eetish smoke was
rising out of the silver corollas of the braziers. The gold peacocks, cast
during Empress Cassia's rule, stood on the both sides of the forbidden door
and gawked at the Earthman with bewilderment and condemnation. The Emperor,
confused and pale, sat in an armchair. Dressed up Shavash faced the Emperor
expressionlessly and the first minister Yanik stood to the right. He was
devouring Shavash with his eyes.
"How do you do, Mr. Bemish?" the Emperor said.
Bemish felt himself blushing as if he were a boy caught in a
supermarket while stealing a chocolate bar and not the man responsible for
the largest military scandal of the century.
The sovereign paused and added, "It's not my place to judge but,
really, should the Emperor of the Country of Great Light find what you do to
my country out of newspapers?"
Precisely at that moment, the doors of the golden peacocks moved apart
and another character - Giles - walked in.
Bemish turned to him and said vengefully, "Well, what have I told you?
We got it."
"I am very upset, Mr. Bemish," sovereign Varnazd continued, "I
considered you to be an honest man. I am always wrong about people."
"Bemish has nothing to do with it," Giles said, "Our company was
supposed to get the license. It took us a while to persuade Mr. Bemish so
that he agreed to build it our way."
"And how much has it cost you for Mr. Bemish to agree?" the Emperor
smiled.
Bemish became as red as the apples on the tapestry behind the Emperor
and said, "It cost them nothing. I thought that if I had to screw around, I
would at least do it for free."
"Just a moment," Giles was astonished, "What do you mean, "for free?"
You received..."
Bemish turned and started walking towards Giles.
"Son of a bitch," he hissed. At that point, Shavash spoke in calm
voice, "This is my fault, Mr. Giles. I took some money from you to give to
Mr. Bemish but I spoke to him and he refused the money. So, I took it upon
myself to keep it."
Absurdly, Giles and Bemish burst out laughing.
"I swear by god's goiter," Yanik spoke through his clenched teeth
looking at the small official. But the Emperor didn't pay much attention to
Shavash's confession; he was probably used to these things. The first
minister started pompously, "They used to boil criminals in oil for selling
the country and to crucify them on gates! How can you justify yourself, Mr.
Shavash?"
"I," Shavash said, "don't see what I should justify. I signed a treaty
that transformed Weia from a pebble in the Galaxy's backyard into an ally of
the Federation of Nineteen and its potential member. The way the agreement
is defined makes it most profitable for the Weian people. Accordingly to the
treaty, three months ago we obtained a seven billion dinar credit that the
first minister had conducted unsuccessful negotiations for. I made the most
profitable deal for Weia in the last seven years and I made the Earthmen pay
for it with a seven billion credit!"
"Well," the Emperor hesitated, "if it is indeed the case..."
"But how will this man justify his actions?" Shavash continued, "He
lost his way among his bribes and he is completely incapable of performing
his duties. He is ready to destroy the Empire just to destroy me with it.
How will this man justify his actions when he delivered the information
concerning a classified agreement to the newspapers of the heretics? How
will you justify it, first minister?"
Yanik went gray in the face.
"It's not true," he muttered.
"Nonsense! I will prove that it's true and I will demonstrate how you,
instead of notifying the Emperor, preferred to let the heretics know about
everything!"
"Come here, Mr. Yanik," the Emperor said.
The old minister made one hesitating step forward, than another one.
"Is it correct? Who gave the information to Blue Sun?"
The official paled and his hands started shaking.
"Tell me the truth..."
"I... I...," the old man muttered, "It's the military consul of Gera...
I didn't take any actions against it, but... Unfortunately, I don't know
what to do..."
"Resign," the Emperor said. The old official desperately threw up his
hands. Shavash banged his fist on a brazier.
"Who cares about Gera?" he cried out, "We are now Earth's ally. We
should admit that Bemish's company will obtain a military commission from
us! We should admit that the Empire has finally drawn a lucky number after
seven years of suffering!"
The Emperor faced Shavash with a sick smile.
"Should we appoint you to the first minister position?"
"Yes," Shavash said, "it will confirm that we made a military agreement
with Earth and that we will not turn away."
"If Mr. Shavash becomes the first minister," Giles reached out, "Earth
will consider it to be a... favorable omen. It would mean that the
government's position is firm. We are ready to consider a new loan."
"Sovereign," Shavash said," I haven't taken a single bribe that was not
beneficial for our people but you can't have a first minister who betrays
his country and his Emperor in order to get even with his personal enemy!"
The Emperor was quiet. Everybody stood motionless. The golden peacocks
stretched their necks listening to the silence. The brazier smoke quietly
danced atop a sun ray. When the Emperor spoke, it seemed to Bemish that gods
on the skies and demons in the underground went still listening to him.
"You are right, Mr. Shavash. It would make sense to appoint you as a
first minister. Unfortunately, I can't do it."
"Why?" Shavash asked.
The Emperor raised his grey eyes at the official.
"I can't do it because you are a scoundrel, Shavash."
The official was taken aback. In another place, he would probably make
a standard repartee that he had never heard that scoundrels couldn't be
first ministers and he would generally comment in detail about this most
childish argument. Here, he suddenly closed his mouth and blinked like a
gosling.
"I will not appoint you as a first minister, Shavash, while I am
alive," the Emperor continued quietly. "You are a scoundrel. When you
appoint a scoundrel to such a position, in the end he always causes more
harm that good for the country."
He paused and raised his eyes at Bemish.
"Great Wei, what should I do? What would you, Terence, do at my place?"
"I had an honor to present my opinion to you," Bemish answered, "And my
opinion was that first ministers should not be appointed by a sovereign, but
rather be appointed by the people via their duly elected representatives."
The sovereign laughed nervously. Then he guffawed out loud.
"You are right, Terence," he spoke, "You are right! I will gather
your... representatives. Let them decide themselves who is gonna be the
minister! And let Mr. Shavash prove them that he acted for the people's
good, let's see if my people are as stupid as I am!"
The Emperor rose and rushed into the inner halls. Giles and Shavash
hurried after him but the guards didn't let them through. Bemish turned
around, tripped over a golden peacock and bolted downstairs. Halfway down,
he almost collided with Kissur who was ascending quickly.
"Kissur," Bemish said desperately, "You know that they forced me to do
it."
Kissur just waved his hand.
"How is the sovereign?" he asked.
"He fired Yanik."
"Great Wei! Who is the first minister?! Shavash?!"
"Nobody," Bemish said, "The sovereign promised to announce elections to
the Parliament."
Kissur's face contorted.
"You suggested this to him, didn't you?"
"You know my views."
"I know your views. You don't give a damn about this country. You think
that democracy will raise the stock quotes of your blasted companies!"
"Time spent with me was beneficial for you, Kissur. How long ago was it
when your understanding of stocks equaled my understanding of horses?"
Kissur threw himself down on a stair and squashed Bemish's foot. He sat
there for a while and then he stood up.
"It's not a problem. I've hanged one fully assembled parliament already
and I will hang another one. Take this into account when you plan your
investments."
And he ran up jumping over three stairs at a time - however, they were
quite low.
Still airborne on his way to Assalah, Bemish spent an hour giving
orders to buy the stocks of Weian companies, to buy as many of them as
possible and to keep low profile while doing it.
In an hour, having finished all his calls, Bemish extracted a sheet of
paper and started drawing a diagram illustrating his company's refinancing
scheme. High yield Assalah bonds currently paid off at fourteen percent a
month. Parliament elections and the subsequent rise of the country's rating
would increase the bonds' value. Accordingly to Bemish's calculations, they
should cost a hundred and three to a hundred and four cents for a dinar in
two to three months. Even now they reached a hundred and one point one cents
for a dinar - under these conditions even a bond bought at the price above
its face value still brought thirteen percent. Accordingly to the IPO's
conditions, rise (and fall) of the bonds' value caused the interest rates to
adjust so that the bonds would cost hundred cents per dinar. New Assalah
bonds, Bemish calculated, should make eleven to twelve percent.
A phone call interrupted his calculations.
"I have news about Inis," over the receiver he heard Giles' cold voice.
"Finally. Where is she?"
"You should better come to the villa."
In half an hour Bemish stood in a far corner of his luxurious garden,
next to a carved gazebo entwined with ivy. He stood near an ornamental well
that was a necessary feature - together with a hermit's hut and tame deer -
of a country manor. Nobody used it for the original purpose since running
water available was available. But tame beasts started behaving strange next
to the well and three hours ago a meticulous gardener had taken a look into
it in case something was wrong.
Bemish stood and watched two security service guys, clad in tight
rubber and leather, pulling a white swollen body over the well's edge. Far
away in the sky among the stars, danced blue and yellow lights of the rising
ships and a bold nightingale in a neighboring bush was singing a song
accompanied by a chorus of night cicadas.
"Do you know what Blue Sun will publish tomorrow?" Giles moved nearby.
"It will write that a foreign vampire killed his lover and hid her body in
an abandoned well.
Bemish turned and Giles saw with horror that the businessman's grey
eyes were as empty as a safe that robbers had broken into. Then, the general
director of Assalah Company swayed and, unconscious, slowly collapsed in
Giles's hands.
The Thirteenth Chapter
Where the nation expresses its will with unpredictable results.
Two months passed by. Preparations for the elections were at their
peak. Throughout the whole country, the officials had their precinct gates
wide open and fed their future electorate with, square like Weia, rice pies
and with, round like the sky, wheat pies. Throughout the whole country,
zealots performed shows about iron people. Throughout the whole country,
entrepreneurs and traders made donations to the officials' election
campaigns instead of bribing them.
Bemish spent this time flying around the Galaxy. The people closest to
him knew that he was horribly upset about Inis' death. The Earthman hadn't
stepped out of his bedroom for the first two days and, then, he threw
himself into his business like a fish dives into the ocean with an evident
and almost hysterical desire to drive the recent events out of his mind.
Various suggestions were made about the murderer's identity, including
the ex-first minister Yanik and the Following the Way; a number of people
suspected them to be connected. Mr. Yanik, alike the zealots, didn't approve
of the Empire being bought by the people from the stars. He wholeheartedly
wanted his friends to buy the Empire but, unfortunately, the people from the
stars had more money.
