Talu wasted no time getting to the point. “I’m concerned about the explosion at the platinum mine this afternoon. I’m convinced it’s no accident. Preliminary examinations by local authorities seem to bear that out, though they need to investigate further.”
“I’m surprised it’s taking so long to reach a conclusion.”
Talu smirked. “The syndicate has its fingers in everything, including our local law enforcement. However, the fact that the explosion hasn’t been branded an accident or negligence gives me hope that men with honor still work among our peacekeepers.”
“Or the syndicate wants to make sure Itga knows to back off the Eruz bid.”
“That’s the most likely scenario, but I’m an optimistic fool.”
Jol’s mouth twitched in an approximation of a smile. “We must stay positive when possible.”
“Indeed.” Talu changed the subject. “What is your knowledge of Director Ospar?”
Jol blinked at the unexpected question. He hesitated as he tried to figure out Talu’s scheme in asking it. That there was a motive behind such an inquiry, Jol had no doubt.
Unable to discern the other Nobek’s purpose, Jol said, “The director’s personal welfare has not come up often in the course of my duties. He is the nephew to the owners of Itga. He is also their designated heir. According to gossip, he has had several verbal altercations with the owner of Pladon Industries. He confirmed that himself earlier today.”
“Verbal altercations. That’s one way of putting it.” Talu stood and paced behind his desk, his brow knotted. “I was present at the last Natural Resource Oversight Committee meeting, where Ospar and Urt traded insults. At the height of their disagreement, Ospar suggested Urt’s existence might somehow owe itself to the combination of lusgo worm intelligence and Tragoom shit.”
Because Talu appeared so serious, Jol kept his demeanor impassive, though Ospar’s insult struck him as hilarious. He couldn’t keep himself from deadpanning, “A creative idea, sir. And potentially accurate, if you’ll excuse the casual observation.”
At least he’d kept his attitude professional, if not the statement.
Talu chuckled. “We’re alone and your duty hours are finished for the shift, my son. We can drop the formalities.”
Jol found it difficult to do so. His Nobek father was difficult to impress as a supervisor, more so as his sire. Still, he made a show of letting his body relax a touch and spoke in an easier tone. “Yes, my father.”
“You spent over an hour with Director Ospar after the blast. What is your personal impression of him?”
“He’s intelligent. Concerned for his workers’ welfare. Very Dramok.”
“And? Go ahead; you know I prefer the plain truth.” Talu gave him a shrewd look.
Jol sighed. “When he’s not getting what he wants, his mouth seems to be in search of a fist.”
That earned an outright laugh. “He does have a tendency to verbally bully others, even when they aren’t Dramok Urt. Not a trait you’re known to care for.”
Jol met his father’s gaze. “No, my father. I do not easily tolerate such behavior, verbal or otherwise.”
“Ospar is, for the most part, in charge of this company. You’ll tolerate it from him—to a point.”
“To a point.” Jol’s eyes narrowed at Talu. “Am I going to be spending more time around him?”
“An interesting question.” Instead of reassuring, Talu’s light tone gave his son a bad feeling. “Ospar has no Nobek clanmate to keep an eye on him. With Urt’s backers being the men they are—speaking plainly, cold-blooded killers who avoid having their misdeeds pinned on them—Ospar needs protection.”
Jol’s stomach lurched. “Somehow, I don’t believe the director would agree with your assessment.”
“No, but his uncles do, and they outrank Ospar. They wish someone to keep an eye on him, without his knowledge to start with. Should matters escalate, however, the protection would need to be more immediate. Overt.”
“Which he will undoubtedly resent.” Ospar had not liked Jol hanging about in the office with him for the short period he had. A fulltime bodyguard invading the director’s personal space twenty-five hours a day would not be welcome at all.
Talu’s voice stayed even, noncommittal. “I don’t envy the man stuck with such a duty, but he would earn my high opinion. My enormous respect. It would require a man of the strongest constitution to deal with a Dramok known for his tendency to browbeat others when he doesn’t get what he wants.”
