magined for a moment, what he would feel if he appeared on a newspaper page
in such a saucy way.
"My conclusion is that I should lose some weight. It's a shame of a
picture, don't you think so?"
X X X
Bemish was leaving the mansion when a dark skinned servant reported to
him, bowing.
"The mistress is expecting you in the Blooming Plums Gazebo."
Bemish walked into the garden. The woman that had withdrawn from the
room before the dinner was now walking on a white garden path, overcast with
sideways moon shadows, and the lace decorating her dress sleeves resembled
moon rays coiling around her wrists.
Bemish bowed shyly and said.
"Believe me, I am very sorry that you didn't dine with us."
"Men and women do not eat together," Idari objected. "Are you the
Earthman that has been buying Assalah via DJ securities?"
"You are informed surprisingly well," Bemish muttered abashedly,
realizing that the Idari's husband is unlikely to even know that DJ
securities exist.
"Well, if women eat separately from men," Idari smiled, "it doesn't
really mean that they don't know anything. Are you married?"
"I am divorced."
"Did your wife love you?"
"She loved my bank account."
Idari sat down on a bench in a fluid catlike motion and Bemish heard a
hydrangea bush rustle against her skirt. Idari gestured Bemish to sit next
to her.
"I appreciate everything you have done for my husband," Idari said.
"I haven't done anything for him," the Earthman objected, "while he has
done a lot for me."
"You are the first man from the stars that he made friends with. It's
so strange that this man belongs to Ronald Travis' circle."
And Bemish was again quite surprised by Idari's awareness.
"I thought he had Earthmen friends."
"Yes. People who throw bombs at the supermarkets and use drugs to
liberate themselves from the corrupting influence of the civilization."
Idari and Bemish sat very close to each other. The night had descended
already but the two moons shone powerfully like beacons and Bemish could
clearly see Idari's profile, a small head with the black braid wrapped
around the head and the hairpins glistening in the moonlight.
"My husband exerts a great influence on the Emperor," Idari continued,
"and you may exert a great influence on my husband. It would have been very
bad for my country, if Kissur had befriended, instead of you, the people he
had met two years ago on Earth."
Idari paused.
"What do you know of our history?"
Bemish flushed. His ignorance of everything related to Weian history
was practically absolute, it could only compare to his ignorance of Earth
history. If anything was of interest to him on this planet - it was the
budget deficit size or the central bank interest rate. The central bank
interest rate did not depend on history in any way.
"Is the name Arfarra familiar to you?"
Bemish faltered.
"He was the first minister..."
"He was the first minister twice. Once, before Earthmen. Second time,
after them. Once the Earthmen came to Weia, the Emperor appointed a man
named Nan as the first minister. Then, Nan was removed - with my husband's
help."
Bemish vaguely remembered the five-year-old scandal - since the scandal
took place on Earth, not on Weia. There was something about Kissur - the
Weian ex-first minister, hanging out on Earth. Or was it on Lann? Amidst
terrorists and drug abusers. A stolen car, drugs, a beaten policeman, the
arrest of a terrorist activity suspect, a scandal diligently stirred up by
somebody, and finally Kissur's statement that Nan was the main culprit in
the tragedy that happened after the hijacking of a military plane. This
statement played a part in the Earthman-minister resignation.
"Afterwards, a different premier and a different program of state
investment policy were instated. The taxes were high and the budget expenses
were huge. The only money left in the country was that in the state treasury
and in the banks with the highest officials as the stock holders. The
workers were not allowed to leave the companies they worked for and to
testify against their owners."
Idari grinned and added.
Shavash was, at that time, one of the most active supporters of the
state investments. He needed to clean his reputation up after his friendship
with Nan and he invented all the programs for the government, where money
just sank in the sand. Three tons of concrete were claimed where one ton of
concrete was used; five kilos of paint were reported where one kilo was
applied.
Concerning the laws that enslaved the workers, he wrote a memorandum
where he claimed, that the Weian way is different from the Galactic one,
since an owner doesn't exploit the workers as a hired cattle, but rather
takes fatherly life-long care of them. It should have ended with the
destruction of the country but it ended with a rebellion and the
government's resignation.
Then, Arfarra came in. He cut the state expenses down and rescinded the
employment laws. Meanwhile, my husband crushed the rebellions in the places
where the governors missed the old times.
