Insider ви-6

by Julia Latynina

  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.

  X X X

  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.

  X X X

  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?"

  "No problem," his companion said. "We can use an alternative approach and deflate his ego meanwhile."

  "Have you heard, what he said?"

  "I heard it. I said — a totally alternative approach. Who finances this Bemish guy? Trevis…"

  Bemish left the hotel for the city. He spent some time in the temple that he had visited with Kissur and descended to the tavern. A young man met him in the tavern.

  The young man offered to sell him twenty thousand Assalah shares at six hundred a piece.

  They bargained a bit and Bemish bought the shares for five hundred eighty.

  Bemish silently pulled the checkbook out and tore of a check that was already filled with the correct number. The young man looked at him respectfully and said.

  "How did you know what price we would agree on?"

  Bemish grinned. He had three checkbooks in his pockets and all of them had the first check filled out — the other two checks Bemish would feed to the garbage burner in an hour.

  Bemish signed the check and gave it to the youth.

  "Would you like to eat?" Bemish asked.

  "I'd rather go."

  "Hold on. How did you get the shares?"

  "They are not mine, they belong to my uncle."

  "How did your uncle get them?"

  "He bought them."

  "Why did he buy these shares in particular?"

  "He bought a lot of securities."

  "Why did he decide to sell them?"

  "He needs money urgently. He got sent to prison."

  "Why?"

  The youth pointed at his basket.

  "Because of the Assalah shares?"

  "The investigator was asking him about these shares at the interrogation. He hinted my uncle that he would let him go if my uncle gives the shares to a higher official that would like to acquire them."

  "Shavash?"

  "Don't say it out loud. It works this way, Mr. Earthman — while a word is in your mouth — you are its master, and when the word is out of your mouth — it is your master."

  "Why didn't your uncle give the shares to the official?"

  "He went nuts, when he heard it," the youth said. "He said that he would give these shares to a man that can kick the official in the butt."

  "He could sell them cheaper, then."

  "No. The jailers take too much. Good food in the jail costs more than in the best restaurant, you know. Also, very strict orders concerning my uncle have been given and the jailers charge him a higher price for being benevolent."

  "Oh, well," Bemish said. "It could be worse, two million for half a percent."

  The youth hesitated.

  "It's actually," he said, "no more than twenty five hundredth of a percent."

  "Whaaat?!"

  "Don't you know that? Half a year ago, when the share price was lower than the moon in a well, Shavash secretly issued additional shares and distributed them among his friends."

  "Secret shares?!!"

  "What's wrong with that?"

  "Nothing, this is first time in my life when I stumbled upon this particular type of securities manipulation. And how many shares h
ave been issued?"

  "I don't know. Some people say that it was a million and a half, some people say that it was two million."

  "Who says that? Where could I find this out?"

  "Promise not to refer to my uncle's name."

  "I don't know his name, how can I refer to it?"

  "Still, promise it."

  "Ok."

  "I think that the Assalah district chief judge has these shares and knows a lot."

  X X X

  Bemish returned to Kissur's villa late at night. He almost always stopped there now when he visited the capital. He wanted to see Idari more often.

  A phone call woke Bemish in the middle of the night.

  "Yes?"

  "Terence?"

  Bemish almost jumped up. The LSV director was talking to him from Earth.

  "We have a great offer for you," Trevis said, "the Union Disk company. They make laser disks. Get here. It can be bought."

  "I am working on Assalah."

  "It's not a promising deal. We will not finance it."

  Bemish fell apart inside.

  "Ronald! You guaranteed it…"

  "We will pay you the forfeit."

  "I don't need the forfeit, I need Assalah."

  "Get back to Earth," Trevis said, "and we will talk about Union Disk."

  "What should I do with the Assalah shares? I bought 17 %!!!"

  "Sell them. It's your profession."

  "If you don't finance this deal, I will find another company."

  "You will not find another company, Terence, because no other company lets you on their doorstep. You are nothing, Terence. You are a greenmailer with twenty million dollars in your pocket. We made you. Nobody else needs you. You are a financial pirate. I will be waiting for you tomorrow in my office, at fifteen thirty. If you don't get stuck in traffic, you will make it."

  And Ronald Trevis put the receiver down.

  X X X

  Bemish turned the light on, put the clothes on and sat at the table. He sat there for a while, till he heard the door creaking. Bemish turned around

  — Kissur and Khanadar the Dried Date walked in. Khanadar looked quite dashing in black laced pants and a brocade barbarian jacket. Kissur had a grey suit and a tie on.

  "Hey," Kissur said, "it's fantastic that you are not asleep. We decided to get some kicks in a pub. Let's go."

  Bemish was silent.

  "What has happened to you, Terence? You look like a fly in insect spray!"

  "I am screwed," Bemish said. "Trevis refuses to finance the deal."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. I don't know where Shavash got such powerful connections."

  "I see. What are you going to do?"

  "I am going to sell the shares. I don't have any other choice."

  "Are you going to sell them at the higher price than you bought them at?"

  "Naturally… I hold a large block. I can make IC's life hard if it doesn't buy it at the price I want. If I, for instance, appeal IC's actions in an international arbiter court, it will get into one hell of a trouble…"

  "It's called greenmail, right?" Kissur specified.

  "Yes."

  "Shavash was right, then," Kissur said.

  "How dare you!" Bemish shouted, leaping up — and he saw Kissur's contorted face in front of him and the white knuckles on his fist. Bemish managed to duck the first punch. The second one threw him off the chair and to the floor. Bemish somersaulted and bounced back on his feet, the Kissur's boot square tip missed his ear by a centimeter.

