A slim man with a white, almost transparent face and flying eyebrows sat inside the pavilion. Even though the man wore European dress, Bemish recognized the Emperor almost immediately and he was jolted a bit. It was quite surprising that during the last three days of the crisis when everybody — Kissur, zealots, governmental officials and even Earthmen — had the Emperor's name on their tongue tips the entire time, nobody, as far as Bemish remembered, heard anything from the Emperor himself. And nobody discussed anything with him. Or was that really the case? Did Kissur call the Emperor?
Another man stood next to the Emperor — an Empire's ex-first minister Nan also known as David Steighton.
"Bow immediately," the police minister hissed from behind.
Bemish hurriedly created something between a bow and a one knee stand and as he was rising, he saw a sarcastic smile on Nan's face.
"Good day, Mr. Bemish," Emperor Varnazd's voice was quiet as usual and it somewhat resembled a child's cry. "I am glad to see you hale. Tell me, what," here the Emperor stumbled "does my vice minister of finance, Shavash, want from the Federation?"
"Is he still a vice minister? Hasn't he been declared a criminal?"
The Emperor looked sulky. That's right. Shavash had so many friends now that even the Emperor would not even dare to withdraw his appointment. Damn it, the man was blackmailing the whole Galaxy and his state was too timid even to kick him in the butt! That was no good. It looked like an authorized Empire official would be making demands of the Earthmen.
"It would be very hard for me to declare Kissur a criminal," the Emperor whispered. "What do they want?"
"I don't know. They will announce it only when they meet the delegation."
"Nan is saying the same," the Emperor spoke, turning his face towards the figure standing soundlessly next to a carved column. "But he landed in Assalah."
That was news for Bemish. He knew that the ex-first minister was flying to Weia but to land in the spaceport taken over by the terrorists…
"When will the talks start?"
"It's unknown. Our delegation is not going to go to Assalah and Shavash is scared to death of going to the capital of the county where he is an authorized official."
The sarcasm in Bemish's voice was too evident and the Emperor looked petulant.
"The talks can take place in my palace," sovereign Varnazd said. "I swear that both sides will be safe here. I don't think that our troops or Earth's security services would dare to smear our traditions and start any violence in my palace. I also don't think that Mr. Shavash would dare refuse coming into his sovereign's palace when the sovereign guarrantees his safety."
The sovereign lowered his head showing that the meeting came to an end. Bemish bowed to take a leave when suddenly the Emperor said quietly,
"What about Kissur? How is he? He looked so pale on the screen…"
"Kissur feels like a fish in the river," Bemish assured him, "unlike the three thousand men he killed yesterday."
And he left.
X X X
Of course, Shavash didn't dare to ignore the guarantees given by the sovereign. Really, if an Empire's vice minister, defending the sovereign's interests, refused to come to the palace, in the least, it would look like he handed an official resignation notice.
A helicopter with Shavash accompanied by a dozen of his bodyguards landed at the sovereign's palace at six in the morning. Palace guards with expressionless faces walked the incomers to the Rainbow Pavilion where the Federation delegates had gathered.
The meeting took place on the first floor, in the Hall of White Clouds. The Earthmen sat around the table and silently studied their notebooks involuntarily glancing at the beautiful jars of pure silver decorated with dancing swans and peacocks. The palace servants brought these jars in, filled with special palace wine aged on nut leaves mixed with pine needles.
The state secretary Khodsky was probably very thirsty — he would constantly wet his lips in a wine glass, sniff at the smell that felt wrong at a diplomatic meeting and put the glass back down.
Bemish suddenly realized that conducting the negotiations in palace territory handed certain advantages to Shavash. Everything here was filled with traditions and Empire; the proficient palace servants put wondrous wine jars on the table but they didn't even think about bringing mineral water in plastic bottles. The people sitting here were quite well off and one of them had almost had to resign a year ago having spent too much money refurnishing a new Federation Defense building. However, the deeply alien luxury of this hall, scaly pictures on the walls and silver beams that were round like the sun could not but influence the delegates, albeit on a subconscious level. Shavash, on the other hand, had visited this hall for dozens of times. He was in his element.
At 6:15 they heard steps and Shavash walked into the meeting hall. He wore a European suit and he was impeccably shaved but something foreign entered the hall with him. Bemish sniffed and realized what happened — instead of eau-de-cologne Shavash used an expensive local perfume. Bemish unwillingly thought that it would throw the delegates off a bit. At the same time, when Shavash started giving interviews to journalists, he would look like a true Galaxy man — you could not film a perfume.
After some hesitation, state secretary Khodsky silently rose to meet Shavash. The latter bowed to him and took a place across the table from Khodsky. Bemish noticed Khodsky's nose twitching alertly taking the unfamiliar smell in.
"We," the state secretary said, "fulfilled your requirements and arrived at Weia. Now, we would like to listen to your conditions."
"We would like," Shavash answered, "you to accept the Empire of Great Light into the Federation of Nineteen."
Bemish thought that he had missed something.