Shavash was also mentioned quite often; people said that the vengeful
official had killed Ashinik in retaliation for the old assassination attempt
and that he had killed the woman because once Bemish hadn't shared her with
him and also to mislead the investigation. They said that the Earthman
grieved so much because he knew who the man behind the murder was but he
could avenge it only by destroying his business in the process. Frankly, the
comments hit reasonably close to the truth.
Another rumor was also popular - the Earthman had knifed the woman to
demonstrate his grief and to alleviate the suspicions about his love for
another woman - they mentioned Idari quite loudly.
They searched for Ashinik very thoroughly, sometimes suspecting him of
his wife's murder and sometimes thinking that he had been killed together
with his wife as a traitor. But Ashinik disappeared without a trace. They,
however, found the man who had handed the papers about the spaceport's
military future to the zealots. It was the marxist technician who had
arrived with Ashidan at Kissur's villa and spied on the spaceport later.
Bemish went to see what was what left of this man. The next day, during
negotiations in Los Angeles Bemish would catch himself thinking occasionally
about possible reactions of his polite colleague in tortoise glasses if this
colleague knew that six hours ago the respectable director of Assalah
Company had cold-bloodedly observed how an alive man had his flesh cut off
him bit after bit and how this man screamed at the top of his lungs that he
knew nothing, absolutely nothing about Inis.
X X X
Having traveled for a month, Bemish returned to Weia. He had
practically finished the negotiations concerning BOAR. At the spaceport, he
ran into a flock of journalists who arrived to monitor the fairness of the
election preparations. One of the journalists asked him, "What do you
estimate Yadan's chances to win the elections are?"
Three hours before Bemish's arrival, the leader of the White Sect, a
mortal foe of the Earthmen and, therefore a mortal foe of all their
inventions such as democracy, credit cards and pizza, had declared that he
would participate in the elections.
"What are Yadan's chances?" Bemish was astonished.
"He is a madman who believes that Earthmen are demons. He looks at my
spaceport and says that I built a hole to hell. He says that he climbs a
ladder to the sky every morning and there are no Earthmen here. It means
that all our ships and equipment are phantoms and our spaceports are holes
leading underground. He also says that he was born out of a golden egg."
The journalist grinned and asked, "Why, in this case, does Ashinik
follow Yadan in the party's hierarchy? He was a vice-president in your
company and he seems to have worked under the billionaire Ronald Trevis.
Does he also think that the spaceport is a hole leading underground?"
Bemish froze. Ashinik is alive! The journalist pursed his lips and
said, "Aren't you ashamed to repeat the rumors spread by corrupted officials
to discredit the people's leaders?"
The next day, Bemish read an article about Weia in an influential and,
therefore, liberal newspaper Standard Times. The article was written by the
abovementioned journalist. The article presented the election company on
Weia as the fight between the corrupted officials and the true democratic
representatives of the people. Yadan was the true democratic representative
of the people. The corrupted officials and certain Earthmen who had reaped
off a lot of money robbing Weia tried all they could to smear the people's
leader.
An interview with Yadan followed the article. The journalist asked
Yadan, "Is it true that you consider Earthmen to be demons?"
"I don't know where this crazy rumor came from. You see, Mr. Bemish
doesn't speak Weian very well. You sometimes say "Go to hell" and we say
"You are a demon, go home." It could be that one of my friends swore at
Bemish and he, not really understanding our culture, took this expression
literally. I can give you another example. Some Earthmen started a rumor
that Following the Way claimed that their leader had been born out of a
golden egg. But it's just a metaphorical expression. "To be born out of a
golden egg" is equivalent to your expression "to be born with a silver spoon
in your mouth."
Having finished the article, Bemish ordered Ashinik to be delivered to
him. It appeared to be a difficult task. Even though Ashinik was no longer
in hiding, he appeared everywhere accompanied by a triple layer of
bodyguards. Bemish had to limit himself to the zealot's satellite phone
number which was known only to a dozen people. He called him and screamed at
him in perfect Weian, "I don't really speak Weian, do I? Was it your
invention, Ashinik, to use Earth media to strengthen the sect's position?
Was it your idea to persuade a passerby pen pusher that he knew the
subtleties of local culture better than the Assalah Company director?"
"Ai-tana khari (Demon, go home)," Ashinik replied sarcastically and he
dropped the receiver.
Bemish was pissed off to such a degree that he gave an order to fire
Ashinik. The latter had still been formally a member of the Board of
Directors.
Together with the majority of the Earthmen living and working in the
Empire Bemish found himself facing a strange problem. On one hand, the local
Earthmen understood perfectly well - better than the local officials - what
exactly the so-called party of the people's freedom, led by co-chairmen
Yadan and Ashinik, was about. It would not be difficult to start a large
scale media campaign against these people. But such a campaign would crash
the Weian stock market because nothing is as easy to scare away as money. At
the same time, this campaign would not hurt the zealots since they didn't
give a damn about demons' newspapers anyway.
The local Earthmen took a counsel and came to the conclusion that there
was no chance these halfwits would win the election. So, let the liberal
newspapers idolize the new heroes. Why should they bother exposing them? It
would only be bad publicity for the new IPOs.
As the elections were approaching, the fund index grew like bamboo,
since fund indexes in developing countries always grow before the elections.
To scream about the party of the people's freedom under these conditions
meant killing your own profit. A considerable part of the paper and
speculation profits, obtained by the Earthmen financiers and manufacturers,
was donated to Shavash's election campaign. They and their wallets just
loved this future country's leader. Their enthusiasm for donations was based
on the solid and persuading results of the sociological studies predicting
Shavash's victory.
What the financiers didn't know was that these studies were paid for by
Shavash. It is much easier to buy two hundred sociologists than to buy fifty
million of voters.
The elections caused certain problems, however, to Assalah Company.
Ashinik occasionally appeared on the pages of the Galaxy newspapers. While
his general comments towards Earthmen were restrained, he used Terence
Bemish as an example to explain the peculiarities of the corruption in the
Empire. Mostly, he commented on the abuses of Assalah customs and unabashed
insider trading in Bemish's funds.
It wasn't particularly beneficial for the company's quotes and their
growth lagged noticeably behind the general fund index.
But the worst for Bemish was that, due to the elections, Kissur and
Shavash - two people that meant a lot for the planet and quite a bit for
Bemish personally - quarreled. Their breach started almost unnoticeably, at
the moment when Kissur declared openly that he was against all the
elections. Shavash had opposite views. When the sovereign declared in
Shavash's face that he would never appoint him as a first minister, Shavash
realized that he would be able to become a first minister only by people's
volition.
Practically immediately, in a great hurry, Shavash channeled all his
power and money into a huge political campaign and into the creation of his
own party. Shavash's methods were as primordial as they were effective. The
doors to the vice-prefect's manor stood wide open for the poor - they could
get there free soup and pies day and night.
The minimal wage law was under consideration at that time. The first
minister Yanik insisted on a fifty isheviks minimal wage while Shavash
suggested eighty. Yanik won. Then, the vice-prefect Shavash declared that he
would pay the difference to the workers in the capital drawing a salary of
less than eighty isheviks.
Two assassination attempts were made at Shavash's life. It's hard to
say whether or not they were real but Shavash clearly gained from them. He
became the only man opposing the zealots for both foreign investors and
well-intentioned people.
While Kissur and Shavash could live in peace at the Emperor's court,
the fallout between became inevitable once the latter emerged as the head of
Weian Democratic Alliance party since the former considered democracy to be
an ultimate stupidity that Weia needed just as much as somebody would need a
fur hat amidst a hot summer.
The final quarrel happened at a party in one of Shavash's country
houses. Bemish attended it - he needed to meet some officials from Chakhar
and hand a check for the election campaign to Shavash.
They were all drunk; Kissur was somewhat more sober while Shavash was
boozed up completely. Shavash reclined on a sofa with one of his slaves
sitting on his knees. The slave was a cute fourteen-year-old boy and nobody
had any doubts about the precise nature of his relationship with Shavash.
The boy was kissing his master's fingers and picking bits off his plate and
finally the time arrived when the future prime minister, the light and hope
of the people, the enemy of inflation and the paragon of virtue started
walking towards an exit pushing the boy in front of him and looking horny.
Two or three supplicants had been circling around Shavash hoping to discuss
some important matters; they jumped out of his way not willing to distract
the vice minister away from his modest boy. At that point, Kissur appeared
in front of Shavash.
"Shavash," an Empire's ex-first minister said, "are you really going to
Lannakh tomorrow?"
A meeting of three provinces was taking place in Lannakh with feasts
for the chosen and pies for everybody.
"Yes."
"I beseech you not to go there."
Shavash smiled confounded.
"I can't, Kissur. The people are waiting for me there."
"I beseech you, Shavash, don't do it. I ask you in the name of our
friendship. It's not befitting for a Weian official to ape these stupid
Earthmen and to take part in the elections."
Shavash giggled drunkenly.
"Is it your personal request?"
"No, I speak on the other's behalf."
Kissur didn't say "other person's". He never called the Emperor Varnazd
a man. The Emperor was always a god in his eyes.
"Is he, in whose name you speak, afraid of me winning the elections?"
"You are not worthy of heading the country."
Everybody was listening to this dialog breathlessly; soon afterwards,
it was to acquire the most fantastic details added to it. Both Kissur and
Shavash were boozed up to the hilt and what a sober man has on his mind, a
drunkard has on his tongue...
Shavash laughed.
"What would you offer me instead, Kissur?"
"Anything you wish. You wanted Iman. (The sovereign gave to Kissur a
lot of land in the oil-rich areas of Iman). Would you like me to cut Yadan
down?"
Shavash giggled louder. He swayed and grabbed Kissur's shoulder to
avoid falling. Then, he missed a step and dropped on his knees. His lips
touched Kissur's hand.
"Kissur... Give me Idari and I won't participate in the elections."
Everybody froze not comprehending yet what was happening. Kissur was
the first one to react. His hands were next to Shavash's face, they suddenly
locked together on their own and Kissur hit Shavash with his locked hands in
the chin.
The vice minister sailed in a long arch through the air and landed with
his back on the banquet table. Sauces and appetizers flew to the sides and
priceless fifth dynasty china plates were smashed.
