Dead and Gone

The phone was answered on the third ring. By a crisp-sounding young woman who spoke unaccented English. Aryan English.

“Chancellor of Darcadia’s office. How may I direct your call?”

“To Chancellor Konig himself, please. This is W. Allen Preston. I understand he is expecting my call.”

“Yes, sir. Please hold while I connect you.”

The connection took a lot longer than it would to push a button. No surprises yet.

“This is Chancellor Konig,” a voice said. Not one that I recognized. I brushed the dark fluttering wings of panic off my mind, staying focused. Would I really know his voice after all these years, anyway? And with the bridged- through connections …?

“Chancellor, this is Allen Preston, calling as agreed. I am honored to speak with you.”

“The honor is mine, I assure you,” he said. “So I trust you will forgive my bluntness, sir. Before we get to specifics, to the entire authentication process”—a window opened in my mind: Authentication. Lune’s own word. What if? I slammed that window shut, focusing hard on him saying, “…  we would need to know the size of your contemplated … investment.”

“I am prepared to invest twenty-five million dollars,” I told him, my tone conveying that, while I respected such an amount, I wasn’t in awe of it.

“You do understand that, given the fledgling nature of Darcadia as an international entity, we cannot, at present, accept—”

“The investment would be liquid,” I cut him off, trying for an old man’s imperious timbre. A rich old man’s. “The twenty-five million would be in American dollars only as a point of reference. It could be delivered in any currency you select, via wire transfer.”

“Yes, I see we understand each other. And you would expect … what, precisely, for your investment?”

“The opportunity—no, the guarantee—to live as I choose, exactly as I choose, without fear of government intrusion. Any government’s.”

“Surely that sum of money could buy you those same—”

“Forgive an old man’s abruptness,” I cut him off again. “But all such options have been explored, thoroughly. And rejected on two grounds: First, I wish to be a participant in government, not a mere guest. This is because I will not tolerate being an extortion victim for various ‘taxes’ of an ever-escalating variety. Second, the most accommodating governments are inherently unstable, and I cannot risk a change in power placing me at risk, especially as I will not use air transport of any kind.”

“I understand. And on Darcadia—”

“I assume the third consideration is not necessary to mention, despite its being inherent in my requirements.”

“I am sure not,” he said, smoothly, refusing to take offense at my constant interruptions. “Waterfront property is available, with sufficient dockage constructible to accommodate ships of any size. But I believe ambiguity is a potential source of dissatisfaction between associates and, thus, should be eliminated. So, as to your other specifications, if you will enlighten me …”

“Certainly, sir. Those ‘accommodating’ governments of which I spoke are run by mud people. I will not spend my final years in a country controlled by animals. You describe Darcadia, if I have read your prospectus correctly, as a country which would be openly racialist in its orientation.”

“Darcadia is a sovereign area. As such, it is free to—”

“Are you deliberately evading my question?” I snapped at him.

“Mr. Preston, my apologies if you took that to be my intent. Let me match your bluntness with my own. Non- Aryans will not be permitted on Darcadian soil.”

“Ah, that is unfortunate,” I said, setting my own hook.

“Sir?”

“I have certain … servants, if you will, who are not Aryans. They are my … preference. Am I communicating sufficiently?”

“You are,” he said, returning serve effortlessly. “My apologies. I should have explained that the prohibition is against citizenship and tourism. But Darcadians who enjoy a certain … status would be free to operate their private estates entirely at their own discretion. Is that satisfactory?”

“It … sounds so,” I said, centering myself for the bluff that the whole thing hinged on. “But I would need to see who I would be dealing with as well as the specifics of the deal. After all, what I would be investing in is, to some extent, intangible … at least for the present. But what I would be delivering is quite tangible. So, if you can come to my estate on Key West, at your convenience of course, we could finalize—”

“My regrets,” he said. “This would be, frankly, impossible. News of Darcadia has attracted considerable government interest. And I am, at least on paper, an American citizen. Neither I nor my Cabinet can subject ourselves to the jurisdiction of—”

“Yes, yes,” I cut him off, impatience dominating my voice. “All right. You pick our meeting place, then. But let me caution you: I will not fly. I simply don’t trust airplanes. So, if it is a considerable distance, be prepared to wait until I can make the journey by ship.”

“You are being more than reasonable, sir. Could I ask you to call back in twenty-four hours? I will have an answer for you then. A satisfactory answer, you have my word on that.”

“Twenty-four hours from right now? Or at eight-ten my time tomorrow night?”

“You are a very precise man.” He chuckled appreciatively. “Let us say eight-ten once more. Agreed?”