Bemish almost didn't hear, what the woman was saying. The crossed light
bands from the two full breasted moons gleamed on the marble garden path and
silver bracelets like many-winged snakes entwined Idari's wrists, as thin as
ivy twigs.
"A bit later, Arfarra said to a man, named Van Leyven, that used to
invest a lot of money in Weia, "we are selling state constructions now, why
don't you buy Assalah?" - "I won't do that," Van Leyven said, "it's the most
disgusting of all Shavash's feeding troughs." - "Weian economics improved a
lot this year," Arfarra said, "but you used this year to freeze the
constructions, sell them to the state or get rid of the stocks via dummy
fronts. Why?" - Van Leyven thought for a bit and said. "I invested a lot of
money in Weia and incurred big losses. I staked it all and I lost. You let
the time slip by. The people lost their trust to the officials, the Earthmen
and the sovereign. You are old and sick, what will happen when you die?" -
"I've been dying for six years," Arfarra got angry, "will you buy Assalah or
not?" - "No." They parted then. Arfarra died the next day.
Bemish was now listening and holding his breath.
"My husband idolized Arfarra," Idari continued, "and it was extremely
difficult for me to persuade him not to take vengeance on Van Leyven outside
of Weia. He still had to leave Weia, since his death here would have been
certain, and he lost much more money than he had expected. I am saying this,
Mr. Bemish, so that you realized that profit and death walk closer to each
other on Weia, than they do on Earth. Especially if you buy Assalah and make
friends with Kissur."
Bemish returned to the hotel late at night. Dogs yapped far away in the
city, stars hung above the white temple and, in the next block, a sad
woman's voice was singing something accompanied by a flute.
Falling asleep, Bemish thought about the woman, with the black eyes and
the black braid wrapped around her head, and about the two people who had
lost their heads over that woman - Kissur and Shavash. He also thought about
Clyde Van Leyven; he knew a lot about this man, unlike the other actors of
the Idari's story. Since, Van Leyven was a billionaire and the financial
community watched his each step holding its breath. Unlike Idari, Bemish
knew that Van Leyven almost died half a year after the Weian events - the
brakes on his air cushioned seven-meter-long limo failed, the car broke
through the rail and dived in water from a twenty-meter-high bridge, the
driver drowned, the bodyguard broke his head on the front panel, and Van
Leyven miraculously survived. This story didn't hit the newspapers thanks to
Van Leyven's connections. And now Bemish was not sure that Kissur had held
on to his promise not to retaliate outside of Weia.
The Red Dog tavern was located in a less than prominent neighborhood.
Its entrance was gated by two snake gods entwining around two brass door
poles, brass lamps with sparkles swung under the planked ceiling, and the
wooden walls were decorated by a couple dozen signatures and crosses. The
signatures have been collected for the last twenty years and they belonged
to the most famous literate thieves of the current sovereign's rule. The
crosses belonged to the most famous illiterate thieves.
At least two people from this respectable circle sat in a corner
discussing their
crooked dealings and, upon Kissur's arrival, approached to greet him.
Kissur introduced them to Bemish. The first thief, a glum
golden-toothed middle aged handsome man extracted a business card out of his
pocket, where he was presented as some company's director, and assured
Bemish, that he would be happy to be of any service if Bemish ever needed
him.
Hence, both thieves, accompanied by their bodyguards, left in an
unknown direction. Kissur glumly mentioned that they were going to a meeting
with their competitors and, if they were apprehended, there would be one
less shoot out in the city.
"Apprehend them, then," Bemish suggested.
"Why? Let the spiders devour themselves."
Kissur and Bemish had just started on a suckling piglet, rising like a
soft white mountain from a savory sauce sea, when Kissur suddenly raised his
head - Kaminsky stood in front of him. The businessman had a somewhat
down-hearted look to him. He had a huge blue spot under his eye - like a
shaman painting himself before a divination- and his hand hung in a silk
sling.
"I came to say good-bye," Kaminsky said. "I am flying to Earth
tomorrow."
Kissur was looking at him silently.
Kaminski pushed a chair away and sat down.