Kissur grabbed the object that was closest to him and it was a tall
five candle chandelier in the shape of a burning rose on a bronze rod and
rushed at Shavash roaring wildly. At this point, Bemish and Shavash's guards
tackled him and if it had not been for them, Kissur would have certainly
slaughtered the welcoming host. As it was, he had to limit himself to
killing one guard and leaving another one disabled.
X X X
The next day Bemish came to Kissur's manor to beg forgiveness. Green
with hangover, Kissur lay in a wide bed with a broken hand in a sling.
Bemish had broken this hand yesterday.
Kissur's brother, Ashidan, and Khanadar the Dried Date sat at Kissur's
feet and they weren't particularly welcoming towards Bemish.
"Son of a bitch," Kissur said out of his pillows. "I'll kill him
anyway."
He meant Shavash.
"You were drunk," Bemish objected, "You will still make peace."
Kissur laughed hoarsely.
"Don't be an idiot, Kissur! Shavash is just a horny goat. He almost
took Inis away from me! He sleeps with the wives of all his employees!"
"Exactly. He sleeps with everything that has a hole between its legs
whether this hole is in the front or in the back, he never leaves the pubs,
he drags his brat even to the negotiations with Galactic Bank and he dares
to ask me to give him my wife!"
X X X
The elections for the first Weian parliament took place on the fifth of
Shuyun, July, 17th by the interplanetary calendar. The
overwhelming majority of the electorate - 67.5% - voted for the party of the
people's freedom, the ex-sect Following the Way.
The same day, the sovereign declared the results invalid and issued
arrest warrants for Yadan and Ashinik, two best known leaders of the sect.
Yadan disappeared. Ashinik escaped to Earth. His arrival caused a huge
sensation in the liberal media. He was a charming twenty two year old young
man with perfect English, a year's working experience as a vice president in
a large trans galactic company and a one year college experience in an elite
business school. He totally didn't look like somebody accused by Weian
authorities of terrorism, manipulation of people's minds, mass hypnosis and
the literal understanding of the electoral campaign slogan "Earthmen are
demons."
Two days after his escape, Ashinik gave a long interview on the seventh
intergalactic TV channel. He explained all of the rumors attacking the party
of the people's freedom in a very simple way. The officials had decided to
run the elections hoping to obtain more power than they had before. When the
people's party won the elections, the results were declared invalid and a
huge incomparable libel campaign started against the party.
They asked Ashinik if his party was going to nationalize the foreign
companies' property if it came to power.
"No," Ashinik answered, "but we were going to make businessmen and
financiers of the Federation of Nineteen follow the Federation's laws."
As an example, Ashinik referred to Terence Bemish. Mr. Bemish had
created one of the largest industrial companies on Weia and Ashinik had
worked for him for a year. Terence Bemish bought eighteen million dollars
worth of Ichar non-ferrous metals facility stocks in an hour after his
friend Shavash had cleared this facility's sale to MetalUranium Company and
a day before the deal went public. Terence Bemish made thirty million.
Terence Bemish bought twenty million worth of gold loan bonds after
Shavash's close friend Oshin had announced that the payments on this loan's
interest would possibly be postponed; this announcement dropped the bonds'
prices by forty percent. Oshin was fired in a week, the bonds' value grew
back to the same level and Terence Bemish made sixteen millions. In a week,
Bemish hired Oshin as a manager of one of his funds.
"These actions resemble insider trading too much; they would cause
legal proceedings to happen anywhere else in the world," Ashinik claimed.
"Clearly, Terence Bemish has bought securities knowing that their value
would increase sharply. Persecution of these criminal activities doesn't
threaten the market. On the opposite, it would guarantee equal opportunity
for everyone. As for Assalah Company," Ashinik explained, "it hasn't only
provided ships with landing opportunities; it also has allowed the ship
owners to avoid paying import tariffs. A conveyor belt of export-import
companies was created at the spaceport with every company's life time being
two months. Accordingly to Weian regulations, a company should issue tax
reports every two months and, if it exists less than that, it just doesn't
pay any taxes. Of course, the local officials knew everything about it but
they were browbeaten or bought off. The companies were used for two
purposes. Mostly a successor company would fulfill its predecessor's
obligations in full but sometimes, if Bemish or Shavash needed to punish
somebody, the successor would not pay for the goods or, inversely, wouldn't
deliver prepaid merchandise. It was not difficult since most freight didn't
have accompanying documentation issued. That's why Assalah imports were
thirty percent cheaper than imports via any other spaceport."
"Does it mean," a journalist inquired, "that having gained power you
will collect all the tariffs in full?"
"No," the clever Havishem graduate answered, "quite the opposite, we
will lower tariffs. We are against protectionism and limiting foreign trade.
But I would like to stress that Yanik's government charged some companies
and didn't charge the others. This is not protectionism of domestic
industry. They favor some importers at the price paid by the others and this
is even worse than protectionism."
The journalist inquired how conscientiously Assalah paid its taxes and
Ashinik said that the year before last, Bemish had paid the taxes with the
bonds of bankrupted Weian National Bank. The trick was that Bemish had
bought the securities on Exchange at 7% of their face value while the state
budget accepted them at 100% of their face value.
The last year they started experimenting issuing tax promissory notes
on Weia. These promissory notes were securities based a company's debts to
the treasury. Everybody knew that Bemish wouldn't pay anything on these
promissory notes and they cost 3-4% of their face value. Bemish bought them
at this price via dummy fronts and he didn't have to pay the taxes this year
anymore. Bemish also acquired a lot of promissory notes of the companies
that he had some designs for and the state helped him to exchange the notes
into the stocks of these companies.
The Assalah securities didn't take this interview well - their price
plummeted by thirty points.
Bemish ordered his employees to compile and send to Earth a small
ethnographic report about the activities of Following the Way, so that the
TV audience could clearly understand that the political goals of the sect
were not limited to the removal of protectionism and insider trading in
stock market.
The next day, Ashinik made an official announcement that nuclear
weapons were stored in Assalah spaceport including Cassiopeia nuclear
missiles equipped with S-field that had been delivered there accordingly to
a secret treaty between the Empire and the Federation governments. The
proliferation of these missiles had been banned accordingly to the
S-armament non-proliferation treaty signed by the UN countries.
Bemish called this statement a horrible lie.
Ashinik demanded the spaceport to be inspected by the people.
Bemish announced that he would not allow a people's inspection because
a Weian peasant would not see any difference between a nuclear missile and a
landing stabilizer support and he, Bemish, didn't want somebody to throw an
explosive device in a landing chute during such an "inspection." All this
"people's inspection" was demagoguery anyway, why didn't experts just come
in and inspect whatever they want to?
Ashinik claimed that Earth experts would be bought by Bemish and the
Federation counter-intelligence.
Bemish announced that he didn't understand what a people's inspection
was.
Ashinik promised to explain to Bemish what a people's inspection was.
X X X
Two days later, the spaceport security service informed Bemish that a
crowd was moving towards the spaceport. Almost synchronously, two dozen
zealots, that had infiltrated the lounge before, descended to the storage
area to reclaim their luggage containing rocket launchers and other assorted
killing utensils.
The luggage had been X-rayed earlier and the zealots were arrested in
flagrant delicti. Bemish announced that it was an organized terrorist
activity and, if the people's inspection was going to happen along the same
lines, he wouldn't allow it. The zealots were taken to the capital and all
the confessions were beaten out of them quite quickly.
Bemish issued to order to guard the whole spaceport's perimeter closely
and to allow only ticket holders inside the port due to the emergency
situation. The next day, he showed to the journalists two bombs extracted
from an unknown man's luggage; the man arrived at the spaceport with a
ticket to the planet of Gera and left the spaceport in an unknown direction.
Ashinik claimed that Bemish had engineered the whole thing himself just
as he had with the zealots and rocket launchers. As for their "confession"
to the Weian police, Ashinik noted that Mr. Shavash could make an elephant
confess that it was a mouse in disguise. Ashinik claimed that the protests
were perfectly peaceful.
A huge crowd of zealots blocked the spaceport. The journalists from all
over the Galaxy flew to Assalah in search of prize news.
New people arrived at the roadblocks every day. They introduced
themselves to the journalists as "simple peasants that didn't like their
motherland being traded away for a jar of sour cream." Bemish, on the other
hand, claimed that they were not peasants but staunch zealots.
The traffic on the highway connecting Assalah to the capital was
completely paralyzed. Two monorails, Assalah - Sky City and Assalah -
I-Chakhar, were used for cargo transport. The blocked-off area in the
vicinity of the monorails was controlled by the satellites launched
specifically for this purpose; the satellites called alarm three times a day
and the trains had to be stopped; the cargo transportation schedule went to
hell.
Trucks traveled in groups accompanied by sharpshooters. Bemish
announced that the spaceport's administration would not take any
responsibility for the people's safety if they used passenger cars to get to
the capital. The car rental agencies went hysterical. The helicopter drivers
lived in the state of bliss. Three hundred taxi drivers that had been
temporarily hired by the spaceport security were ready to tear the zealots
apart.
The media approach shocked Bemish somewhat. They would interview an
ardent zealot - a professional agitator who had been bumming around fairs
since the age of five and who was lost in his own lies to such an extant
that he no longer knew whether or not Earthmen were demons. They would call
him a "Weian peasant who came to Assalah to fight for the freedom of the
elections and his country's freedom." On the other hand, a Weian taxi driver
whose car had been burned out two days ago by a zealot crowd was called "a
secret agent of security service bought by Bemish."
The spaceport sustained huge losses due to cargo being delayed and
frightened passengers hurriedly picking other travel routes. Twenty thousand
tons of gourmet Iniss peaches turned into peach chowder after spending five
hours in crazy summer heat in a monorail train with a disabled cooling
system. Ashinik called a bomb found on the monorail "a spaceport special
services' instigation."
Continuous magnetrone inspection of cargo damaged a Crudge-14A with
superconductive circuits traveling to the Iniss branch of Mountain TDL and
the corporation raised a horrible fuss about it.
The security service employees had all of their vacations cancelled.
