"I want you all to remember him," he went on slowly, "so that you'll know him anywhere. He'll grow up in the next few years, but you're always to recognize him at a glance. You're to take good care of him, future Vice-Chairmen. Unless I tell you otherwise, you're to guard him with your lives; at any time, in any place, under any situations you see him."
He paused to smile again. His voice lightened and became playful.
"That's because he's more valuable than any of you—or all of you, together," he said. "You'll remember that, as loyal trainees should. So, you'll guard him at all times, whenever it's necessary; and if I tell you to get him for me, you'll go get him. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman." It was a chorus of voices from the men.
"Good," said Dahno. He turned to Bleys. "There should always be at least one of them here. There're others who aren't here now that you'll have to meet in the future. Meanwhile, we'll leave them to their well-earned relaxation; and I'll show you around the place."
He strode ahead through the room. Bleys went with him, feeling the eyes of all of the men in the room upon him. It was not a pleasant sensation. He had more the feeling of an enemy being pointed out as a possible target, than of a valuable friend to be taken care of, as Dahno had implied.
They passed through a further door that slid open as they approached, and slid shut again behind them. They were in a room which seemed to be a kitchen with an entrance to its left into what was either a large boardroom or a large dining room. Dahno paused to wave at the room with its long table through the open doorway.
"The room in which my future Vice-Chairmen practice being Vice-Chairmen," he said to Bleys, "we needn't spend any time there. Come along and I'll show you first through their private quarters. They've all got a room apiece, with private bath, back here. In fact, this arrangement takes up this whole top floor—"
As he talked, they were walking down a central corridor, with open doorways on either side showing rooms in which the bed had been made. Within each, things were more or less neatly arranged, but that was as much as Bleys could say for them.
In fact, trained now as he was by his cleanings and scrubbings at Henry's, Bleys found the place very shoddily housekept. There was no lack of dust in corners or on sills, which snowed that cleaning was either careless or infrequent; and overall, although the rooms had the best of furniture and other appointments, they also had a slovenly look.
But Dahno was already leading them through a further door into a very large room indeed that rose up the height of at least another floor above their heads. This was clearly necessary, for it was set up like a gymnasium. It had exercise mats on the floors and several climbing ropes hung from the ceiling. One corner of the floor space was taken up by a swimming pool that was not as small as Bleys had first thought", judging it in relationship to the whole open area.
"Here my trainees exercise," said Dahno. He was still walking forward. "I've got a number of people coming in to train them in various skills. People from all the other worlds who're willing to teach."
He led the way along the length of the gymnasium and through a further sliding door into what was obviously a lecture hall or classroom. Here, at last, he stopped. Lights had gone on overhead and in the walls automatically when they had stepped through; although there was no one else there.
"Here," he said, "is where the other part of their education takes place. Primarily, there're several teachers from our mother's world, from the Exotics, to teach them. This is most necessary; because eventually, when they're full Vice-Chairmen, they're going to go out to other worlds and set up their own groups, in which each one of those you just saw will become a local Chairman and recruit his own Vice-Chairmen. What do you think of it all, Bleys?"
"Those men in the front room," said Bleys, "they're all from this world?"
"Oh yes, all but one or two of them," answered Dahno, "but you could hardly tell it on those who aren't now. In addition, they're all hand-picked, by me. You'll learn about that as the years go on. The great thing I want you to get from this little visit now, is that they're learning to be leaders. So they can spread the word—my word. Do you understand yet, Bleys?"
"Only partly," answered Bleys.
Dahno laughed.
"Good!" he said, and then his voice became unusually serious. "I want you to make up your own mind about this. Keep your eyes open and come to your own conclusions. And remember, you've got to grow up yet. That gives us a few years for you to mull things over."
He turned abruptly about.
"All right," he said, "I've shown you this place, let's get on to other things."
He led the way back out through the various rooms—the men in the front room were on their feet again as he came through, but he waved them back down. He led Bleys through the door and they descended in the elevator, back to the hovercar.
"Now," Dahno's voice was cheerful and openly friendly, "we'll go to my place. I think you'll find at least one thing there that suits you better than the place you were just in."
He drove out of the neighborhood they had been in and into another mat was completely different. Here, it was all high-rise apartments, but these were obviously the kind of buildings that housed individuals and couples and families with wealth. The hovercar ducked down a ramp into a basement underneath one of them; and they took an elevator up several floors to a landing, richly carpeted in midnight blue; and with flowering plants around the walls everywhere but in front of a tall, church-like window. This gave on a small glimpse of a wooded area, so it seemed that they had left the city behind entirely and were looking out into open forest.
Once more Dahno used a key to let them into a different set of rooms. They stepped into a bright apartment, the entry way lit by a skylight right over its head. Windows, seen through the large lounge area straight ahead of them, completely filled one wall. To the right there seemed to be a sort of conservatory, filled with plants—and oddly enough, with chirping of birds coming cheerfully from it.
To their left was a hall that gave on a good-sized, although not enormous dining room that could possibly seat twelve people; and a glimpse of further rooms off the hallway beyond. The carpeting here was dull gold and unusually deep and soft, under a white ceiling, pierced here and there with skylights that let the sunlight in.