"I was wrong," he said. "Out of all the Weian officials you are indeed
the only honest one. You didn't want a penny from me. Having returned, I'll
certainly tell all my friends, that there are two types of the Weian
officials - the officials who demand bribes from the Earthmen and use them
as pawns in their feuds and the one honest official who bathed me in a
swimming pool."
"You will also," Kissur said, "tell them that you are an innocent
victim of the dark machinations; that you wanted to buy land for twelve
millions but the officials persuaded you to buy it for a million and a half
with a knife at your throat."
"No," Kaminsky said.
I will not tell them what exactly has happened. But I wouldn't mind
telling you about it, ex-minister, to improve your economics education. I
arrive here and go to Khanida, "I would like to build a business center."
Khanida is politeness personified. He pours lavish praise all over me. He
has the utmost desire for future collaboration. He praises my unselfishness
and is so overwhelmed with it that he offers me the land not for twelve
million but for a million and a half. Reluctant to engage in doubtful
dealings, I refuse. Well! Twelve million it will be. Mr. Khanida is so
happy. He says that a base man cares about profit and an honorable man cares
about fairness. He sees both of us belonging to the honorable people ranks.
I start the construction and invest the money. Meanwhile, the land is still
not bought yet - they assure me - it's a pure formality. On a nice day, I
visit Mr. Khanida and he starts the million and a half talk again. I refuse
politely. Khanida shrugs his shoulders and becomes as cold as a frog. He
says that he is breaking the contract off. I lose it - come on, I've already
sunk big money in! For an answer, Khanida utters through clenched teeth
something about exploitators sucking on Weia's blood and liver. Then, I go
to Shavash, your dearest friend. He offers me... it's enough to say, Mr.
Kissur, that he offers me something similar but he wants twice more than
Khanida. I made a mistake here. I should've turned away and left. Screw the
expenses. But I felt bad about the lost money. I've already inhaled enough
of your stink. I saw that Khanida would do what he promised and I signed the
contract. My mistake was that I forgot about Shavash, who offered me the
same deal as Khanida. Shavash was irritated that Khanida didn't share the
loot with him. Naturally, the local customs code didn't allow him to rat on
me directly. And so, having chosen a right moment, he tells you the story
and you raise the buzz! And this buzz reverberates in Shavash's soul with
coins jingling pleasantly. And the Empire is left empty-handed again, and
Shavash is left in the full confidence that Khanida will give him half the
money next time, just to avoid the problems!
Kissur got the checkbook out of his pocket and asked.
"How much money did you give to Khanida?"
Kaminsky was astounded, and then, laughed.
"I don't need your money."
"Money is the only thing the Earthmen need. That's why the Earthmen's
destiny is suffering, since money not spent for friends and alms brings
trouble."
"Where do you get money, Kissur, eh? You don't trade, you don't take
bribes and you don't rob passers-by! Where does the money come from? The
Emperor just gives it to you, doesn't he? And it doesn't cost anything to
the Emperor - when the treasury runs out of money, he invents another tax.
You call a man who sells and buys a criminal, and a man who collects the
taxes for you, the cornerstone of the state! That's why you won't like it if
a parliament forms and only parliament can authorize the taxes collected in
this country."
"Do you want to swim again?"
Kaminsky took heed.
"No," he said bitterly, "I don't want to swim. You almost killed me
that time. Since you don't have any arguments other than swimming, I would
rather be silent. But I will advise all my friends on Earth and, by the way,
Terence Bemish, sitting next to you, never, under no circumstances, do any
business on Weia since nothing will come out of it besides debasement and
shame. Believe me, Mr. Kissur - I could still patch everything together. But
I am grateful to you that I lost this money; I recalled again that I have
honor and self-respect."
He turned and walked away.
Kissur looked at Bemish.
"Well," Kissur asked, "is he correct?"
"Yes," Bemish said.
"Will you leave?"
"No," Bemish shook his head "I won't leave. You, however, should."
"Where?"
"Anywhere."
"Too late," Kissur replied. "I applied to the Federation Military
Academy. They didn't accept me. I am not interested in any other place in
your Galaxy, full of worms like a year-old fig."
X X X
The next day, Bemish flew to the villa, where several members of his
team and two LSV employees arrived. They had a simple task - to develop the
contract's financial shell by the week's end.