They worked fourteen hours a day without holidays and slept right there,
crowding in the spaceport hotel rooms. Three hundred enraged taxi drivers
and long distance truck drivers joined the security service. Three hundred
highly professional colleagues of Giles' arrived quietly at the spaceport
and the journalists learned about their incognito arrival five minutes after
the space liner had landed.
Assalah stocks dropped five points a day on the average. Assalah
high-margin bonds were being sold twenty cents a dinar by the end of this
week.
However, Bemish's personal finances were in much better state than that
of the company. Bemish had realized that the zealots were sure to win before
the election's results were declared invalid and he ordered to sell quickly
practically everything that they traded with on Weian Exchange. Going short
brought at least forty million dinars to Weian Special and Second Investment
Fund but it was the first time in Terence Bemish's life when he was not
particularly happy to short.
Bemish requested governmental assistance with the protesters. The
government dallied and wavered and finally told him that while it was
sympathetic towards the Assalah issues but it was not willing to utilize
Weian police against Weian peasants to protect a foreign company that,
additionally, employed a right of "tax and trial" inside its territory.
Confidentially the government hinted that it was afraid to be kicked out of
power if tried to do anything along these lines.
X X X
Ronald Trevis arrived at Assalah on the third day. Three hours after
his arrival, a twenty person Ajax landed in the spaceport and suntanned
Kissur climbed out of it. Kissur hurried to Bemish's office where a
management meeting was taking place and he started shouting right at the
doorstep.
"What's this mess? Why don't you just shoot this muck? What are all
these rubber sticks doing here instead of rocket launchers?"
"If I shoot all this muck," Bemish said, "I will do what Ashinik dreams
about. It will bury the relationship between Weia and the Federation.
Ashinik will start screaming that foreigners at his planet shoot at
absolutely peaceful protestors. He will be somewhat correct about that. The
foreigners should not have a right to make such decisions."
"Why the hell did you ask for the right of "trial and taxes?"
"It was my mistake."
"I swear by the god's balls!" Kissur cursed. "Why don't you ask the
police minister for assistance?"
"I've asked him already. The government doesn't want to shoot its own
citizens for a foreign company's profit. If it does it, it will have to
shoot its own citizens to save its own ass tomorrow. Also, everybody knows
that an official, who gives such an order, will find a bomb in his first
Sunday soup even though Ashinik will assure that the bomb was planted by
provocateurs."
"All right," Kissur said and he slammed the door and took off.
X X X
Kissur returned in six hours, after dark. Eight skyers with large load
capacity landed at the spacefield and delivered about five hundred fighters
with blackened teeth wearing soft ox leather Alom boots. The fighters were
armed right up to their blackened teeth.
Two beetle-shaped amphibian tanks dropped out of the skyers' bellies;
the tanks were equipped with unusually short guns and they stuck upwards at
the rear resembling beetle's forewings folded at its back. The tanks were
covered with a non-metallic dully gleaming skin. Astonished, Giles whispered
into Bemish's ear that these were the latest generation BCC-29 tanks
designed to be dropped off a plane with a parachute onto any surface no less
than six minutes after a thermonuclear explosion.
Presenting his blackened teeth to flashing cameras, Kissur explained
that he came here to help his friend Bemish out and that his people couldn't
be taken for foreigners by any stretch of imagination and that only his
friend Bemish's squeals stopped him from burning this zealot muck one meter
deep into the ground.
He said that Bemish was a pansy, that the government was a flock of
horny dumb goats and that Ashinik was a dog that he, Kissur, would hang
right at that loading crane if they found one more bomb in the spaceport.
Kissur's people took over almost all spaceport security. A half of all
regular spaceport security employees went to sleep. Frankly, they were
mostly peaceful people who had never seen anything more dangerous than a
drug trafficker trying to hide hundred grams of barnithole or good old LSD
in his stomach; their familiarity with electric shockers was only
theoretical.
The passengers arriving at the spaceport glanced with frightened
admiration at the huge, almost two meter tall, wild looking men who
seemingly napped at the terminals having folded their hands on stubby
assault rifles. The ladies felt quite a specific curiosity towards these
lads, comparing them with their civilized husbands who contemplated morning
meetings even in bed.
The journalists waited breathlessly. It seemed absolutely certain that
any careless action of the crowd besieging the spaceport would lead to the
crowd's bloody demise.
It was five pm when Kissur entered Bemish's office; Ronald Trevis, the
head of LSV bank, had just arrived from Earth and he sat in the room
reclining in an armchair.
"Hello," Kissur said, "What are you doing here?"
"We are discussing the spaceport's future," Trevis replied.
"Oh, yes. These...eh stocks of yours plummeted."
"The spaceport's stocks," Trevis spoke, "belong to me, Bemish and Nan.
We are discussing the future of bonds."
"What's wrong with those?"
"They cost twenty cents a dinar."
"So what?"
"It would not be a problem if they were regular bonds. They are,
however, bonds with adjustable rate."
"What kind of beast is that?"
"It was my suggestion. The interest payments on the bonds are set up in
such a way that a bond's value is hundred cents for a dinar," Bemish entered
the conversation.
"I don't understand."
"The interest on the bonds is fourteen and a half percent," Bemish
said. "It's quite a bit. I hoped that I would be able to lower it. The
Assalah bonds cost hundred and three cents a dinar before the crisis. They
cost twenty cents now."
"It's crazy. I never knew about these clever securities."
"Unlike you, Ashinik knew it perfectly well," Bemish said, "I walked
him through our financial structure myself."
"Are you going to adjust yield?"
"No. There is not a single company that could handle it, even if it had
a large cash flow. Our cash flow dropped by thirty percent this month."
"What are you going to do?"
"I offered new securities to the investors instead of this crap."
"What did they do?"
"They sent me to hell. Ronald just delivered their responses."
"I see. Is this company bankrupt?"
Bemish didn't answer.
"If we flatten all this shit into the ground, will your bonds cost
more?"
"We should flatten this shit into the ground anyway," Trevis muttered,
"even if it doesn't save the company."
X X X
Later, they reconstructed the events the following way. At 18:00,
Kissur accompanied by Khanadar the Dried Date and by ten fighters walked
into the main office where all the upper company management had already
gathered; Trevis was also there with two aides. Bemish and Giles came in
slightly later. They were both armed. Bemish took a note that Kissur was
dressed very carefully - he wore a perfect white shirt, a proper black suit
and an unassuming tie of correct width - the clothing item that Kissur
loathed the most. On the other hand, a gun under Kissur's armpit was large
enough that even a perfectly designed suit failed to conceal it. Giles
slapped Kissur on the shoulder and said, "Damn it, Kissur! You are the man!
Without you we would be in shit up to our necks!"
"This way we will be in blood up to our necks," Bemish spoke quietly.
Giles spun.
"Be silent, Terence, when other people have to do your laundry." And he
turned back to Kissur.
"What are you going to do to the zealots?"
"What should I do to them to be accepted to the military academy?"
Giles was dumb-founded for a moment and then he answered, "Shoot them."
Bemish swallowed. He was certain that Kissur would agree to this
proposal. Doesn't he understand, however, that no public opinion would
tolerate him in the academy after such a bloodbath?
Kissur laughed out, slapped, in his turn, Giles on his shoulder and
declared, "Better late than never. You, Earthmen, get bold only when the
stocks of your companies plummet! Listen, Dick, let's exchange!"
And Kissur pulled his 9mm Star out of the gun holder and handed it over
to Giles handle first. The gun's barrel was in its original state while its
handle was covered by beautiful engraving over attached silver plates.
Giles hesitated for a moment, pulled his gun out and handled it over to
Kissur.
He took the gun, checked if it was loaded and declared loudly, "And
now, monkeys, stick your faces in the floor and your asses in the air! You
are under arrest!"
The fighters behind Kissur raised their assault rifles.
"Are you joking, Kissur?"
"It's not a joke, dog! Get down! Down!"
Giles was lost; he looked at the Star in his hands and pulled the
trigger. The gun only clicked - it was not loaded.
Several employees started slowly rising out of the table with the hands
up.
The next moment, Bemish whipped his gun out of the holder but, before
he was able to pull the trigger, fighter kicked the gun out of his hand with
his rifle's butt. Bemish turned and, with a dull thud, his fist collided
with the fighter's solar plexus. The latter moaned and sagged to the floor.
Two Alom fighters rushed at Giles. The security service head dropped
the useless gun and the guys started twisting his elbows back. Giles butted
one of them with his head in the stomach and threw the other one over. The
fighter dropped his rifle and Giles snatched the falling weapon. The next
moment a rifle burst sounded - Kissur was firing. One after another, heavy
bullets with zinc outer layer were making holes in the clothing and the body
of the security service chief. Giles swayed. His face showed astonishment.
He looked at his jacket stained with blood, muttered, "Why?" and crashed to
the floor letting the gun go.
Meanwhile, two more fighters rushed at Bemish. Having cried out, one of
them smashed into the table with his face. The papers prepared for the
meeting flittered and flew around the room like white geese. The other one
sailed ass forward into a flat, built in terminal, crashed to the floor and
stayed there. Bemish leaped over the table and charged at Kissur. A rifle
burst formed a series of holes in the floor in front of Bemish and he froze.
Kissur and the company director stood surrounded by the fighters.
"Don't be dumb, Terence," Kissur said, waving the gun, "Put your hands
behind your head or you will enter the other world together with Giles."
Bemish stood with his tie askew and his perfect shirt's collar torn.
The shirt had been absolutely fresh. Bemish took a shower half an hour ago
and changed it and he felt now how the cloth under his armpits and behind
his back was getting wet and sticky with his sweat.
"Raise your hands, Terence," Trevis muttered lying on the floor, "Don't
you see - they are nuts."
The next moment Bemish dove forward and his hand locked on Kissur's
wrist. In a moment the gun flew to the side and Kissur and Bemish rolled
over the floor in a tight embrace. The fighters didn't dare shoot - they
were afraid of hitting their master and they also believed that to kill one
of the enemies locked in personal combat was not cool.
Kissur's steel hands locked at his foe's neck. Bemish's ears rung, the
room's ceiling spun and started floating upwards. Bemish hit Kissur in the
groin with his knee. The latter hissed but didn't let go. Twisting, Bemish
rolled onto his side and drove his heel into Kissur's kneecap.
