding for one more military base - that's one
problem. All the peace lovers, free ones and the ones on Gera payroll, will
raise their hands with banners to the sky and take it to the streets to get
on the evening news - that's the second problem. The base is twice more
important if it's kept under wraps - that's the third problem."
Bemish was silent. Somehow the whole thing seemed especially
disgusting. Yes, everybody around traded in the sovereign's name, but, in
the end, it was the private agents and companies that gave bribes on Weia.
But, for a bribe and such a huge bribe to be given by the Federation of
Nineteen... Has it happened because parliament wouldn't approve of this
project?
"Out of this money," Giles said, "one half has already been paid and
quite a number of classified documents are in Shavash's hands. If Shavash
doesn't get the second half, to squeeze some profit he will find a way to
sell the papers to Gera. It won't hurt Shavash - such deeds are considered
to be valiant on Weia - but what a scandal will burst in the Federation."
Bemish could easily imagine this, jumbo titles everywhere.
"Bribes instead of bread!", "A little bit of war", "We are controlled
by the Intelligence Service."
"Shavash," Bemish said, "will not get what he deserves, because he is
an Empire official, and you will get everything you deserve because you are
democracy officials. If you have to build a base, you should be able to
explain it to the people. If you can't explain it to the people, than you
are lying about the construction being necessary. If the President considers
that he can't make certain things public but he has to do them, he should
change his occupation immediately. Why didn't you raise the question about
the base in public?"
"Because everybody thinks the way you do," Giles shrugged his
shoulders.
"Because nobody looks beyond his personal profit and, once the
government endeavors to do something about the common good, they all get
nervous about raising the taxes! Because thanks to the idiots like you,
Gera, while lagging great distance behind us economically, has already
surpassed us militarily."
"Get out."
"Not before we shake hands on it," the spy said, lying in the armchair.
The next moment, Bemish jerked him out of the armchair with one hand
and socked him on the jaw with all his heart. The punch was strong enough
for the Federation agent to flip over the armchair and to the floor. He
however somersaulted over his head, bounced softly in a fighting stance and
hissed.
"You are Geran slut."
Thence Giles attempted to land a right hand punch on Bemish's temple.
He shouldn't have done it. The bungling spy's hand was blocked and twisted
and Giles squeaked piteously and dropped on his knees facing away from
Bemish. He couldn't move - his hand would break.
"Your training isn't any good," Bemish commented, "if a financier can
wipe your mug!"
"I will wipe your mug; I will jail you for illegal parking for five
years... Ouch..."
At this moment, Kissur showed up on the terrace - behind their yells,
Bemish and Giles didn't even hear the rustle that the car made entering the
gate. Bemish freed the spy's wrist. Giles hissed something through his
teeth, picked the folder off the table, locked it in his black case and
said.
"I am sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow noon as agreed,
Mr. Bemish."
"Did I get in your way?" Kissur inquired, looking over the recent
discussion participants with curiosity.
"Not at all," Giles said, "sorry, I am in hurry. I will not take your
time, Mr. Kissur."
He fixed the collar torn by Bemish and disappeared. The next moment, a
flyer whistled taking off in the backyard.
Bemish was chewing on his lips and tapping on a twined rail pole.
"Where have I seen his mug?" Kissur said. "Oh, yes, he was also at the
sovereign's. This is the jerk that bribed Shavash so that nobody except his
company could get the spaceport concession. IC. Yes, IC Company. What did he
want?"
Bemish paused.
"He let me know that the contract will be sabotaged. You know, the
workers will go on a strike, the officials will support the workers..."
"You don't have to tell me," Kissur said. "I know how it happens. I was
the first minister myself. What are you gonna do now?"
At this point, an idea came to Bemish's mind, simple and evident like a
soft beverage commercial. "I'll leave. I'll drop it all and leave. If
somebody has to be a bastard, at least, it won't be me. Let it be the day of
farewell."
"Let's go riding," Bemish said. They trotted for a while down yellow
roads amidst blue fields and they tied the horses afterwards and had a bare
knuckle fistfight and swam in a pond, round and green like a bottle bottom.
Bemish rode back, tired and reticent, looking at the road, with the
palm trees planted along it, and a fair spread beneath the white wall of a
capital suburb. The day was hot, the clouds boiled away, the sun bubbled
like an egg yolk on a frying pan. Kissur kept glancing at his friend.
Somebody really upset the Earthman. They had let him know that they would
foul the contract up. Well, construction is different from a duel. You can
go to a duel uncaring whether you win or die. You can't work on
construction, understanding that you will not obtain any profit. He will
leave. It's too bad. Kissur suddenly realized that he became attached to
this man. He lied much less than the local officials and he had some honesty
inside in spite of his occupation that didn't encourage honor.
"What was this parking thing that Giles was going to jail you for?"
Kissur asked suddenly.
"It's not here. It's on Earth," Bemish replied mechanically.
"No way!" Kissur was astonished. "Where did you park your auto to get
five years in prison? Did you drive on the Federation Assembly roof?"
Bemish wanted to explain that it wasn't about parking but Kissur
continued.
"What kind of laws are you guys making? They fine their citizens for
spitting on the streets and allow Gera more than we allow our bandits!
Though we, I have to admit, allow our bandits a lot."
"What has Gera got to do with this?" Bemish exclaimed in anger.
"Well, while you feed the homeless and make laws that protect green
parrot species from getting extinct, they finance military programs and they
will conquer you in five years! Even a donkey would get that, so I can."
"They won't conquer us," Bemish objected, "we are more powerful."
"You are not more powerful," Kissur said, "you are richer. The history
has it that the rich, but lacking in spirit, countries get conquered by the
poor and warlike countries. See, wealth makes a country stuffed and lazy
like a fat ram while poverty makes it sinewy and greedy like a wolf."
"In this case, Gera will conquer you first - you are weaker."
"Why would they conquer us? Nobody needs us even free of charge. Wolves
feed on sheep, not on northern moss."
Bemish puffed up and kept silence. It was nonsense. Barbarians have
indeed gobbled empires up because their citizens were lazier than the
barbarians while barbarian weapons were not any worse. While Gera - damn it,
Gera's weapons may be the same... Still, the analogy is stupid. History
doesn't gallop in a circle anymore. It's funny that the Federation
Intelligence thinks along the same lines as an educated barbarian...
They parted by midnight and Kissur returned to his palace. He sat in a
hall for a long while and, then, he called a servant to arrange a
sacrificial basket and walked to a small room, adjoining his bedroom, where
an Arfarra memorial altar stood. In front of the altar, a candle burned
fixed atop a tortoise shield and a fresh pi