‘So it is,’ said the First Guardian, checking to make sure the club’s other patrons were out of earshot. ‘And it is a little frank speaking which I thought we might engage in this morning, Abraham.’
‘I would expect nothing less from the firebrand author of
Carl ignored the jibe about his book — barely off the banned list for as long as his election as First Guardian. ‘The plain speaking is regarding your commercial concerns.’
‘Another donation, perhaps? I heard parliament was getting sticky again about your proposed labour reforms. I do try and set an example with the House of Quest.’
‘It is not your mill conditions which interest me — the long lines of prospective workers that queue up every time you open up a new concern speak well enough for those. It is your output I wish to discuss — more specifically, that of your airship works at Ruxley Waters.’
‘The Board of the Admiralty haven’t been complaining about the quality of the aerostats my mills turn out, have they, First Guardian?’
‘Hardly,’ replied Carl. ‘Your airwrights are the most proficient in Jackals, your airship designs the most advanced — as you well know from the size of your order-book with the navy.’ The politician jerked a finger towards the lady retainer standing discreetly by the door of the club’s dining room. ‘She is a free company fighter? From the Catosian city-states?’
‘Veryann? Yes, she is.’
‘Our nation has a long, regretful tradition of tolerating the rich and powerful keeping private armies under the fiction that they are fencibles, reserves salted away for times of war. I do not intend to be the first leader of parliament who starts tolerating private aerial navies too.’
‘It’s somewhat difficult to test new aerostat designs without celgas to float the airships we build,’ said Quest.
‘Jackals’ monopoly on celgas has kept our state safe for hundreds of years,’ replied the First Guardian. ‘Your test flights are a little too regular and the discrepancies between the gas barrels you are sent and what comes out of your airship hangars at the other end a little too wide of the mark.’
‘I shall have words with the yard’s overseers,’ said Quest.
‘Please do,’ said Carl. ‘We have our merchant marine to serve our trade and we have the Royal Aerostatical Navy to serve our defence. Your proving flights are one thing, but let me make this absolutely clear: there is no room for a third force in the air above Jackals.’
Quest chortled. ‘I am not a science pirate, Ben. I understand there are subtler ways to ensure reform for our people than standing an airship off the House of Guardians and dropping fin-bombs on the heads of your parliamentarians until you legislate for harmony among the nations and prosperity for the deserving poor.’
‘Then you understand well. Our nation is surrounded by envious tyrannies that covet our people’s wealth and would crush the freedoms that we enjoy; parliament’s backbenches are packed with Heartlanders, Purists, Roarers and Middle Circleans who would all love to see the first Leveller government for a century fail, and as for you …’
‘Mercantilism has always been a competitive business, First Guardian. The number of enemies that are out there circling me is one of the few ways I still keep score.’
A solicitous member of the club’s staff came over, offering the two men a glass of jinn. The Strandswitch Club was traditional that way: brandy still out of fashion after the attempted invasion of Jackals by its neighbour, Quatershift, a few years earlier. Benjamin Carl took the glass and swirled the alcohol around the rim as if trying to read the future in its pink eddies.
‘We all operate within limitations, Abraham. I thought I could achieve so much in this position — but between the bureaucrats of Greenhall, the other parties and the infighting among my own Levellers, it seems I am only ever allowed to achieve one tenth of what I set out to accomplish.’
‘Now that I understand,’ said Quest. ‘After all, look what those jiggers did to me.’
‘Yet, even so, you still seem to prosper. However much they trim your sails.’
Quest filled his nostrils with the scent of the jinn. ‘Trim my sails, or confiscate them? I see things differently, Ben. To some that makes me a genius, to others a lunatic and a fool. Succeeding in my business concerns, now, that is merely a game.’
‘One you play so well,’ noted the politician. ‘So well, indeed, they changed the rules of the game just to fit around you.’
‘Time for a new game then, Ben?’
‘Let me tell you something.’ The First Guardian leant in close. ‘The establishment dislikes us both intensely, but with me, they at least know what to expect. Anyone with the wit to read
‘A little mischief,’ said Quest. ‘I just need a little mischief to keep my mind fresh, to keep the black dog at bay. Everything is so flat and grey without my miserable few distractions.’
‘I understand that,’ said Ben Carl. ‘Just make sure your airwrights know you intend to restrict your game to the free market.’
‘Has someone been telling tales on me, First Guardian?’
Carl pointed up towards the ceiling. ‘An unattributed source. A note dropped down to land on my windowsill in parliament. You need to be careful, Abraham.’
Abraham Quest tapped the side of his nose. ‘I quite understand. Enough said.’
Carl watched his wealthy friend departing across the clubroom. For the industrial lord’s sake, Carl hoped Abraham Quest would be true to his word. Because if he was not, the statuesque mercenary he had watching his expensive back would not be nearly enough to protect him. Not if the Court of the Air came calling on him in judgement.
The butler returned to refill his jinn glass. His black club livery was barely enough to disguise the fact that the servant was really an agent of the political police. A g-man. Ben Carl was still not used to the fact these dogs were his hounds now, rather than part of a pursuit baying behind his own heels.
‘Do you think he will listen to you, sir?’
‘The cleverest gentleman in Middlesteel?’ sighed the First Guardian. ‘How should I know?’
‘We still do not know what he is up to at the Ruxley Waters airworks.’
‘Airships are just toys to him, like everything else,’ said Carl. ‘Toys to be made to go further, faster, higher.’
‘They are the Royal Aerostatical Navy’s toys, sir. He only gets to build them.’
‘He is a good man,’ said Carl. ‘A humane man. Half of our land’s mill workers eat better and work fewer hours because of the standards set by the model factories of the House of Quest. He has done more for the people of Jackals than I have managed to achieve with my factory acts. He is a patriot.’
The police agent refilled the politician’s glass and gave a short bow. ‘As are we all, sir, as are we all.’
Chivery did not like having the new boy foisted upon him like this. It was dangerous enough making a living as a smuggler in Jackals, rolling the dice that Greenhall’s revenue agents didn’t have the smuggler’s favourite bay outside Shiptown under observation at night, looking for u-boats like theirs cutting the line. Dangerous enough, without having some green young ’un like Tom Gashford given into his care to nursemaid. A boy who talked too much when he should have been quiet and said nothing at all when he should have been talking. But it was understandable that the skipper of the
Young Tom seemed convinced that their proximity to the cursewall would lead the redcoats down upon them. Since the attempted invasion, the Frontier Foot had been reinforced all along the Jackelian border, from Hundred Locks in the north to the Steamman Free State in the south. But the tremblers that the redcoat engineers had burrowed into the ground were for detecting sappers’ tunnels deep enough to cut under the cursewall, not designed