"We will withdraw from the confrontation and release the remaining hostages," Shavash repeated, "if Weia joins the Federation of Nineteen as a federation state."
Several seconds passed by in stunned silence.
"To achieve this," the Fourth Space Army commander acidly noted, "you didn't have to declare a war on the Federation of Nineteen."
"On the contrary," Shavash objected, "if we hadn't declared a war, you wouldn't have even considered our proposition. You would have calculated quickly the cost of all the social programs and long-term investments that you would have to run on Weia as a Federation state. Afterwards, you would have politely told us that moral reasons would prevent you from taking actions that could be considered as a annexation of an independent state."
Shavash was smiling. Bemish went cold. Really, incorporating Weia into the Federation of Nineteen would solve many if not all of its problems… But… Such a pile of money… Bemish imagined a barefoot street beggar getting minimal Federation unemployment benefits.
"But," the state secretary broke off, "there are no precedents…"
"That's not true," Shavash replied, "In the first century BC, Latin tribes declared a war on Rome trying to obtain Roman citizenship. During the Mexican War of 1848, the radical party of Mexico insisted that the country should be annexed by the United States. It's sad, gentlemen, that a Weian knows your history better than you do."
Bemish grinned. Referring to the past was indeed typical for a Weian official. Shavash continued, smiling.
"Imagine that you reject our proposal and continue the war. Accordingly to well-known reasons, your mobile tactical units are unreliable and you can't use them. There are too many Weians there. It means that you will have to destroy half of the Empire with strategic weapons. The reputation of the Federation of Nineteen will be horribly compromised!
At the same time, you will exhibit unspeakable cruelty destroying a completely powerless country and you will exhibit unspeakable weakness. Really, what's can you say about the fighting ability of the country when half of its shock troops comes from a potential enemy?! The Federation's authority will be shattered. Gera and other enemies of yours will obtain a moral advantage. The Federation members, that have been demanding independence, w
ill hurry to leave the union — they will declare that they completely disagree with Earth's politics."
Shavash paused, sipped on his wine and continued.
"Let's imagine now that you agree to our proposal and the Federation of Nineteen becomes the Federation of Twenty. It will be a triumph of democracy and freedom! An empire, a whole planet voluntarily sheds its freedom and independence to become a member of the Federation! The Federation doesn't need any weapons — it simply wins hearts over!"
"It's crazy," the state secretary muttered.
"This century is the time of separatism. Maybe the Empire is fated to turn this process back. Vadda desires independence. Won't its people change their opinion after the Empire's example? In any case, local politicians will find it more difficult to assure the nation that real happiness will come when the politicians don't have to obey the metropolis any longer."
The state secretary's eyes lit up. He arrived at the Empire, having interrupted negotiations with Vadda. This planet was going to leave the Federation either with a scandal or with a huge scandal. Merry imps danced across the state secretary's eyes as he was thinking about Shavash's words.
Meanwhile, Shavash continued.
"What are the gains of winning a war? You take over a foreign country for the present and protect your future. What are the drawbacks of winning a war? The losers are embittered and they want revenge; the neighbors get wary. We offer you all the gains of a victorious war without its single drawback!
Our proposal takes care of a multitude of problems.
For instance, there is the problem of the lands surrounding the Empire. Their development has already started. It will clearly cause conflicts between the sovereign Empire and the Federation. If we are to join, the reasons for the conflicts will be gone.
If you let us get away with our actions, you will demonstrate your weakness. Having declared a war on us, you will exhibit weakness and cruelty simultaneously. Both winning and losing the war will be catastrophic for you
— you will find yourselves internationally isolated. You will look like demagogues instead of democrats. The Federation forces developing planets to respect the human rights. However, when the same planets ask it to uphold human rights, the Federation drops nuclear bombs on them having decided that upholding the human rights is just too expensive.
If you reject our proposal, even a victorious war will be catastrophic for you. If you accept it, you remain a beacon of democracy and freedom. In the case of war, you will find yourself without tactical troops but with a reputation of a militaristic state. In the case of peace, you will obtain again the most reliable soldiers in the Galaxy and the reputation of a peaceful country!"
"What will happen to the Emperor?" the state secretary asked.
"What's wrong about having an Emperor?" the official objected. "There are kings and emperors in various states of Earth — in Arabia, in Belgium. The Emperor will be the symbol of the nation and the country will have a first minister and universal elections."
"And Earth will be accused of forcing democracy on you, won't it?" the state secretary inquired.
Shavash spread his hands.
"It's unlikely," he said, "that Earth will be accused in forcing democracy on us in the current circumstances."
Somebody snickered.
"Also," the official added, "we have already silenced the most bellicose blabbermouths so that you won't get too upset."
"You did it as preliminary measure before instituting democracy," General Al Saad noted.
Shavash preferred to ignore the comment and continued, "We are not talking about Weia; we are talking about the Federation. Will it prefer to become internationally isolated and fall apart or to obtain a strategic stronghold and flourish? Take into account that in twenty years you will have to spend forty times more for a war against Gera than you would have to invest now into economics and infrastructure of the Federation's new state!"