What his father offered was both a privilege and a challenge. Jol was not delighted at the prospect of coping with Ospar in such a situation. Yet it would be a chance to prove himself to Talu, an opportunity Jol conceded he had squandered in the past.
No, I didn’t mean to think of it as squandered. In fact, I’d do it all again the same way if given the chance.
Pretending his heart hadn’t started the old pained throbbing again, Jol said, “You honor me, my father. There are others with more experience who could fulfill the responsibility. As well as men with more successful track records when it comes to such tasks.” His chest squeezed tight as he spoke the words.
“Perhaps, but my son will take the job as a personal favor to me. He’ll be more watchful than most, due to past losses.” Thankfully, Talu didn’t pursue the subject any further. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a passcard, which he handed over to Jol. “Code this into your handheld. It will give you access onto Ospar’s property. The head of security at his complex knows you’ll be on the premises.”
Jol obeyed his father’s dictate. “Will the complex security take offense to me assuming a portion of their duties?”
“They guard the properties, not the people. Those who live in Ospar’s section often have personal guards around. You may see a few celebrities. I trust you won’t be starstruck?”
Jol snorted and handed the pass card back to Talu. “Of course not. My attention will be fixed on Director Ospar.”
“Good. He’ll be leaving his uncles’ office soon, so I’ll release you to your assignment.” Talu’s eyes twinkled. “If honoring your father’s wishes isn’t incentive enough, then maybe being paid triple rate will help.”
Even triple rate wasn’t what Jol had been paid before as a personal bodyguard, but his past profession had been a private agreement. Corporate security tended to pay less than those privileged few who contracted with fulltime protection providers. Jol didn’t comment on the disparity, however. In the end, the money was meaningless.
There were far heavier costs than that of a lesser paycheck. He’d already paid them.
After wishing his father a good night and asking Talu to pass along his greetings to the rest of his parents, Jol bowed and took his leave. He strode through the headquarters, moving towards the shuttle bay where he’d wait for Ospar’s departure. Jol hoped guarding the director wouldn’t turn out to be a shit assignment.
I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. His father had been kind to get him in at Itga when Jol needed the assignment most. However, working for a mining company was boring—today’s explosion aside. For the most part, it was no challenge to his abilities. Mindless labor had been welcome in the beginning, when he was too wrapped up in grief and self-recrimination to do more than the most routine tasks. Perhaps these last few weeks of restlessness were a sign that the period of healing was done. Jol had begun thinking of looking for employment elsewhere.
No doubt, leaving Itga would disappoint Talu yet again. Jol should have been used to the idea by that stage in their relationship.
* * * *
Ospar settled in for the usual quiet night at home in the caverns of Wenza Territory. The caverns were a complex series of vast caves near the mountain that housed Itga Headquarters. Some parts were open to the sky above, and a few others used a roof-vid system that gave the illusion of the heavens. They were always cooler than the earth above ground, even those exposed to the wide-ranging sky. The interior of the caverns h
ad been left to the whims of nature in many instances. Ospar lived within walking distance of two such untamed areas, and he enjoyed strolling those caverns when his schedule allowed.
His home was in a grouping of finer residences. In an exclusive neighborhood, Ospar’s smallish abode was easy to miss in the midst of homes as palatial as the Royal House. His particular dwelling was not as ostentatious in the least, displaying none of his vast wealth. He preferred to keep outward appearances modest. He liked the finer things to be sure, but he was also well aware that many people would attribute his status to his generous uncles.
Ospar chafed under the general supposition that he’d not earned any of his rank, though he refused to lay any blame at the feet of relations. He adored the two men who had made him who he was.
Tebrok and Sallid enjoyed their bond as brothers, and they enjoyed being unattached bachelors. While they’d had their romances and dalliances, they’d preferred each other’s company since childhood. The best of friends from the moment Sallid was able to toddle after his older sibling, their easy companionship could not be usurped by outside forces. Neither Dramok had ever considered forming clans.