The walls were a sunlight yellow, with a picture of some outdoor scene hanging here and there. Listening closely, Bleys thought he could now pick up the tinkle of water, as of a stream or small waterfall from the conservatory area.
All in all, it was remarkably like the reproductions Bleys had seen of the sort of place that might be found on either of the two Exotic Worlds.
"Well?" demanded Dahno. "Do you see what I meant when I said there'd be at least one thing you'd like?"
Bleys knew instantly what he meant. It was not merely the Exotic flavor, even over and above the general luxury and good taste of the apartment. It was also the fact that it was spotlessly clean—the walls, floor, ceiling, every surface within sight. Everything gleamed as if it had been dusted or polished just a few moments before. Henry's house could have been no cleaner.
"Yes, I do," said Bleys.
He had come here, he realized now, with a chip on his shoulder, ready to resent whatever Dahno showed him. Now, that chip fell away. This was a pleasant and attractive place to live in; and there was no denying it. If it reflected the attitudes of its inhabitant, he had been more mistrustful of Dahno than he should have been.
"I like your apartment, Dahno," he told his massive brother.
He felt the light touch of one of the huge hands on his shoulder.
"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Dahno. His voice was serious again. "Come along, then, we'll have something to eat in someplace other than a restaurant."
Behind a false wall in the dining room that slipped into the floor at the touch of a marker was a small, neat, automatic kitchen that apparently seemed capable of providing just about anything. In th
is case it provided sandwiches and drinks—a very good imitation of the New Earth orange juice, to which Bleys had become accustomed in the years he was there, and some sort of dark ale for Dahno; plus a plate of little sandwiches—all done within about three minutes.
"Here's to celebrate the gathering of the family," said Dahno, lifting his glass. "If you were a little older, Bleys, we'd both be having drinks on it. Not that I care whether you drink now or later or whenever, but this week while you're with me I want your wits about you and I don't want your brain muddled with alcohol, even a little."
Bleys smiled internally but kept his face straight. He had discovered, more than a few years back with his mother, that for some reason he was particularly resistant to the alcohol in most of the alcoholic liquors. Not that he couldn't get drunk—he had experimented and done so; but it had taken a remarkable amount for a boy who had then been barely six years old. This was a piece of knowledge which it might be advantageous to keep to himself.
"I just made us a snack," said Dahno, "because we'll be eating dinner out later. This will just see us through until about then."
They ate, Dahno dumped dishes and all down the disposal slot and they left the apartment.
"I'll get a key for you at the office," Dahno said, as he closed the door to the apartment behind them, "since you'll be staying here the next few days. We're on our way to the office now."
They went back to the hovercar.
Bleys had wondered about the source of Dahno's income; but he was too wary of Dahno's ability to do any subtle probing for clues. He had imagined a number of things; but none of them had approached what they actually entered, which was a suite in an office building. A bronze plaque simply said Dahno Ahrens, Investment Counselor on the heavy, dark-wood door.
They stepped into another office in which two women were
working behind automated desks with what seemed quite a stack of paperwork.
"Anything important?" Dahno asked them. They both shook their heads. He led Bleys on through a grass-green-carpeted room, which was evidently completely buried in the interior of the building, for it had no windows at all, and into a further room. This one was much larger, with a single large, black, wood desk; and some very comfortable padded float-chairs about it. One, built to Dahno's size and padded accordingly, sat behind the desk. This room by contrast had windows on two sides of it.
"What do you think, Bleys?" Dahno asked when they had stepped into it.
"You must be successful," Bleys said. "What's an investment counselor? I mean—what do you do as an investment counselor?"
Dahno laughed.
"I give good advice," he said. "And usually the reason is because I know the advice is correct. Oh, not all the time. Maybe twenty-five percent of it, I'm guessing or estimating. But otherwise I know. What would you do with an office like this, Bleys?"
Bleys looked around the huge office, which had more floor space than all of Henry's house.
"I'd turn it into a research center," he answered honestly.
Dahno smiled. He beckoned Bleys, led him across to one of the blank walls of the room, in which there was a door, which slid aside as they came to it. They stepped through it and Bleys, following him in, checked, disbelievingly.
There was a whole section of book readers and scanning devices; and the rest of the space was taken up in shelves and compartments to hold books, in both rod and disk form.
"You see what I mean, when I say that most of the time I know that the answer is right," said Dahno. "Here's where I find out the answers, a lot of the time. Maybe you can see now why I'm so interested in you, Little Brother."
Bleys hesitated. He was intrigued and his curiosity had him by the back of the neck. He was also aware that Dahno knew this, and that his older half-brother was deliberately withholding information to lead him on.
A hidden shiver passed for a second through Bleys. Dahno was laying down an attractive trail to follow; but most surely—and Dahno had all but admitted this himself—one that would lead to a situation from which the younger brother would have no escape. Still, the curiosity fought in Bleys—and won.
"What kind of people do you advise?" he asked.