  Bemish had a chance of holding his own against Kissur but Khanadar the Dried Date was also in the office.

  "Dumb jerk," Bemish screamed getting in a fighting stance but here Khanadar grabbed him by the elbows. At the next moment, Kissur's knee collided with Bemish's groin; Kissur turned and kicked Bemish in the ear with the same leg. The Earthman collapsed to the floor. Kissur sat atride him and started to choke him.

  "Haven't I told you," Kissur hissed sitting astride the expiring Earthman, "that I would kill you?"

  Bemish grunted and hissed striving to say something. Khanadar approached and stood next to them.

  "Let him go for a second," Khanadar said, "let him admit that he wanted to cheat us from the very beginning. He thinks it's a planet he can take a good crap at."

  Kissur grinned and loosened up the clench. Bemish lay like a worm on a garden path.

  "Idiot," the financier coughed, "I wanted to buy Assalah."

  An atrocious kick with a boot in the ribs silenced him.

  "Again."

  "I wanted to buy Assalah. Trevis was ready to finance the deal. I don't know why he refused. He was browbeaten."

  Another kick followed, this time it was the groin.

  "Liar! Trevis didn't refuse anything. You were playing your favorite game! You took us for worms, didn't you?"

  "I wanted to buy Assalah. Trevis was browbeaten."

  "Who?"

  "Shavash."

  "Yeah? Why wasn't it IC?"

  "IC has headquarters in an Arkansas dog's kernel. Their balls are too small to push Trevis around. They should buy a new fax machine first."

  "Why is Shavash afraid of you?"

  "Shavash wants a buyer who will blink at all his frauds. It was not a company — they were just pumping the budget money into private pockets! Last year Shavash secretly issued more bonds! I think that this goes against even the bizarre local securities regulations."

  "What is "secret bond issue?"

  "I don't know. I have never stumbled upon such a financial product as a secretly issued bond in all my life. But, basically, it means that Shavash re-divided the company accordingly to his wishes — he gave his friends more and he devalued the stocks belonging to his enemies or bystanders."

  "What about the state's share?"

  "It depends on how many additional shares the state obtained."

  "He is lying through his teeth," Khanadar said. "They would have arranged it with Shavash about thieving. He was going to cheat us from the very beginning."

  "No!"

  "All right," Kissur said. "I will believe you but only with one condition. You will sell the company shares at the same price you bought them."

  "No."

  Kissur grinned and took one of the swords hanging in the room from a prop. He got it out of the sheath and pushed its triangular tip in Bemish's throat.

  "Yes, or I will kill you."

  Bemish licked his lips. He didn't doubt that Kissur would kill him. It's stupid. Terence Bemish, a successful financier, half-crook half-genius, had never considered ending his life in a huge city manor of an Empire ex-minister — in the manor, where not a single servant would ever blurt out anything about his fate or, to the opposite, all the servants would swear that Bemish left the manor gate whole and unhurt… Nobody would ever prove anything. Even Shavash would not kill him. Not because he minded killing, but because he was a rational man and he clearly would not want Weia to be declared a place where foreign investors were found with their throats cut… Nothing is cheaper than hiring a killer. But Shavash didn't kill Bemish, he went for Trevis instead — it was an order of magnitude more difficult and expensive…

  "If I don't sell the shares with a rake-off," Bemish said, "I'll go bankrupt. They will point their fingers at me. I will not do what you want."

  "Take your knife, Kissur, and cut his balls off, " Khanadar said, "it doesn't befit you to dirty your noble sword by a money-grubber."

  "You wanted that from the very beginning, didn't you?"

  "No, I wanted to buy Assalah."

  "How much do you need to buy Assalah?"

  "If only half of my potential creditors fulfill their promises without Trevis, I'll need five million."

  "I will find this money," Kissur said, throwing the sword back in the sheath and he left.

  THE SIXTH CHAPTER

  Where company AC declares its real name while Mr. Shavash mentions several unexpected thoughts about democracy's drawb
acks

  The announcement of the investment auction for the acquisition of the state-owned block of shares was published in the government's White Herald a day before the application deadline. The announcement mandated that the auction participants should turn in a deposit of 6 % of projected investment and should demonstrate reliable proof of being able to fulfill the assumed financial obligations.

  Trevis hadn't called Bemish since — it was below his dignity. On the other hand, the corporate financing department head called and told Bemish that he didn't need to hurry back to Trevis' headquarters since he wouldn't be received anyway.

  The next day, Bemish stepped out of a luxurious limo that arrived at the ministry of finance, formerly first minister Rush's palace. A crowd was already there, including the local financiers who, having heard about the Assalah fray, were willing to risk taking part in the auction. Kissur appeared in the registration hall at almost the same time as Bemish.

  Shavash, the director of the company offered for tender, ignored Bemish utterly. He was talking to an Earth journalist. The subject of the talk was the importance of foreign investors — only they were able to force Weian companies to correspond to international audit standards and raise Empire finances to a new level.

  Bemish silently watched the official registering his application and entering the necessary financial contrivances into the computer. What if this bastard makes an error and Bemish won't be allowed to participate on technical grounds.

  The official finished the registration, shoved an embossed sheet with the application in the printer and, having printed everything, carried it to Shavash for a signature. Shavash, without being distracted from the progressive interview, signed everything.

  Bemish moved away to a small table where, by Weian custom, fruits and a special bowl constantly filled with peach juice stood. The juice filled the bowl through a special tube and symbolized the everlasting plenty. Bemish poured some juice in a cup and here Giles approached him.

  "Can I ask you where you got the money?" Giles enquired.

  "The investment company Plana offered me credit."

  "What kind of company is it?"