The bankers worked day and night. In two days, a helicopter arrived,
carrying a cheerful and slightly drunk Kissur and a much more sober Shavash.
Kissur barged in the central hall where the bankers, having pulled an
all-nighter, were finishing the IPO prospectus.
"You are not asleep, too!" Kissur heartened. "Where did you ditch the
girls? Let's drink!"
And he banged a jar of expensive Inissa wine on the table next to the
printer, spitting out the financial projections. At this point, generally
phlegmatic Welsey, scared to hell by Kissur, demonstrated a true greatness
of the spirit.
"Kissur," he said, "I will drink with you only after you help me to
calculate the cash flow in the company if the embargo on the Gera trade is
enacted and the cargo flow decreases correspondingly."
Kissur was astounded. He was not able to calculate cash flows.
"C-cads!" he muttered drunkenly.
Bemish found him a girl in the village and returned to the office,
where Shavash was waiting for him. Shavash sat in the armchair next to a
window looking thoughtfully at the neglected garden.
"What's your price," Shavash asked.
"Eight fifty five for a share."
"Thirty four million total," Shavash noted. "What are your investment
obligations?"
"Sixty million. I am going to land the first ships in six months after
the construction starts."
"You don't have any experience building spaceports, do you?"
"I have experience involving professionals and setting up financial
contracts, Mr. Shavash. This company should start bringing in cash flow in
less than a year, otherwise it will go bankrupt."
"How are you going to finance the deal?"
"The banks provide ten million out of ninety four. This is a ten
percent loan, with the company property as collateral. Eighty four million
are financed through the high interest bonds issued by my company ADO and
placed by LSV on the intergalactic exchange market. Approximately four
million belong to me and my friends."
"So, you risk only four million of your money out of ninety four."
"I risk the other people's money and my own head." Shavash reclined in
the armchair.
"As far as I know, it's a standard way for buying the companies with
existing cash flow used to pay interest. While you are buying a hole that
you need to fill with piles of money."
"We will try to construct the contract's financial shell in such a way
that we won't pay anything this year. We are planning to issue some
zero-coupon bonds with a two year maturity time. It means," Bemish
explained, "that the bonds will be sold at a discount to their face value
and the difference between the selling bond price and the maturity price,
equal to the face value, will make a profit."
"Don't take me for Kissur, Terence," Shavash pointed out. "I know what
zero-coupon bonds are."
Bemish quacked in exasperation.
"We are also considering securities with the alternative coupon
payments - they can be paid with money or with the new bonds."
Shavash paused. Trumpet sounds suddenly entered the room through the
window - the shepherd was herding the cows back to the village.
"That's a risky affair, Mr. Bemish. I am not sure if your bond price
will get to 70% of its face value on the market. What will remain then, from
your so-called eight and a half dinars per share?"
Bemish swallowed. He knew that the official was all too correct.
"The securities will cost dinar for a dinar," Bemish said. "The IPO
prospectus has a condition, that the bond interest will be re-evaluated a
year after the issue so that the securities cost will be equal to their face
value."
Shavash paused.
"It's quite an unusual decision," he said finally.
"This decision will allow me to lower the cost of financing the deal by
three percent."
"What if, to the contrary, your securities price falls?"
"The price will only rise," Bemish said.
Terence Bemish was so sure of himself that he was not going to frighten
the investors by a predetermined ceiling of the adjustable rate. As it came
out afterwards, he had signed the death verdict to Assalah project.
Then, however, Shavash seemed to be positively impressed with Bemish's
words.
"There are Weian banks," he said, "that would be glad to take part in
this affair and buy your bonds on a big scale. However, the affair is quite
risky and you need to sweeten it up a bit. I suppose that the large
investors could have an opportunity to buy, besides the bonds, the stock
warrants for three years - ten shares for a dinar. You could reserve 20% of
the shares for this purpose."
Bemish raised his eyebrows slightly. Shavash's idea meant that the
warrant's buyer will be able to acquire the Assalah stocks at their current
price in three years. Bemish hoped that, in three years, the Assalah shares
will cost hundred times more.
"So, who will buy the warrants?" Bemish asked.
"The Weian banks which will acquire the bonds."
"Can you be more precise?"
"It will be I and my friends."