Kissur roared. A lock and a snatch followed and, having thrown the
barbarian over, Bemish leapt on his feet.
Time froze as a sentinel at a gate. Bemish was watching Kissur falling
vertically, head down to the floor and he could already hear the crunching
sound that vertebrae would make breaking over hard wood. For a moment he
wanted to rush to his friend and spot him but he realized that he would be
late. He also realized that he would die a second after this sound came.
At the last moment, Kissur threw his arms forward and his hands rustled
touching the hardwood floor. Kissur somersaulted over his head and having
pushed himself off the floor with his hands, kicked Bemish horribly with
both legs in his chest. Bemish flew away to the wall. Kissur's fist missed
his jaw by a millimeter. Bemish dove and landed a short jab in Kissur's
solar plexus. Kissur swayed. Bemish drove his heel into Kissur's groin. The
latter roared. The next moment, he jumped at his opponent and he jammed
Bemish in the ribs with his knee. The company director was thrown to the
floor. He barely had time to turn aside and then Kissur's heavy boot kicked
him in the chin once and again.
Bemish tucked his knees in and, right at this moment, he saw in the
ceiling's light Kissur's contorted face far above him and his blackened fist
right next to his eyes. Then something exploded and flashed in Bemish's
head. The world sank and fell like a flower petal and Bemish lolled on the
floor like a man who had his skeleton extracted so that only the meat was
left. Two fighters locked handcuffs on his wrists and dragged him by his
legs out of the room. The Assalah director's head trailed down the office's
freshly waxed hardwood floor, blood seeped out of his light hair.
"If anybody moves," Kissur said, "he will get nine grams heavier."
And he pointed at dead Giles.
"What does it mean?" Ronald Trevis asked from the floor.
"The spaceport is taken over."
"Who took over it?"
"It is the party of people's freedom."
Then, dressed in Earth clothing, Kissur smiled and took a broad marine
knife from a warrior standing next to him. Slowly and enjoying himself, he
wrapped his dark red bordeaux colored tie around his left hand and, grinning
broadly, he cut it off at the top.
X X X
Afterwards, everybody admitted that, on the technical side, the
operation had been performed brilliantly.
At 18.05, an announcement sounded out of the Assalah spaceport
loudspeakers. A slightly hoarse voice with a trace of Alom accent said,
"Ladies and gentlemen! The Assalah spaceport is controlled by me, Kissur,
and the party of people's freedom. All the spaceport guards have been
disarmed. Nobody should move from where they are. Anybody resisting my
troops will be shot dead on the spot. Any panic will be considered a
resistance attempt.
The Earthmen will soon be allowed to leave the spaceport. Before that,
however, they are considered to be hostages and they will be killed if they
take any hostile actions towards us.
Ladies and gentlemen, have a good day. Goodbye."
Immediately after the announcement, Kissur's fighters, present in
practically every lounge, custom corridor, restaurant and shop jerked their
assault rifles up at the ready position and screamed, "Everybody down on the
floor! Ass up, hands behind your head! Go! The majority of people submitted
obediently, dropping in the process the souvenirs they just bought - Inis
lacquered figurines and flat wooden bottles with Chakhar vodka. This order
effectively stopped panic (that was to be treated as resistance). Occasional
gun bursts above the heads took place; five spaceport security service
employees attempted to escape - four were shot dead and the fifth died two
hours later at a surgery table.
In the air traffic control room, assault rifles were aimed at the
workers and the latter unquestioningly obeyed Khanadar's directions - to
announce Assalah, without getting into any extra details, to be a closed-off
zone. Therefore, the ships that were not on the landing trajectory yet,
should go land anywhere the hell they want but not in Assalah; the ships
that were already moving on the landing trajectory should continue landing.
The pilots are a well trained crowd and they were accustomed to landing
the way they were told to. The last two ships had time to figure out that
they were landing in a spaceport taken over by terrorists. Attesting to the
professional level of their crews, the ships didn't vacillate in the air -
that could've been very dangerous - and landed in the spaceport. After the
landing, they immediately required a permission to launch; the permission
was refused.
At least, not a single ship crashed missing the launching chutes; it
would've been very probable if the air traffic controllers had panicked.
The flight schedule board in the main lounge blinked and went dead.
Then, an announcement appeared on it, "Long live the party of people's
freedom!" The announcement was written in Weian and English. The English
variation contained a grammatical mistake.
There were total of eight thousand people in the spaceport, five
hundred volunteer and regular security service employees, twenty three
hundred of regular personnel and fifty two hundred passengers.
About four dozens passengers, mostly journalists, recognizable thanks
to their cameras, were pulled out of the crowd and brought to an office.
Kissur and his younger brother Ashidan sat there and young Ashinik with the
old man Yadan represented the zealots. Kissur offered the guests to take
part in the inspection of the spaceport and he added that he would rely
completely upon their honest reports. Afterwards, the whole Galaxy saw the
pictures made by these journalists.
X X X
The following is an excerpt from the testimony given by Francis F.
Carr, an employee of a large auditing firm Coupere, Lir and Gambacher; he
had been among the forty selected hostages. Mr. Carr gave this testimony to
a senate committee during an investigation concerning the spaceport's
takeover a month and a half later.
"Why did they pick you?"
"I don't know. Two fighters approached me, one of them stuck his finger
at me and they took me away. They didn't speak English. I thought that they
were going to shoot me."
"Did they beat you?"
"Frankly, I got a good kick in the butt and, when we were passing the
peasants, somebody threw a rotten tomato at me."
"What did they fighters do?"
"They screamed something at the crowd and they cleaned the tomato off
me."
"What happened next?"
"They took me to a large room, there were already about thirty people
there. A lot of journalists were there and nobody obstructed from taking
pictures. Kissur and his brother sat at a table together with the leaders of
the party of people's freedom. Kissur told the journalists to save their
film - he was going to take them on a trip through the spaceport and they
would get good shots there."
"What happened next?"
"Kissur said that he demanded that everything photographed was shown on
Galactic channels. He said that the films should be sent to a place that had
broadcasting equipment and that the broadcast should be shown on all
channels. He said that they had agents on different planets and that if the
broadcast started later than 9am of the next day, he would shoot five
hostages for every minute of delay. Somebody asked what would happen to the
hostages if his demands were complied with. Kissur said that he was not
enough of a scoundrel to make eight thousand Earthmen hostages in his future
fight with Gera. Then, they asked him why he had seized the spaceport and he
said that it was the only way to expose all its secret depositaries. He said
that it was impossible to pick a moment when no passengers were present in
the spaceport and that he didn't know any way to prevent panic spreading
among civilians but to make them drop on their bellies and to shoot a dozen
or two as an example. They asked him what he was going to do with the
passengers and he said that after the broadcast was shown, he would free the
hostages."
"What about the personnel?"
"He said that he had to detain the employees that were necessary for
the proper operation of the spaceport."
"Have you witnessed any abuse of the passengers?"
"Yes. I saw a terrorist hitting a man with his rifle's butt only
because the man rose without obtaining permission. Also a guy, sitting on
the floor, stretched his legs; a terrorist thought that the guy was trying
to trip him and the fighter hit him with his knee in the temple."
"What else has Kissur said?"
"He said that he had arrived at the spaceport to defend his friend
Bemish. Then, he obtained reliable information that the military had been
transporting toxic gas in a ship and that they were going to use it against
the protesters. He had tried to persuade Bemish's deputy, an Intelligence
Service employee Giles, not to utilize the gas. The latter said, "Shut up,
Weian monkey." Kissur shot Giles."
"Have you seen the gas?"
"Yes. In a ship that was one of the latest to arrive, neurotoxin
containers made up half the cargo. The containers were marked as a military
cargo accordingly to the standard rules of the Federation Space Force. We
were the first ones to enter the ship and the journalists photographed
everything."
"Are you aware of the fact that the Federation defense department
claims that it does not own these containers?"
"Yes, your honor."
"In your opinion, could Kissur load the containers before showing them
to you?"
"That would be impossible. When we stood at the loading dock, the after
landing warning lights were still lit on the board and they were just
dragging the crew outside."
"What happened next?"
"They took us down a lot of storage areas. Quite often, the goods that
were stored there had nothing to do with custom department's documentation
describing them. More precisely, it was practically never the case. Cars
were called medical equipment, computers were called canned food. I saw
boxes of Lamass lace that were exported as glass."
"Were you offered any explanation?"
"Yes. The goods that were not duty free were documented as goods that
were. Most export-import companies had a life expectation of less than two
months. I don't know how corruption in customs looks on other planets but I
was shocked by what I saw there. They didn't steal by containers, they stole
by whole cargo loads."
"What happened next?"
"Finally, they took us to an area of space field that was almost never
used for the civil flights. The chutes there looked slightly different from
the civil ones. They showed us papers demonstrating that these chutes were
intended for military ships. There were certain differences in construction
between military and civil chutes, for instance ceramics deposition on the
support columns allowed a ship to have a launching acceleration of five to
six times higher than a civilian spaceship would require. They also..."
"We are not discussing technical parameters of military chutes at this
hearing. Did you only see chutes?"
"No. There were several storage areas there - 17A, 17B and 17C - that
had walls and locks designed in a different way. In particular, the storages
had radiation shielding. Mr. Bemish was brought in and he opened the
storage."
"How was Bemish treated?"
"They dragged him on a leash."
"How did he look?"
"He looked horrible. His suit was torn, there was blood on his shirt
and he had a huge wale under his right eye. On the other hand, Kissur had
the same size wale under his left eye and, as far as I know, Bemish got it
all while fighting. Nobody beat him when his hands were tied."
"What was in the storage?"
"Some imported apparel was stored in 17A though, accordingly to the
documentation, it was supposed to be empty. 17B was also supposed to be
empty accordingly to the documentation. However, containers with medical
markings were stored there. Right in front of us, they extracted
constructions out of the containers that were later identified as partially
functional Cassiopeia missiles."
"Why was Bemish needed there?"
"The storage areas were computer controlled and the computer had eye
retina recognition lock system. There were only two retina images loaded
into the computer memory, the spaceport director's and his deputy's -
Terence Bemish and Richard Giles."
"Therefore, the missiles could be stored there only if the above named
persons were involved. Is it correct?"