"We will think your proposal over," the state secretary said.
X X X
Bemish left the hall together with Fifth Fleet commander Al Saad.
"What do you think about this?" Bemish inquired.
"Do you know," the general answered, "this joke? A man is walking down a forest and an old woman points a blaster at him. "Weren't you going to rape me, dearie?" — "Absolutely not, granny!" — "You don't have a choice, dearie!"
Bemish burst out in laughter.
Five minutes later, tired and hungry Bemish ascended into a small triangular hall. The tables for the delegation stood there, filled with appetizers and dishes. The guards were everywhere and a dozen of journalists waiting for the negotiations to finish, hunted the solitary delegates.
Having come in, Bemish discovered that the adroit journalists and attendants had already taken care of the food and only the most exotic dishes were left. Bemish made himself comfortable next to a dish of a sauteed dog and Al Saad, having hesitated for a moment, followed him.
A wide TV screen stood in the right corner of the hall. It showed a Weian meeting next to the palace walls, first, and the Geran envoy's speech, second. The Geran thanked Kissur and the selfless Weians for uncovering the intrigues of Earth warmongers. He confirmed that Gera was ready to assist the exploited and mislead Weian people if the Federation dared to attack them.
Then Shavash entered the hall accompanied by two or three attendants. Shavash probably didn't want to approach the Assalah director but he clearly wanted to eat. The only edible object left on the table was the sauteed dog that Bemish sat next to.
Shavash came to the dog and started cutting it with a knife. Bemish pointedly turned away.
The anchorman on the TV screen read the announcement of Geran president. The president promised assistance to Weians and everybody else. He suggested to everybody exploited by the Federation to unite in defense of the betrayed Weians and to join their ranks fighting "the corrupted democracy of the Federation."
The TV set was not performing well. An indistinct web of blue and green lines pulsated on the screen. It was an indication that a powerful two channel trans communication unit was working somewhere nearby. The state secretary was probably speaking directly to the Federation president. Bemish stared fixedly at the green lines on the screen as if he could figure the conversation's content out of them.
The palace servants came in, changed tablecloths and covered the tables with new dishes. However, Bemish was full. In about an hour, green and blue ripples disappeared and, almost immediately, envoy Severin entered the hall. Severin approached Shavash and asked him to walk upstairs.
"The Federation president would like to talk to you," he said quietly, "on the transcom."
Shavash walked upstairs; Bemish and the general followed him simultaneously. A number of people were present in the room upstairs — a dozen diplomats and the same number of technicians. Nobody stopped Bemish and the general when they entered the room following Shavash.
A simple computer with a transcom unit connected directly to the parallel port stood on the table. Shavash leaned over the keyboard, somebody quickly pushed a button and president's Kerry face appeared in front of Shavash on the wide monitor screen.
"Mr. Shavash?" the president said.
"I am listening to you," the small official replied.
"I discussed your proposal with the heads of the Federation states. We concluded that it would put the Federation in a difficult, almost critical financial situation. However, it is mutually profitable and honorable. The executive heads of the Federation will agree to your proposal on one condition."
"What is it?"
"Your personal actions, Mr. Shavash, are extraordinary, or more directly, monstrous. You obtained quite a scandalous reputation even on your own planet. It's possible that, thanks to your successful actions, the people will choose you as the head of the new Federation state. It will be very unpleasant for us to see you in the Assembly of the heads of the states. Our condition is the following — we will accept Weia
into the Federation as long as you don't participate in the new elections. If you really care about your country's well-being, you will find it easy to agree to our condition."
For a while, Shavash expressionlessly looked at the screen. Bemish suddenly recalled with malice how the small official had regretted a while ago that the Federation hadn't conquered Weia and he, Shavash, couldn't become the Federation Emperor's slave and worm his way into the Assembly of the heads of the states.
"I agree," the first vice minister of finance finally said.
X X X
Half an hour later, Bemish sat in the garden with a laptop in his hands, deeply immersed in calculations. The year before last, the total volume of direct and portfolio investments into the Empire's economy was four billion dinars. The last year, thanks to Bemish's example, it was sixteen billion. Just before the elections, the investment flow increased a bit more and it dropped almost to zero afterwards.
The total sum of allowances, benefits and investment credits for a new Federation member would be, accordingly to Bemish's calculations, six thousand four billion dinars — six trillion.
Somebody approached and stood next to him. Bemish turned around and saw Nan and Shavash.
"Why are you pouting, Terence," Shavash asked. "Can you imagine how much Assalah stocks will cost tomorrow?"
"That's why I am upset," Bemish grinned. "You could at least give me a hint. Confess, how much have you made on this deal?"
"I don't really know yet," the small official spoke. "I, however, have a gift for you, Mr. Bemish. During the crisis, I took it upon myself to buy Assalah bonds at the total sum of three hundred million dinars. On the average, I paid eight cent for a dinar. I would like to give you a half of them."
Shavash paused.
"Also, as you remember, I am authorized to invest Special Weian fund's money in whatever way I see fit. During the emergency, the fund was buying everything it could."
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