X X X
In an hour, Welsey and Shavash descended to the central hall. Bemish
stayed on the upper floor to take a shower and change his shirt - he had
broken a sweat. When he walked down, Kissur was sitting in the hall and
instructing two young Trevis' aides how to train a highwayman's horse, so
that it could find the road in the dark and didn't neigh in an ambush. The
bankers listened attentively. Their young and honest faces expressed a
sincere interest. The bankers were used to express a sincere interest to any
client. One could suppose that setting up ambushes among rocky gorges was
their primary occupation.
"If the path is rocky, you should wrap the hoofs with felt," Kissur
said.
He turned around to the sound of steps.
"Why are you so glum, Terence," he said in Weian, "and why is it all so
dirty?"
Kissur trailed his fingers in disgust down an expensive pink wood table
- a banker dropped pizza on the table, hurriedly eating it.
"You don't have a woman - that's the problem," Kissur noted. "Idari
says the same."
The headman, having noiselessly approached on the side, bowed and
quickly popped in.
"If the lord needs a maid, I have a good candidate - a small official's
daughter, a seventeen-year-old maiden, gentle as jasmine petals. Her father
was caught stealing and he is currently under an investigation. To collect
the money to butter the judges up and secure his daughter's future, he could
sell her for fifty thousand."
Bemish glanced quickly towards his colleagues - the conversation was in
Weian and they clearly didn't understand it.
"I'll think about it," Bemish said.
"There is nothing to think about," Kissur stated. "I'll check the girl
out and, if she is as good as this scoundrel claims, she is yours."
A printer rattled at the table nearby and the last financial
projections crawled out of it.
X X X
When the next night, deathly tired, Bemish walked up to his bedroom at
two o'clock, he found that he was not the only one there. In the bed, coiled
like a doughnut, a cute girl of about seventeen years age was sleeping
tranquilly. Bemish pulled the blanket off her and found her to be quite
naked - Adani probably brought her in the evening and he was afraid of
bothering the master, busy with calculations - the girl waited and waited
some more and fell asleep.
Once Bemish raised the blanket, the girl got cold - she woke up and
stared at Bemish with her eyes, large and round like the moon. She had small
budding breasts with tiny nipples, heavy thighs and long white legs. Her
pubic hair was shaved off. The girl looked at Bemish unabashedly, as if
unknown foreigners inspected her, naked, every day.
"What's your name," Bemish asked, mangling Weian words.
"Inis."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"Are you a maiden?"
"Of course, master. Mr. Kissur has chosen me himself."
Bemish jerked his eyebrows irritated.
"How did Kissur choose you?"
"He took me to Mrs. Idari," Inis said, "and the mistress said that you
needed a woman for your body and your house. She checked that I was a virgin
and that I cooked well, and she was satisfied."
When Idari's name was mentioned, Bemish's hands perspired suddenly. The
girl smiled and added teasingly.
"She was afraid of leaving me to Kissur. She is a very good wife. Do
you have a wife?"
Not answering her, Bemish released the blanket and it covered the girl
again. The thought about Jane destroyed all the pleasure. And also Idari! He
knew that, while caressing the Idari's gift, he would always think only
about the gift bearer.
"Put your clothes on. Ask Adini to find a bedroom for you."
"Won't we make love?" the frightened girl asked.
"No."
"Why did you buy me?"
"So, that somebody else wouldn't buy you."
It could be a sixty-year-old sadist in the district head rank, who
makes love to his secretaries in his office.
The girl was upset.
"If you made love to me," she said, "you would give me a new skirt and
earrings but you won't give me anything now."
"What skirt do you want?"
"I've just seen one at a fair - a long blue silk skirt, with a "dancing
flowers" embroidering and with three bands along the lap with pictures of
fishes, animals, and birds."
Bemish grinned. "All they want is money for the skirts," he thought
about Jane. "Blessed is the world, where they just ask openly for it."
He lay silently on the bed, in the pants and the jacket.
"Undress me," he ordered Inis.
The Fifth Chapter
Where Terence Bemish is being persuaded to drop out of Assalah stocks
auction while Shavash reminds the visitors that he is not familiar with the
financial term dictatorship.
One and a half tons of the equipment (out of the three tons ordered by
Bemish) arrived at the spaceport, and the Earthmen were spending days and
nights there.
