charge of the capital criminals. He, however, thanked him for the signature and left. Although, Kissur did take him to one of the city's most famous thief's taverns and he was welcome there — Bemish learned later that if he ambled in this tavern without a pass, he wouldn't have just been killed there — the tavern's guests would have been fed his body in a soup — that was their cute way of getting rid of the corpses.
That day, Bemish was in the finance ministry, at Shavash's. Entering his office, he stumbled upon a pale upset man, dressed in standard clothing but having soft Weian manners.
Shavash led him into the garden, where fountains and birds chirped, and ordered a table with appetizers. Somehow the conversation unnoticeably drifted to Idari, Kissur's wife. Shavash said that if not for Idari, Kissur would have smashed his head long time ago.
'He loves her a lot,' Shavash said, sighing. Three months ago, he feasted the people at her naming day, and he spent three million.'
He paused and added.
'Where do you think Kissur gets so much money if he doesn't take bribes and doesn't do any business?'
'It's the tax police business and not mine, to know where he gets the money,' Bemish said. 'And it's the sovereign's business, since he bequests him an oil well or a manor every month.'
Shavash waved his hand and started drinking tea. In five minutes, he suddenly said.
'Do you know the man who left just before you came in? He is the Damass insurance company director. It was robbed yesterday. They took twenty million dinars in cash.'
Bemish was surprised — newspapers published nothing about the robbery.
'Why did they have so much money in cash?' Bemish inquired.
'That's exactly the problem,' Shavash sighed. 'That's the question, who is the company going to pay such a sum of money to — on a holiday evening?'
He paused.
'It will not appear in the newspapers. But the company was indeed robbed.'
'Will it appear to the police?'
'Yes,' Shavash said, 'since our police — if asked — will not inquire why the company needed this money.'
Bemish finished his coffee and asked.
'Listen, Shavash, are you trying to tell me that Kissur robs banks at nights or that you, at least, will do your best to convince the sovereign of it?'
'Come on, Mr. Bemish,' the official was taken aback, 'why did you…' And suddenly he tousled his hair. 'He is a madman! If he is passing a house on fire, he will rush inside to get a child out and, if he is passing a house that's not burning, he will set it aflame.'
Bemish bit his lip. The official was lying gently and consciously but he was correct on one point — Kissur despised bankers unflappably and he would approve of a bank robber. The words 'order,' 'debt,' and 'commitment to the sovereign' were never far from his lips but Bemish knew perfectly well, that this adherent of order lived his life in such a way that he far outperformed any anarchist and rebel buff. Kissur wouldn't rob a bank for money but the sovereign's favorite could easily take the money for fun and throw it in the next canal.
In the evening, when Bemish dropped by the hotel, yearning for the food of his childhood and hoping to get something other than a marinated jellyfish or a guinea pig burger, somebody called him. Bemish turned around and recognized Richard Giles and another Richard — MacFarlein — the IC people.
'Drop it,' Giles said.
'What?'
'Drop this project. You won't get anything out of it, anyway. Do something else — build the business center instead of Kaminsky.'
Bemish felt his face paling with rage. It looked like Giles has already picked up the local officials' manners.
'I,' Bemish said, 'have invested too much in this business to just drop it.'
'How much have you invested,' Giles smiled. 'IC will pay your expenses.'
'How is that? Since when do the private companies pay the competitors' expenses?'
'You will not win this auction,' Giles said.
Here, McFarlein spoke softly.
'Mr. Bemish,' he said, 'why do you need this planet? Bribers, criminals, heretics, zealots, and now, terrorists. Have you heard that yesterday an Earthman was shot in Chakhar — he owned several plants. By the way, the Chakhar governor's son did the shooting — a Sorbonne graduate, an anarcho-communist or something like that. Another lad, an Earthman, was with him… 'We will instigate a full-scale terror against the Earth exploitators, weed the bribers out and build the Crystal Palace on Weia afterwards, and erect two monuments in front of the palace — for Karl Marx and for the sovereign Irshahchan.'
Bemish stared at him dumbfounded. 'Uh-huh,' a thought passed his mind, 'isn't it the same lad who came with Ashidan?'
And Giles cast a transparent eye and delivered.
'Yeah. Aren't you afraid to be shot by a heretic, a local or an imported one?'
Bemish took Giles by a button and said.
'Listen, Giles, have you seen how Kissur casts a spear?'
'What does a spear have to do with it?' Giles was astonished.
'Kissur just casts a spear and the spear runs through a hefty birch all the way. And today one guy told me that I should keep away from Kissur since he robbed caravans and another hinted that I should keep away from Kissur since he robbed banks. And though Kissur doesn't rob banks — I am sure, you know, that if I pass our conversation to Kissur, and I'll do it, and I am killed afterwards — then Kissur will kill you, Mr. Giles and you, Mr. McFarlein. And he will assuredly kill you — nobody has heard yet about Kissur wanting to kill somebody and failing.'
Giles stepped back. Clearly, he didn't like all that much the words about the spear and the birch.
Richard Giles walked upstairs to his room still under the impression from the conversation in the hall. Whistling through his teeth, he dialed the personal Shavash's line number — no secretaries — and, in two seconds, he said in the receiver.
'This son of a bitch, Bemish — are you still going to admit him to the auction?'
'I guarantee you,' Shavash replied, 'that this man is absolutely harmless. Everything will happen accordingly to our plan.'
'Harmless?' Giles screamed. 'Do you know that half of his inquires on Earth deal with IC? Do you know what he told Kissur?'
'I know,' Shavash said ironically, 'if I am not mistaken, you got the taped conversation from me.'
'Damn it! Yes, that was you. Anyway, do you think that's fine? What if Kissur repeats these words to the sovereign? Where will we be then?'
'What do you want?'
'Take action.'
'I will not take any action,' Shavash said, 'causing your newspapers to write that the Empire is an unsafe place for foreign investors. If you take such an action, you will not get even the tiniest piece of Assalah, not even the size of a melon seed. Have I made myself clear?'
'Very clear,' Giles muttered.
'You have no reasons to be nervous,' Shavash said.
'No reasons? What if he just buys the damn company?'
'You will have to offer a bit more for the shares. Nine point one dinar, at least. You have to agree that I just can't give the company away to an investor that paid twice less for it. Everything has a limit.'
'Son of a bitch,' Giles said, slamming the receiver down. 'He is just using this Bemish to squeeze more money out of us. Nine point one! How can I get a clearance for this money?'