"Yes, your honor."
X X X
Bemish lay on a leather sofa in his own office and his hands were tied
tightly behind his back. If he moved his eyes to the side strenuously
enough, he could see out of an office's window a small section of the
landing field and an arching asphalt ramp. Peasants wandered around in the
landing field. A beetle shaped passenger bus crawled down the ramp.
The door squeaked and Kissur entered the office. Bemish turned
pointedly to the wall; the pain in his twisted hand made him hiss sharply.
"Hello to a TV star," Kissur said, "They will show you tomorrow on all
the channels - together with 17B storage area."
Bemish turned and hissed again.
"How did those damned missiles get here?" Bemish asked.
"My dear," Kissur said, "that's a question for you."
"Don't clown around! I sent them there on Shavash's request..."
"And Shavash thought that he was importing cute little cars," Kissur
finished for him.
"You know, Shavash can goof up sometimes too... I don't have my own
dummy fronts so I had to use one of vice minister's."
"What are you striving for, Kissur?" Bemish asked. "Have you forgotten
how you shouted with joy when they told you that they would build a military
base here? And I was almost killed when I refused to do it!"
Kissur was smiling and nursing an assault rifle on his knees.
"All right. You abased Shavash. You filmed him being a thief. You
filmed me being a thief. You buried our military in unforgettable shit
though, for my death's sake, I can't figure out how you got these damned
missiles. What do you want?"
"What do I want? I want this spaceport to be nationalized. I want all
this crap that the foreigners have built here to be nationalized. I want to
change the government that steals just like our little brother Shavash. The
foreigners station armaments, which are forbidden across the whole Galaxy,
on our land and without our knowledge. Do you think that it's enough of a
reason to expropriate the goods that the rich had stolen from us and return
them to the people?"
Bemish jerked.
"Idiot! You will fail completely!"
"Why?"
"Why?! Are you asking me, why? Just look at the people you allied
yourself with! You will ruin your country and lose your head! Can you name a
single official allied with you, can you name just one man who knows what a
budget is and what a balance is?! Your allies are idiots who think that
Earthmen are demons! Look, Ashinik can only discourse on the eradication of
protectionism and setting the same rules for everybody till the moment when
he gets to power. When he gets to power, however, either he will do what his
party wants or they will devour him whole. Do you think that with such
allies you will be able to produce anything but a circuit performance? Do
you think that anybody will talk to you? What about the hostages and the
victims?"
"I will release the hostages," Kissur said.
"You mean the passengers. What about the personnel? Damn it, if you let
the personnel go, the whole place will collapse. Are you going to stick a
Weian zealot behind a VIS operating terminal?"
"I will release all the Earthmen hostages," Kissur repeated, "The
personnel staying here are citizens of the Empire. I assure you that all
Earth journalists will say that I released the hostages since they consider
only Earthmen to be the hostages. The Empire's officials don't care -
hostages or no hostages - we have never considered it to be a crime to begin
with."
Bemish shut his eyes and groaned. It was correct. If Kissur was saying
the truth, it was the end of it. The party of people's freedom had in its
power five thousand foreigners and it immediately released them. The whole
thing would look pretty good compared to the thievery and missiles that had
been discovered after the party's desperate actions. And it was not just
that; all the rumors that the government had been spreading about the party
such as the zealots considering Earthmen to be demons... The party's
honorable actions would prove the rumors to be a bunch of lies. It was
smart. It was smart and... unlike Kissur.
At that point, another man showed up at the office's entrance.
"So, we've met again, master."
Bemish turned his head.
"Should I thank you, Ashinik," he asked, "for PR strategy and tactics?"
The young man smiled. His hands nursed an assault rifle nervously.
"You are probably cursing the day when you didn't allow Kissur to kill
me, aren't you, master?"
Bemish ground his teeth.
"Just a bit," he muttered, "At least, Inis would have been alive."
"Don't touch her name, murderer!" Ashinik leaped.
"What's this crap?"
"You would've killed me too if I hadn't escaped!"
"That's bullshit. She was killed on Yadan's command in order to cause a
quarrel between us! Yadan acted exactly the same way as he had done earlier
with his predecessor! Why would I've killed her?"
"You did it out of jealousy."
"What jealousy are you talking about, idiot? I had given her away to
you. And she asked me that day to take her back!"
"Gave her away, take her back," Ashinik paled and whispered, "Are Weian
women property to take and give away?"
"How long are you going to carp for?" Kissur inquired.
Ashinik regained his senses.
"Ashinik hasn't told us the most important thing yet," Bemish noted
sarcastically. "What tree is he going to use to hang the murderer of an
unfaithful concubine? This is not, by the way, a crime accordingly to the
ancient laws that he holds so dear."
"Mr. Bemish," Ashinik said, "the new Weian revolutionary government is
not going to detain you. We would like you to convey our demands, the
demands of the people. They are very simple and they are in the best
interest of both the Emperor and the people. Only corrupted officials and
gluttonous foreigners would resist them. We demand that the current
government resign and that the corrupted officials are persecuted by the
court. We demand that Kissur the White Falcon leads the Empire as he did ten
years ago. We demand that the foreign concept of elections is crossed out
from the government's edicts - this concept is not fitting for the Weian
people's spirit. Since our party won your stupid elections, we are clearly
acting in the majority's interests. We demand all the companies that belong
to the foreigners to be unconditionally nationalized. We demand all the
other private property holders submit themselves to an investigation. We are
not against businessmen, we are against the bad and the gluttonous
businessmen that suck on the people's marrow and don't think about the
people's interests! We will eradicate the bad businessmen and we will
support the good ones!"
"In your opinion, the bad businessmen," Bemish couldn't hold it back,
"are the ones that don't bribe you and the good businessmen are the ones
that do!"
"Shut up!" Ashinik screamed. "It's not for you to talk about bribery,
Mr. Bemish! Not after they took a walk down your storage areas with
cameras!"
The Fourteenth Chapter
Or the first minister as an international terrorist.
At 19.54 they crammed Bemish into his own Mercedes and an unsmiling
Khanadar drove him to the last post located in front of the old village. The
village seemed to be dead. Dust hovered above the field - a flock of
military skyers had just passed by.
About two hundred meters away from the post, a roadblock gate had been
installed in a hurry. Antennas, resembling overgrown burdocks, stuck out
behind the gate and a herd of military Jeeps hang out nearby. Another
kilometer further, Bemish's own villa stood out, a gift from the terrorists'
chief and the Empire's ex-first minister...
It was two hundred meters. Two hundred meters separated an ex-spaceport
taken over by the terrorists from the normal world populated with corrupted
officials and stupid Earthmen. It was two hundred meters for the ex-director
of Assalah Company, Mr. Bemish. On his neck, he carried a suitcase
containing the terrorists' demands to nationalize his company and a key from
the handcuffs - his hands were still locked behind his back. For two hundred
meters sun rays and the red lights of laser sights danced on his face.
Bemish stepped behind the gate. The red lights went out and people in
military uniforms rushed towards him. There were some civilians present;
Bemish recognized Michael Severin, the Federation envoy. There were
absolutely no journalists present.
They crammed Bemish into a car and the car rushed towards the villa.
"How did the missiles got there?" a man in a colonel's uniform screamed
at Bemish.
"You should ask Shavash about it," Bemish bit back, "He asked me to
take care of this cargo."
"We will ask him," the colonel uttered.
"We know how the missiles got there," the second guy said. "They got
there from NordWest base. It's a base located on Agaia's moon. An old
acquaintance of Kissur's -an anarchist - used to work in one of Agaia's
spaceports. He visited Weia six months ago and Kissur went Agaia last month.
A week after his arrival, an accident occurred. This anarchist Lore and his
five friends missed a sharp turn on a road and fell into a chasm. It was
just an accident. The same day, another accident occured a light year and a
half away from Agaia; a mechanic at the base, Denny Hill, simply drowned
next to a crowded beach - he was on a vacation. It's quite clear where
Kissur got the missiles. On the other hand, how did you get them, Mr.
Bemish?"
"Why don't you start with yourselves?" Bemish bit back. "They steal
your missiles like they would steal wheat out of a kitchen cabinet. Do you
know their demands?"
"We do. They have already reported them on SV. Do you think that he can
really kill the hostages if we don't transmit the news over TV?"
"Kill them?" Bemish got angry. "He is capable of eating them, marinated
or fried! Do you know that nine years ago he hanged three thousand city
dwellers that rebelled in the capital? During the civil war, he hanged three
hundred people on the Orch's left shore and three hundred people on the
right one! Have you forgotten about the Khanalai's camp?"
The car stopped in the villa's yard and Bemish was the first to jump
out of it on the sand.
"Where are the journalists, by the way?" he asked.
"That's just what we are missing," the colonel snorted.
"You are wrong," Bemish said. "Kissur is running a show for the
journalists while you kicked them out. They lack minds of their own and they
repeat whatever you tell them. You will see that they will praise Kissur and
shit on you."
"They will praise Kissur, won't they?!" the colonel was enraged. "Will
they praise a scoundrel who took eight thousand people hostage?!"
X X X
Shavash rushed towards Bemish right from the villa staircase. He hadn't
come to meet him - he was scared! The small official was deathly pale and a
sleeve of his velvet coat was dirty - it looked out of place on usually tidy
Shavash.
"What is he doing?!" Shavash cried out. "Has he demanded anything of
me, Terence?"
"He demanded exactly the same," Bemish replied, "as he did when you
suggested swapping wives."
Shavash grabbed his head.
"Terence Bemish claims," The colonel said, "that the cargo belonging to
Dassa Company was placed into 17B storage area accordingly to your orders.
Is it true?"
Shavash raised his crazy eyes.
"How does it matter?!" he shouted exasperated.
"Were those your orders or not?"
"Oh my God, I probably ordered it," the official screamed in fury, "Big
deal! They gave me two hundred thousand for a phone call and I called. It
was not my cargo!"
"It's clearly not yours!" the colonel spoke with unconcealed contempt
looking at the small official.
"Are you any better?!" Shavash screamed. "They go around shoplifting
your missiles in your base like chocolate bars in a supermarket, why do you
point your finger at me?"