On the third day, the precinct head herded the peasants to fix the road
with old concrete blocks so that the new White Villa master could drive his
iron barrel from the villa to the construction site.
The next week Bemish started to search for the missing equipment and
found it at Ravadan spaceport where it had been from the beginning. He had
to go to Ravadan.
Passing by the nearest village, Bemish noticed an unhitched wagon - the
peasants were gathering at the wagon and unloading the planks for the
assembling stage. It seemed to Bemish that the oldster in charge of the
construction was the same oldster, who played a god on the market in the
capital and tore apart the banknotes Bemish gave him.
An inspector in Ravadan claimed that the equipment containers were
emitting gamma radiation (it happened, rarely) and that they had to undergo
an expensive treatment. Bemish silently gave five thousand isheviks to the
inspector and, in half an hour, he was organizing the boxes being loaded in
a rented truck. The containers didn't emit any radiation whatsoever.
The boxes rode to Assalah, while Bemish stayed at the capital for a
reception given in the honor of the sovereign's ancestor, who had slept with
a mermaid three hundred and forty years ago.
There were very few women at the reception and Bemish's heart skipped a
beat when he saw Idari next to a lighted pool. She had a black dress with
sparkles and black shoes on. Two heavy braids entwining her head were held
by a butterfly shaped hairpin, strewn with the pink pearls, and a necklace
of the same pearls encircled her neck. She was talking to Shavash and
another man, unfamiliar to Bemish.
"Here you are, Bemish," Shavash turned around. "Let me introduce you -
the Empire's first minister, Mr. Yanik."
Bemish had been looking at Idari till then; he quickly turned to the
first minister. He was a neat senior man with a head, slightly flattened at
the temples, and grey eyes, more clever than intelligent. He was dressed
accordingly to Galactic fashion. Bemish didn't see anything striking in his
face and he immediately recalled the rumors about Yanik being a temporary
figurehead, a non-entity, put forth to the Emperor, till his patrons
couldn't settle on a compromise; the non-entity stuck to his position,
however, for a longer time, than the patrons had planned.
"Mr. Bemish would like to buy Assalah spaceport," Shavash said.
"Where will the money come from?"
"Mr. Bemish expects to collect the necessary money via the
high-interest bonds, underwritten on the world market by the well known LSV
bank."
At that point, a voice came from behind.
"It would be great, if Mr. Bemish explained where he will find the
money to pay the interest if the spaceport doesn't give two cents in the
first year."
Bemish turned around. Quite a number of people approached Yanik and the
words belonged to Giles.
"Mr. Giles' company," Shavash explained, "is also participating in the
auction,"
"The spaceport's owner," Bemish said, "will jump out of his pants to
find money. What will you do, however, besides buying the shares at one
price and offering them at the market at another? What will prevent you from
washing your hands?"
"That's right," another voice came in. "Your company's reputation is
not the best one."
"Mr. Rusby," Shavash introduced, "is another investment auction
participant."
Bemish and Giles turned around almost simultaneously.
"It's not for you to talk about reputation," Giles cried out.
"Who, exactly, is financing your offer?" Bemish was surprised.
Standing next to Rusby, the Gera envoy inclined his head slightly and
said.
"Several Gera banks support Mr. Rusby."
"Be careful," Giles grinned, "this man cheated the Galaxy investors out
of one and a half billion."
"The Securities Commission cheated them out of one and a half billion,"
Rusby objected. "Nobody can blame me in failing to pay what I promised, in
unsuccessful investments or in a pyramid scheme."
Giles went blue in the face.
"Is it true, Mr. Shavash," he said, "that the man who bankrupted two
hundred thousand investors, is participating in the Assalah auction?"
"Everybody is participating in the auction," the small official said.
"Including a rogue supported by the dictator's money?"
"I am not familiar with a financial term dictatorship," Shavash
replied.
Bemish looked around and noticed another witness of this ruckus -
Khanadar the Dried Date looked at him out of a corner. Bemish quietly came
to him and asked.
"So, how do you like the business world?"
Khanadar grinned.