The only thing they admitted to regretting was not having children of their own. When their Nobek brother Cobret’s clan had produced Ospar, Tebrok and Sallid had been quick to take an interest in the child. After starting Itga, they’d offered Cobret a partnership. Their hope had been to draw their brother’s clan off the mining colony Rokan and bring the family unit together on Kalquor. However, Cobret and his clanmates were devoted ‘diggers’—prospectors who preferred the thrill of unearthing a new vein that would yield treasures. It mattered not whether those riches were precious metals or jewels. No one in Ospar’s parent clan cared about the money that came from their finds. They loved the thrill of the hunt. Even Ospar’s mother, who had come from a background of privilege, delighted in discovery more than the gains that came with it.
They had recognized that the mining colony, with its inherent dangers and isolation, was perhaps not the best place to raise a child. When Ospar turned five and was classified as a Dramok, Cobret’s clan accepted his brothers’ offer to bring the boy to Kalquor and see to his schooling.
Ospar owed everything to his uncles. They’d raised him. They’d paid handsomely to offer him the best education in business. Most importantly, they’d instilled in him the belief that there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish once he set his mind to it. Ospar’s willfulness, evident when he was positive he was in the right, had caused its share of upheavals. Yet overall, the family was happy with how his life had turned out.
In the end, Tebrok and Sallid had entrusted Itga’s day-to-day operations to Ospar. He was ever mindful that perhaps he’d not had to work hard enough to get where he was. That made the young Dramok more determined than ever to repay his uncles with results. He drove himself to prove he was worth every penny, every privilege they’d accorded him.
Nevertheless, the siren call of other ventures sang to him. Ospar might have been born with mining in his blood, but it was not in his heart.
He was aware as always of the struggle for his affections as he sat in his well-appointed common room, watching the news vid report on the explosion that had rocked the platinum mine. Ospar was relieved to learn only four men remained in the hospital due to their injuries. More relieved that they would all recover. He tried his best not to feel smug when a physician commented that they owed their lives to the protective clothing they’d worn. He failed.
“Well, it was my insistence that we incorporate those armored bodysuits. The regulations board has been slow to require such protective gear of all mining companies,” he muttered to himself. “I can pat myself on the back a little for demonstrating how worthwhile my policy is.”
Sprawled on the lounger before the crackling firepit, Ospar watched the report long enough to reassure himself that he’d not been mentioned by name. The efficient Talu had honored his wishes on that count. If Urt and his backers were behind the blast, they’d be left to wonder if Ospar was among the wounded. Maybe they wouldn’t be sure that he’d been present at the mine at all. They wouldn’t know if he’d gotten the message.
“Got it loud and clear, though it’s not been received in the manner you hoped for,” Ospar told his absent would-be assailants. “I’ll win the Eruz claim and laugh in your faces just out of spite now.”
Updated to his satisfaction, Ospar switched the feed to what excited him. He sipped a drink as he took in the latest political news.
He couldn’t put his finger on what entranced him about politics. The power to determine wide-reaching decisions? The chance to make history? The brokering of deals, navigating the twisting snarls of negotiation and debate, the outright shouting matches that broke out between a governor and his territorial council, or the Imperial Clan and the Royal Council?
It appealed to Ospar on every level. He often fantasized of being in the thick of things, of accomplishing important policies that would stand for years to come. The idea that he could be a legislator filled him with a secret joy.
He could make a start in that direction, at least on the most local district level. The positions of the district council were manned by business leaders and lawyers, men who had as many daily responsibilities in their lives as Ospar did. District council required only a few hours each week to cope with zoning requests, local regulations, and raising funds for projects that would benefit the common good of the residents.
Important efforts, to be certain. It would be the place for any would-be politician to start, and Ospar was fine with that—for the short term.