X X X
Ten minutes later, in the main villa's hall - it was a charming hall
decorated with blue and pale yellow silk - the Assalah emergency committee
opened a session. The following people took place in the meeting: six high
Weian officials, Terence Bemish as the director of the company where this
whole disgrace was taking place, the Earth envoy, three military advisors,
also from Earth, and two colleagues of deceased Giles from the Intelligence
Service. Mr. Shavash headed the committee which was quite unusual. The small
official generally preferred to stay in the shadow during storms but this
time he didn't have enough patience for it. He presided over the meeting
looking like a corpse.
"Generally speaking, it's quite a surprising alliance," envoy Severin
said. "There is practically nothing in common between Kissur and the
zealots. Kissur didn't take part in the elections, the zealots won them.
Kissur is an ex-first minister of Weia; his political views are those of a
strong armed state supporter if not of an outright fascist. He hates
everything that weakens state's power. It's natural for him to hate sects
and heresies. Ignoring the liberal media's views, the zealots, even the ones
that studied at Hevishem - here the Envoy glanced at Bemish reproachfully -
consider Earthmen to be demons. Kissur doesn't think so. The demands of the
nationalization of the foreign companies clearly come from the zealots.
However extravagant Kissur's views are, the presence of Mr. Bemish here
demonstrates that Kissur is capable of a very good attitude towards a
foreign swindler... I think that it would be enough just to stall it for a
while and this coalition will fall apart on its own - they just don't have
anything in common..."
"Can't you see what they have in common?!" Shavash cried out in
desperation. "They want my head separated from my body!"
Everybody was somewhat shocked by this cowardice. The colonel, having
leaned towards Bemish, whispered at his ear, "If this is the case, I will
soon join the coalition."
"Are you trying to say, Mr. Shavash," the envoy inquired in an icy
voice, "that it was only the desire to hang you that made them organize the
massacre at the spaceport, take eight thousand people hostage, discredit our
military forces and demand the changeover of the Empire's government?"
"Gentlemen, let's stop bickering," Bemish said, "You should figure out
your response to Kissur's demands. And I would like to note that since these
demands concern the Weian government and its internal politics, it's quite
astonishing that half of our committee are Earthmen."
"Have you forgotten that Earthmen have been taken hostages at the
spaceport?" the colonel asked.
"The Earthmen are a minority of the hostages," Bemish replied. "As the
Assalah director, I should inform you that 80% of the passengers and 93% of
the personnel are Weian. Go ahead and calculate how many Earthmen are
currently at the spaceport."
"I can tell you, Terence, why the Earthmen are sitting here," Shavash
intervened. "Our government decided to request the Federation of Nineteen's
military assistance to quench the rebellion and free the hostages."
"So, you are not going to accept their demands, are you?" Bemish
inquired.
"It's simply impossible," the foreign affairs minister Khasha claimed.
"Aren't you of the same opinion, Mr. Bemish?"
"I would succumb to their demands," Bemish said.
Everybody went still for a moment.
"Oh," the minister spoke smirking. "Haven't you forgotten that one of
their demands is gratis nationalization of foreign companies? Do you have
another spaceport with one and a half billion isheviks annual profit stashed
somewhere, director?"
Bemish paused.
"I would prefer to get the spaceport back in two years," Bemish
replied, "after Kissur's policy crashes completely, rather than be a
murderer of eight thousand people."
"You have it easy, Earthman," the minister said. "You will lose the
spaceport while others will lose their heads."
"Don't you understand, Terence," Shavash cried, "he's a psycho, a
maniac! This man will grind you flat. What do you think will happen to the
country when they start sorting good businessmen from bad ones?! We should
annihilate him! We should call the Federation troops in and squash him like
a bug!"
"As the chairman of the Assalah Company's board of directors," Bemish
said, "I protest fully against allowing the Federation troops on its
territory. And I would like to remind the people present here that if they
start using Federation troops to solve their internal problems..."
"Don't teach us, Earthman," an enraged Shainna screamed - he was the
deputy chairman of Weia Central Bank and a buddy of Shavash's.
"I will teach you!" Bemish screamed just as loudly, "You don't give a
damn about Kissur's industry nationalization demands! You have been living
for two thousand years with nationalized industry! What you care about is
that Kissur demands to hang you personally, Shainna, and you, Shavash for
corruption! Here, a lot of people would agree with Kissur..."
Shavash stood.
"As the official inspector having full authority to deal with the
Assalah emergency situation, I request the assistance of the Federation of
Nineteen troops."
Bemish rose.
"Gentlemen, I refuse to take part in this abomination."
And he left.
The sunrise was starting somewhere far away. The fragrance of the
jasmine bushes was sharp and sleepy bulls mooed in the village having
returned from the late plowing.
Wrapping himself in an overcoat and shuddering from cold, Bemish walked
to an old gazebo. A servant, stepping softly, brought a basket with liquors
to the gazebo and asked what they should serve the guests for the dinner and
what they should do to the policemen. The latter started screaming already
and the servants had to give them twenty sacks from storage...
Bemish barked at him such that the slave ran away in fear. The basket,
however, came to be quite useful. Bemish grabbed a wooden bottle plaited
with bark, tore the plug out, threw his head back and started gulping palm
vodka.
He stopped only after having drunk half of it.
Far away, through a woven gazebo wall he could see the spaceport.
Unlike usual, t didn't gleam at night. The main buildings shined with a dull
light and where only yesterday the landing lights used to sparkle, darkness
and fog sprawled above the chutes. The monorail gleamed as a lonely horn
sticking out of the dark and posts of armed people swarmed every hundred
meters on the highway.
Somewhere far away, at the first gates blocking the access to the
villa, the whole crowd of journalists was throwing a fit. These idiots,
Weian officials, insisted on not letting them in... Bemish, however, didn't
want to see the journalists. He could imagine what questions they would ask
him. And he couldn't even tell them one tenth of what he had said at the
emergency committee meeting.
The gazebo door squeaked. Bemish turned his head and saw the envoy. The
latter's crazy eyes wandered around for a while and then he grabbed the
vodka bottle.
"I've drunk out of it already," Bemish warned him.
The envoy just waved his hand.
"You were correct when you left," Severin said. He finished the vodka
off and dropped heavily on a bench. "Everybody taking part in this accident
will be in shit up to their ears."
"Have they decided to call the troops in?"
"The commandoes will be here in two hours. It's the Eleventh Federal
Paratrooper Division. They are damned good. At the moment Kissur lets the
hostages go, they'll roll over him."
"In two hours?! How did they get here so fast?"
"They were being moved to their new positions."
"So, that they could be closer to Gera, right?"
The envoy smirked and nodded.
"Do you understand that this is Shavash's decision? The only thing that
he is afraid of is that Kissur will hang him on the tallest catalpa? He went
nuts from fear."
"That's right," the envoy said. "I have never seen it before in my life
- Mr. Shavash made a public statement supporting a certain decision and he
took all the responsibility. Can you imagine that - he signed the request
for the Federal troops himself! All the ministers there kindly passed this
honor to him..."
Bemish muttered something.
"Do you know why the officials agreed to invite the troops? They
understand that this will make Shavash a political nonentity... You,
however, were very brave. Don't you regret losing your company?"
Bemish paused. Then he added, smiling.
"My company is bankrupt. My stocks are worth less than rutabaga in a
farmer's market. I don't care whether my creditors get one cent or ten cents
for a dinar."
X X X
By the time sunrise came to Assalah spaceport and another working day
ended in Melbourne, the Federation capital, the news of the Assalah accident
had spread across the whole Galaxy. Assalah was photographed from above,
from below and from the side. This place used to be known only to a small
group of financiers as a great example of investment into a development
market. Now it occupied the front pages of newspapers. A number of channels
started delivering hourly news from Assalah. Everybody was waiting for the
broadcast that was assigned to start (after minor technical arguments with
Kissur) at fifteen thirty. Even if Kissur hadn't given his horrible
ultimatum - five shot hostages for every minute of delay - few people
would've missed such a possibility to peep at history.
X X X
The division arrived in Weian orbit by seven. They landed in Salgar
spaceport by eight and, in four hours, military helicopters unloaded most of
the commandoes next to Bemish's villa. Tanks, gleaming dully and looking
like huge beetles, spread in a large semicircle; indecipherable peeps of
coded signals filled ether; soldiers had already started setting hardy
camouflaged tents; bread and canned meat were being passed to the companies
off the helicopters.
At the same time, the first media conference finally took place. Weian
"yellow jackets" ran a body search on a dozen of journalists, crammed them
in a bus and drove them to the villa. There, Shavash, Bemish and Envoy
Severin sat decorously in a row, expecting them.
Shavash familiarized the media with Kissur's ultimatum and he kept
talking for a while. Accordingly to his words, the Weian government would
not allow any nationalization of private industry to take place. He also
said that as the Assalah emergency committee head, he had requested the
Federation's military assistance and that 11th space commando
division was currently disembarking next to Assalah.
"Are they going to attack the spaceport?" a journalist asked.
"Absolutely not," Shavash lied unabashedly. "We can't endanger the
hostages. We are going to blockade the spaceport so that we can negotiate
from a better position."
At fifteen thirty, Bemish and the other members of the emergency
committee gathered to watch the broadcast made by the hostage journalists.
One had to admit that the journalists did their best. They made it
clear that they were reporting at gun point. They made it clear that the men
who had them at gun point would sacrifice the other people's lives
unhesitatingly. They also made it clear that the terrorists would also
sacrifice their own lives unhesitatingly.
Their denunciations were horrifying. The cameras coldly stared inside
the reinforced chutes while, behind the screen, Kissur monotonously
commented that these particular types of boarding joints were built only for
military rockets. The dull sides of Cassiopeia missiles gleamed slightly.
The old accusations spread by zealots about the spaceport's dual purpose
were confirmed. The most fantastic rumors spread by Gera about the
Federation clandestinely breaking the non-proliferation treaties pompously
signed in the past were also confirmed.
Luxury cars had been imported labeled as assistance to the victims of
natural disasters and ancient Lamass vases had been exported as scrap brass.
Laws and regulations had been flouted at an incredible scale. The takeover
of the spaceport looked like a desperate attempt - however cruel and
despicable it was - to demonstrate the scale of current administration's
thievery, corruption and treachery. Several Earth auditors and financiers
unwillingly confirmed Ashinik's calculations of the chicanery that had taken
place at the spaceport.