"Once, twenty years ago," he said, "my comrades and I were coming back
from a not-so-successful trip. We had been going to pillage a town but when
we came in, the town had already been pillaged and the guys, who had
pillaged it, drove us away. We were famished since we didn't eat anything
for days. Even our horses croaked. Finally, we reached the coast and a town,
and the food and the loot in the town. Then, we got friendlier to each other
and began to hug and we had tried to keep a ten step distance, before, - to
avoid being eaten."
"I see. So, the Earthmen resemble you in this trip, before you found
this town."
"Eh, Terence-rey (Khanadar used a respectful Alom postfix.) We only
needed three rolls for a man not to worry about being eaten, but I still
haven't figured out how much an Earthman needs, not to eat another
Earthman."
X X X
The officials attended to Bemish extensively and soon the whole villa
was filled by their gifts - Bemish, however, had to make gifts of his own in
return.
Shavash send Bemish a painting as a gift. The painting was done in the
"thousand scales" style with spider web lines drawn on silk; a girl, feeding
from her hand a dragon that stuck its head out of the water, was depicted.
The girl with black hair and eyes, big like olives, resembled Idari and
Bemish hung it right above the table in his office. At their next meeting,
Shavash praised Bemish's taste and said that it was a fifth dynasty
painting, most probably, an excellent copy of a Koinna's masterpiece.
Bemish, somewhat galled that the gift was only a copy, inquired about the
original's location and Shavash, laughing, told him that the original was
stored in the palace and was fated to an eternal confinement, like the
Emperor's wives.
X X X
"However," Shavash added with a grin, "they now sell the palace
treasures left and right. I think that nobody reaps as much money as the
custodians of paintings and bowls; at least one third of everything that has
ever been painted and potted in by Eukemen is stored in the palace. Nobody
except the Emperor and the custodian in charge has access to the treasures,
there is absolutely no order there - steal as much as you want."
The headman heard this conversation and, arching his body in the usual
way, told Bemish that a far relative of his worked in the palace and would
love to meet the Earthman.
Bemish met him. The far relative appeared to be a small red nosed
official from the Department of Paintings, Tripods, and Bowls. The relative
showed Bemish color photographs of the astoundingly beautiful fifth dynasty
vessels and several paintings done in the "morning fog" style, most popular
at the Golden Sovereign times, and in the "thousand scales" style. The girl
and dragon painting was not there. Or, more precisely, it was there and not
one, but several of them - it was a popular sea prince tale - but none of
them belonged to Koinna's hand.
The official offered Bemish to sell anything the latter would like and
the price he asked for the fifth dynasty last survived silk paintings was
twice less than what any modern doodle, sold in Bonn's galleries, would
cost.
Bemish thanked the official and refused.
X X X
Kissur arranged for Bemish an audience in the Hundred Fields Hall.
Bemish left his car next to the Sky Palace wall and he was escorted
down the sanded paths and fragrant alleys.
In a light flooded hall, resembling a fragment from a fairy tale from
the sky, the officials whispered, dressed in ancient court clothes. In half
an hour, a silver curtain moved to the side - the Emperor Varnazd was
sitting on the amethyst throne. The Emperor was dressed in white, he had a
sad delicate face with strikingly made-up eyebrows, rising at the tips. It
looked like a silent single actor play. Bemish thought it to be a very sad
play.
The curtain soon moved back and the officials dispersed to attend their
own business.
Bemish crossed the fragrant gardens and exited the palace gate. The
square in front of the palace gasped with heat, two half-naked brats
explored a stinking street rut with their hands.
Bemish opened his car, foraged in the glove compartment and dished
several chocolate bars out to the brats. They tore the wrappers apart
sinking their rotting teeth into the chocolate.
"Hey," Bemish asked in his crappy Weian, "do you know what Earth is?"
"Of course. It's a place in the sky, where we'll go after we die, if we
behave ourselves and obey the Emperor."
Having turned the air conditioning on, Bemish sat in the car for a
while, looking at the silver beasts on the palace wall crest, remembering
the Hundred Fields Hall's immense luxury, the golden ceiling and jade
columns. "A very rich government of a very poor nation," he thought.
X X X
In two weeks, Bemish was at a party that the first minister threw to
celebrate his birthday. There was food and binge drinking and girls. There
was swimming in a night pond. There were various contracts made and papers
signed amidst the dishes with stuffed dates and the dishes with everything
that was raised in the sky and raised on the ground, these very papers would
normally involve huge bribes; the bribes, however, were still supposed be
paid later. There were also songs and poetry. A ministry of finance official
- was his name Tai? - took something resembling a lute and started playing
music and singing.