Dahno's face broke into a broad smile.
"People in all walks of life," he said. He looked at a clock on the wall of the room they were in. "And it's just about time for us to start for where we can meet some of them, now."
CHAPTER 12
They went to a restaurant.
But this was different from any of the restaurants Dahno had taken Bleys to before. The others had been comfortable to luxurious, but in all other ways, small, discreet and away from the general center of town.
This was a very large restaurant, expensive to the point of being ostentatious, with four-story-high windows along one side, framed by heavy swag drapes. A pool about half the size of an Olympic swimming pool, but divided into grottoes and other divisions by ornamental sculptures or architecture, held variform fish, the embryos of which must have been imported at very high cost indeed. They were up to a foot or more in length, of many different brilliant colors, and swam lazily among the rich surroundings.
It was the last sort of restaurant Bleys would have expected to find on one of the Friendly Worlds, according to his picture of what the Friendlies had been before he came here, and the point of view he had picked up during the last months out at Henry's farm.
Rather, it was the kind he would have expected on New Earth or Freiland, or one of the other, non-specialized worlds; where a great deal of commerce and manufacturing was done and there were a great many people with credits to throw around. People who enjoyed throwing it in places like this; where they could show off.their ability to afford the high prices.
Dahno was recognized as they came up to the entrance of the dining room itself, and led without a word to a table; a round table with a clear, transparent top that could seat at least six people.
"Sit tight," said Dahno to Bleys, "order what you want from the waiter, but brace yourself for a long session. Eating and drinking here is just incidental."
The waiter was already with them and Dahno ordered another of the dark beers. But Bleys, to play safe, ordered another fruit juice. He was interested to find listed on the menu not only the local fruit juices but others listed as imported. They would not, of course, be imported. What they were, were clever imitations of imported fruit juices, like the New Earth orange juice he had drunk back at Dahno's apartment. For the moment he decided to be cautious, follow Dahno's lead, sit quiet and see what happened.
They were not alone more than five minutes before a tall, thin, rather elegantly-dressed man, in what looked like his late sixties, sat down at their table without asking for permission. A glass of some blue drink fizzed in his hand.
"Well, we're up against a brick wall," he said to Dahno, sipping at his drink. He paused to look doubtfully at Bleys.
"You know my rule," said Dahno. "Anyone sitting at this table is safe to talk in front of. If they weren't I'd have sent them away when you sat down."
"If you say so," said the elderly man, still doubtfully. "Well, I've worn ray feet off and I've talked to every delegate in the Chamber and I don't think we're going to get 417B."
"Who's holding out?" Dahno asked.
"There's only five of them. The Five Sisters—you know them. And each one of them, on this subject, is simply a closed mind. They want off-world trade for Association and they're going to have off-world trade; no matter whose pocket it hurts here. They all want profits, every one of them, but they see a removal of restriction as God's intent—" He shrugged helplessly.
"—I thought you might be able to think of something," he said.
"Such as?" Dahno asked him.
"I don't know," the elderly man shrugged again, "you're the Golden Ear . . ."
"All right," said Dahno, "I'll think about it. It's possible I can think of a way to swing them over. If I come up with anything I'll get in touch with yo
u."
"Thank you," said the elderly man. He got up and left.
Almost immediately his place was taken by a short, solidly-bodied man in his thirties with black hair and a pugnacious face with bright, brown eyes. He was not carrying anything to drink and he stared hard at Bleys without saying a word.
"You know my rules," said Dahno.
The brown-eyed man turned his face abruptly back to Dahno.
"Yes, sure," he said jerkily; and it occurred to Bleys that he was possibly not so much pugnacious as unsure of himself. He continued in the same jerky speech.
"I think they're out to get me," he said to Dahno.
"Who?" asked Dahno.
"Bombay," he answered.
Bleys looked at the man with interest. The only Bombay he knew of was a city back on Old Earth. And he knew nothing more about that except that it was a port in the south of the East Indian peninsula. He assumed that it must be the name of someone local, or some local group or company.
"What makes you think so?" asked Dahno.
"Things have been happening," said the brown-eyed man. "Someone's been selling Core Tap shares heavily this last week."
"I can't stop that," Dahno grinned. "Nobody can."
"No, but you can find out who's behind it, can't you?" said the brown-eyed man.
"Perhaps," said Dahno, "if anyone is."
"Take my word for it," said the brown-eyed man, rising, "somebody is!"
He went off in turn.
There were a few moments of breathing space during which Bleys and Dahno had the table to themselves.
"Who are the Five Sisters?" Bleys asked his brother.
Dahno's face, which had sobered, got its large smile on as it turned back to look at him.
"Four old men and one woman," he said, "representatives of some of the larger church groups on Association."
"So that just now was a matter of politics, was it?" asked Bleys.
"Do you think so?" asked Dahno—and just at that moment, somebody else sat down. This time it was a woman in her forties, striking-looking if you did not—as Bleys did, having learned from his mother—-know what high-priced skin management and makeup could do. She ignored Bleys completely.
Young Bleys - Childe Cycle 09 Page 12