Once the broadcast had come to an end, the party of people's freedom
started a media conference. It was relayed to Weia in real time and to the
Galaxy with a five minute delay.
Kissur and his cronies sat in the company's director office. Kissur
said that right after the conference, they would start releasing the
hostages.
"Aren't you afraid," a journalist asked, "that they will obliterate you
immediately after the hostages are released?"
Here Kissur answered that the party of people's freedom had acted out
of despair and had tried to reveal the ultimate corruption of the current
government. They also wanted to demonstrate that the military treaties,
catastrophic for Weia, did in fact exist in spite of blatant denials coming
from the government. Killing several thousand unarmed peasants would only
confirm the treaty's presence and it would be difficult to imagine the
government ready to compromise itself so much.
Ashinik spoke afterwards.
He said that certain corrupted Weian officials attempted to force the
Emperor to follow their policies. When the Emperor had refused to oblige
them, they forced him to declare the elections. They hoped to gain the power
that the Emperor refused them by lying to the people. When the bureaucrats'
party lost the elections, they refused to acknowledge their results.
Ashinik stressed that he was one of leaders of the party that had won
the elections and his demands were the demands of the people. He declared
that his party demanded the complete changeover of the government and that
the most corrupted officials should be taken to trial. He declared that
people wanted to see Kissur as the first minister and he listed the
remaining future cabinet. (Ashinik would become the finance minister.)
Ashinik said that the Weian government would have to stop payments on its
loans.
"The largest part of the country's debt consists of private bank loans
that the finance ministry had been bribed to take at a very high interest,"
Ashinik declared. "It's very difficult for me to say this but it's the only
way out for a country where the total taxation amount is smaller that the
debt payments. In any case, it's absolutely impossible that the most
profitable companies would use paying this debt off as an excuse to avoid
paying taxes and would turn into practically independent states inside our
country. At first Shavash received millions leading the country into a debt
trap and now he wants to receive billions getting the country out of this
trap."
Ashinik also claimed that in exceptional cases, related to the state
security or following ultimate abuses of the state's interests, foreign
companies should be nationalized. Assalah spaceport was such a case.
"The Assalah spaceport's director claims," a journalist said, "that you
would like to nationalize all Weian industry, throw the foreigners out and
ban private property. Is it true?"
"That's a monstrous lie," Ashinik stated. "I don't know where Bemish
got this idea."
X X X
The press conference with Kissur in Assalah spaceport and the press
conference with emergency committee at Bemish's villa, ten kilometers away,
took place practically simultaneously. Shavash, Bemish and Earth envoy
answered the journalists' questions.
They asked Bemish what he could say about the new government's demands
and Bemish stated, "The banishment of foreign businessmen would only be the
first step. Having obtained power, these people will start nationalizing
industry."
"How do you know this?" a journalist asked.
"Their leader, Ashinik, officially stated that at our last meeting."
"We have also received this information," the journalist said. "Ten
minutes ago, Ashinik, Yadan and Kissur claimed that they had never said such
a stupid thing. How would you explain, Mr. Bemish, the fact that during the
election campaign the party of people's freedom had been repeatedly and
falsely claimed to hold monstrous views and programs?"
Bemish gaped at such affront of the terrorists. "Oh-oh, I got it," a
thought glanced in his head.
"This party has never taken hostages either!" Severin exploded, "hasn't
it? They are practically saints!"
"Is it true that a secret military agreement signed during Assalah
construction included building a military base at the spaceport and delivery
and storage of Cassiopeia missiles?"
"That's a monstrous lie," the envoy said.
"How will you then explain the presence of the missiles at the
spaceport?"
"We are currently investigating how terrorists were able to steal these
missiles from one of our space military bases and transport them to
Assalah."
"Are you trying to say that they stole twelve missiles from our bases
in such a way that nobody noticed anything and that the best use of them the
thief was able to figure out was to hide them at a storage area that could
be unlocked only by two people in the Galaxy?"
"We are investigating it."
"Could you, please, tell us, if the fact that Earth troops have been
summoned here confirms that there was a secret military agreement? Does it
also confirm, indirectly, that the presence of missiles was a part of the
agreement?"
"No."
X X X
Kissur held his word. Immediately after the end of the press
conference, the journalists started taping buses and monorail trains leaving
the spaceport. The hostages cried, but were incredibly obedient. The
fighters screamed that they would shoot anybody who would cut the line
trying to get into a bus and nobody tried cutting the line.
Five LSV bank employees and Ronald Trevis - bearing some cuts and
biting his lips - left with one of the buses. Journalists ambushed him
leaving the bus but he blocked his face with his hands, bolted to a
helicopter and flew to Arvadan. Two hours later he left Arvadan for Earth
and became completely inaccessible. Journalists yearned to question the king
of the hidden market about his company's part in financing the most
scandalous construction of the century. The journalists didn't have their
yearning satisfied and they had to limit themselves with their own
commentaries. These commentaries were not particularly benevolent.
By 18:00 the last train with passenger hostages left the platform.
About eighty employees stayed in the spaceport - they were necessary for the
crucial spaceport's systems to function. Five hundred armed fighters and
several thousand Weian zealot peasants also stayed.
X X X
Also by 18:00, next to the spaceport the 11th division had
almost finished d disembarking. Heavy helicopters were landing right on the
fields behind the company director's villa, amphibian tanks were crawling
out of their bellies and sturdy guys in bulletproof uniforms were jumping
out.
Bemish walked down where the same two counter-intelligence guys were
meeting the division commander - colonel Rogov, short and sturdy like a ball
bearing.
"I think," The colonel said, "that Mr. Bemish should also take part in
the planning of the operation. As I understand, you have constructed this
spaceport and you should know how to infiltrate the buildings with minimal
losses."
"Yes," Bemish nodded, "I've already thought about it. For instance,
there is a place where the monorail station's ventilation chutes are right
next to a cave system. It wouldn't be difficult to enter the caves about
three kilometers away from here. We had to reinforce them during
construction."
"That's excellent," the colonel rejoiced.
"Unfortunately," Bemish continued, "a man named Ashinik was my closest
assistant. He is now heading the terrorists and he remembers this story with
the caves quite well."
One of counter-intelligence officers swore loudly.
"What do you think about toxic gases?" the colonel asked.
"I have to disappoint you. A possibility of chemical attack or, more
precisely, an explosion or damage of rocket elements emitting toxins has
been taken into account during the construction. A monitoring system would
automatically turn an alarm on, block buildings off and start
detoxification."
The colonel bit his lips for a while.
"I am not a military man," Bemish said, "but I think that if you want
to kick the terrorists out of the spaceport, the only way to do it is to
drive tanks in and shoot at everything that shoots or surrenders.
"It looks like you are correct," the colonel said.
"What losses will you sustain?" the envoy asked the colonel.
"Well, I don't think that this party of people's freedom will fight all
that well. It's just civilians..."
Bemish got suddenly irritated at the military man.
"The zealots can't fight. But if I were you, I wouldn't be in a hurry
to classify Aloms as civilians..."
"Aloms?!"
Bemish looked at him, surprised.
"I mean Kissur's Aloms. It's a mountain people who... Listen, haven't
you been briefed about the Assalah takeover?"
"No," the commander said, "I don't know the details. The assistance
request said that it was a rebellion of Weian zealots who had won the
elections."
"Generally, it's correct," the envoy shrugged his shoulders. "The
majority of people in the spaceport are zealots."
"So, is the spaceport occupied by Aloms and not by the indigenous
people of the Empire?" the colonel specified with unnatural lack of
expression.
"What difference does it make for you?" the exasperated envoy shouted.
Bemish shuddered.
"Sorry, colonel, but how do you know about the difference between
Weians and Aloms?"
"Yes," the colonel said, "what's the difference? We follow orders."
It was already dark, when Bemish, having finished briefing colonel
Rogov on the spaceport's specific details, walked into the garden.
Bemish had never run into the Federation Army before even though he had
recently become acquainted to the Federation Counter Intelligence. He liked
colonel Rogov - Bemish had considered military people to be much more
stupid. One thing astounded him. There were dozens of populated planets in
the Galaxy. Weia was located in the backyard of the civilized world. How
could a Federal Army colonel know about the enmity between Weians and Aloms
who had conquered the former a number of times? When did they start teaching
galactic ethnography in military academies? Even he, Bemish, had needed
quite a bit of time to realize how deep was the gap between the peoples that
outsider observers considered to belong to the same race - the "Empire
people" and the "mountainous barbarians."
Bemish stood and looked at the night bustling with people. Somewhere an
engine yelped piteously like a cat that somebody kept stepping on the tail.
The crackling of cicadas mixed with rustling of faraway power stations.
That's it. Tomorrow this division would throw all its force at the
construction - he had dedicated the last two years of his life to this
construction and he had put his soul into it. They would hack the roadways
with their tanks, turn buildings and terminals into dust. Crazy zealots
would face the tanks with prayers and spells; they would be sure that all
this machinery was simply demonic phantoms and that their leaders would rise
into the air and turn the demonic fighting machines into paper and their
grenade launchers into beans...
Tomorrow Kissur would die. Because even if a termite shell's direct hit
didn't flatten him into the floor and a fan laser burst didn't find him and
a shock wave didn't roll over him, he would still kill himself. It would
happen because Kissur always lived as if he had died a long time ago. Never
would Kissur let himself be taken alive by commandos called in by Shavash.
And then somebody just to Bemish's left said in Alom,
"Do you have a fag?"
Bemish turned there in astonishment.
A Federation soldier sitting next to a fire silently flicked a pack of
cigarettes to his comrade.
Bemish rushed to the soldier. The latter was clicking his lighter but
having seen a civilian he stood up to attention hurriedly.
"What have you just said?" Bemish asked.
"I asked for a smoke, sir," the soldier was speaking English now. He
spoke it with a strange but quite familiar accent.
A horrible hunch entered Bemish's mind.
"Are you Alom?" he asked sharply in Alom. The soldier was silent.
"Are you Alom?"
Federation soldiers are forbidden to speak foreign languages, sir," the
priv