Then, a girl sang a song - it was a very lyrical song. Bemish was told
that an official named Andarz had written this song about twenty years ago.
He was the police minister and he had suppressed the Chakhar uprising,
having hung everybody who couldn't buy him off and letting off everybody who
could. Coming back to the capital, he wrote the cycle of his best poetry
about the four seasons. Bemish felt chills run down his spine, he leaned
over to Kissur and said.
"This is a great singer."
The girl finished the song and sat, by Kissur's order, on Bemish's
knees.
Afterwards, they started playing rhymes. Bemish, of course, didn't know
Weian good enough to compose a verse with a given rhyme or to finish a line.
But, somehow, he felt that he wouldn't do any better in English than in
Weian.
A street singer was brought in.
Bemish recalled how he was driving from the spaceport and asked his
interpreter - the guy had started as one of the Weians that washed dishes on
the ground - to stop the car. He wanted to look at the street puppeteer with
a crowd gathered around him on the curb. The interpreter answered that it
was "uncultured." Bemish asked what was "cultured," and he found out that it
was "cultured" for the whole neighborhood to attend trashy Hollywood and
Seilass movies.
Here, among the higher officials, nobody thought that listening to a
street singer was uncultured.
The street singer sang praise to the guests and they tossed money into
his hat and showed him to the kitchen. The officials started singing
themselves.
If only they hadn't sung! Then, everything would have been fine and it
would have just been corrupted bureaucrats' drunken debauchery. But they
sang so well! Bemish had a difficulty imagining state department officials
coming to their boss's party and singing so well - or signing such papers at
the same party.
Or was it all related? And will the poetry follow the corruption on its
way to extinction? Mr. Andars departed Chakhar, burned by him, for the
capital and composed his most beautiful poetry cycle about summer and fall.
He was probably very happy. He probably obtained a lot of booty on the
Chakhar trip.
Eight years later, Kissur and Andars found themselves on the different
sides of the same sword and Kissur had hung rebellious Andars and loved
listening to his poetry.
The next week, Bemish arranged a return feast at his villa.
During the dinner, Shavash kept glancing at Inis, who was serving the
guests. When she, having provided the guests with the sweets, walked by
Shavash with an empty tray, the official pulled her to himself suddenly and
seated her on his knees. Inis jumped off hurriedly, upsetting Shavash's cup
with her sleeve. Fortunately, there was no wine left in the cup.
Excusing himself, Shavash left earlier than the others. Bemish walked
him down.
Getting in his car, Shavash said.
"Inis is charming, Terence. They say you made her your secretary? She
is as smart as she is attractive, isn't she?"
"Yes."
"I will never believe it! Would you like a bet - I will take your
secretary in for two weeks, and if I am satisfied, I owe you fifty
thousand."
Bemish was silent.
"Mr. Bemish!"
"I can't do you this favor, vice-minister."
"Let me have her for one night, then. She can choose afterwards."
"Look, Shavash, have you asked Kissur to let you have Idari for a
night?"
"How can you compare it?" Shavash was offended. "Idari is a highborn
lady and what do you have here? A small briber's daughter that you bought
for thirty thousand - they cheated you by charging twice more than the
regular price."
"Get out of here, vice-minister," Bemish said, "before you hurt
yourself over my fist."
X X X
In the evening, after all the guests had left, Bemish walked upstairs
to the bedroom. Inis lay in the bed. Bemish sat on the blanket's edge and
the woman, propping herself up, started to unbutton his jacket and shirt.
"This official, Shavash, asked me to hand you over to him," Bemish
said. "At first, he hoped that I would offer you myself and, then, he
couldn't hold it any longer and just blurted it out. I almost trounced him."
Inis shuddered.
"Don't give me away to Shavash," she said. "He is a nasty man. He has
five wives and a whip for each one. He hangs out in red light streets at
night and locks himself with his secretaries during the daytime - a week ago
a secretary of his hanged himself - they said he embezzled too much. And how
he entertains himself in bawdy houses!"
Bemish reddened. His knowledg