Where he really wanted to be, however, was at the territorial level. A seat on the council would be where the real policy would be created. Maybe he could even rise to the post of governor, given time. And who knew? Perhaps a seat on the Royal Council wasn’t out of the question in the far-off future. Ospar imagined going toe-to-toe on legislation with the wily Emperor Zarl. A smile tugged at his lips.
His pleasure at the thought didn’t last for long. It never did. Every fantasy ended with the realization that to attain the modest dream of territorial council member meant walking away from Itga and disappointing his uncles. He’d have to abandon the men who had given him his pleasant life and named him their heir. Ospar experienced pangs of guilt when he envisioned discussing what he wanted with Tebrok and Sallid, when he visualized their hurt over his desertion.
Yet the notion of achieving all the goals he dreamed of persisted. Loyalty couldn’t quell the longing to leave Itga behind and forge his own unique path.
In the aftermath of the explosion in the mine and the feeling he’d never get the chance to realize his dreams of government leadership, Ospar’s emotional status was one of despondency. Adding to his dissatisfaction for that day, little of note had happened in the Empire’s political world. Disappointed, Ospar switched the system off and sipped his drink.
It wasn’t entirely quiet in his comfortable home. The vents allowing fresh air inside had been opened by the housekeeping staff. The sweet sounds of the lizard-like drils and avians that had flown into the cavern from the open roof over Ospar’s housing section drifted to his ears. The massive aquariums embedded in three of the common room’s walls emitted a soft hum.
Ospar let his gaze settle on the aquarium to his right. It glowed blue-green in the low, intimate lighting. Within, brightly colored water creatures swam, a relaxing delight to the eyes. Their tranquil ballet soothed him more than the drink in his hand.
I have nothing to feel angst over. No real reason to have unhappiness tying my stomach in knots. Maybe I don’t have everything I want, but I have more than many people.
Why couldn’t he be content? His luxurious-without-being-ostentatious home was pleasant and in a development in which all upkeep was included in the homeowner’s contract. Ospar didn’t have to concern himself with maintenance or cleaning. If he wished, he could order any meal he desired. He usually did, and
the food was delivered to his door.
His professional life was in order. He’d avoided serious injury in the platinum mine disaster. In a few weeks, Itga would win the Eruz contract, and Ospar would crow about it in Urt’s stupid face. There wouldn’t be a damned thing that the bastard’s backers—syndicate or not—could do about it either.
With Eruz in his portfolio as a repayment with interest to his uncles, Ospar could explore the local political scene. He’d prove his worth there, so much so that Tebrok and Sallid wouldn’t find any fault in him moving on to bigger and better things. It could work out to his advantage.
Ospar sat trying to convince himself he had nothing to feel depressed about, that there was no reason for the heaviness weighing his emotions down. He had life where he wanted it, didn’t he? Although he had no significant others to share it with in a meaningful fashion. He often felt lonely at moments such as these. There was no help for that, however. Ospar was busy running Itga, seeing to it that it would support his uncles as they moved ever closer to retirement. Making sure it was as successful as he could manage. Turning it into a major enterprise as fast as possible so he could be free to explore his other aspirations. Ospar had few opportunities for going out on the town with friends, even if he’d had any nearby.
It would have been nice to talk to somebody, especially after the day he’d had. Ospar would have liked a friendly ear to listen to his concerns and aspirations. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a soul to share any of it with. A lot of his education had involved frequent trips and focused studies. His uncles had taken up a lot of his time when Ospar wasn’t learning how to run Itga for them. Doing right by his family and the company hadn’t allowed for much when it came to friendships.
The moments of lonesomeness came infrequently, and Ospar was usually able to move beyond them. That night was the exception.
“I could have died hours ago,” Ospar murmured. “Syodab Syndicate wanted me dead, perhaps. I want an acquaintance I can talk to about that. And about the other stuff too.”
Clan and Conscience Page 3
