Three jaws dropped.
“You mean… sorry to be crude, Flerrionna… they just drop their panties and we have at it?” I said.
“That’s monstrous,” Flerrionna said.
“It doesn’t sound particularly, er, romantic,” Honesty-in-Trust added.
“I suppose there’s a Lottery representative present, too, to make sure I fulfil my end of the bargain,” I said sarcastically.
Hermes shrugged. “I make no guarantee I’m right. I’ve never actually been there, you understand.”
“I should hope not,” Flerrionna said.
The conversation paused there as our food arrived. Smutch proved to be a kind of fish, I think. At least it looked a bit like fish although it was a deep grey-green colour. It tasted good, though; quite highly flavoured with an initial bitter flavour that masked a smoothness underneath. I didn’t enquire about its origins remembering Hermes’ salutary story. We ate in silence, the food being too good to spoil by conversation. When we finally leaned back with sighs of satisfaction, another huge black man appeared. He could almost have been Hiconi’s brother except his hair was cut short and he had a large silver earring in one ear.
“Bartonti,” Hermes exclaimed. “How are you?”
“Just fine, Hermes. Just fine,” the large man smiled. “You still trawling for unwilling victims?” He suddenly noticed me. “Oh, sorry, Sir. Nothing personal, you understand.”
I laughed. “’Unwilling victim’ isn’t a bad description. Hermes can be most persuasive.”
“He can that.” He turned back to Hermes. “See, there’s someone else who knows you’re really just a smooth-talking blackguard.”
He and Hermes traded good-natured insults.
Finally Bartonti turned to us. “Did you enjoy the meal, Sirs and Madam?”
We agreed we certainly had.
“Do you have any sorbet?” Hermes asked.
“Sure do.”
“Then we’ll have sorbets all round. Believe me,” he said to us, “you haven’t lived till you’ve tasted Deni’s sorbets.”
Bartonti left with a grin.
“It’s probably not polite to ask,” Flerrionna said. “But are both these men married to the same woman?”
Hermes grinned. “And Deni. Mericon, or to give her her proper name, Mericonta, is married to Hiconitus, Bartontitus and Denitus. The ‘ta’ and ‘tus’ being female and male honorifics signifying their family bond.”
“It’s difficult to imagine,” Flerrionna said in an awed tone.
“They are marvellous people. I’ve known them for ages.”
“They certainly know how to cook,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“I like this place,” I said. “I think it’s the first time I’ve felt fully relaxed since I arrived.”
“It’s quiet tonight,” Hermes said. “It can get quite, er, lively sometimes.”
The sorbets arrived and, as Hermes had claimed, they were out of this world, if you’ll forgive the pun.
“I think we should get back to business,” Honesty-in-Trust said when the last traces had been scraped from the bowls.
“I’ve had a thought,” I said. “What about all these sponsorships you talked about, Hermes.”
“Sponsorships?” Flerrionna said.
“Hermes told me that lots of people want the Lottery Winner to eat at their restaurant or visit their emporium or sample their wares so they can say they were patronised by him. I suppose they’re as crooked as the rest of the set-up, though.”
“I thought we were discussing the breeding programme?” Flerrionna said.
“We are. If I’m doing my bang-a-bird-a-night act, when am I going to do all this wining and dining?”
“Part of that didn’t translate,” Honesty-in-Trust complained.
“Probably just as well. It was a bit rude. I meant ‘when I’m fulfilling my duties as breeding stud’.”
He laughed. “Probably just as well it didn’t translate.”
“My point remains. I assume you were being serious, Hermes.”
“I was and I don’t know. To be honest, my description was more and educated guess than a factual account.”
“I’m just going to have to wing it,” I said. “One thing’s for sure, though. If I’m going to be intimate with a lot of girls, I want to get to know them a bit first.”
“I don’t know whether I should be pleased or not,” Flerrionna said with a rueful smile.
I sensed she was feeling insecure but this wasn’t the time or place to offer practical reassurance.
“If I had my druthers, I druther not be doing it at all,” I said. “But as I must, it’s only fair I do it properly. Just think of these poor girls and all they’ve gone through. All waiting for their moment with the Lottery Winner. And all they see is the ceiling of a hotel suite.”
“The man has a way with words,” Honesty-in-Trust cackled.
Flerrionna smiled and squeezed my hand.
“Now, as to the spaceship,” Hermes said. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It will be safely tucked away in one of Zofi-Brennan’s docks. I suspect it will be them rather than the Commission who contact you.”
“It’ll be similar with the money. The Commission’s bankers’ll probably contact you and ask you what you want to do,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“And what will I reply?”
“Give it all to my lawyer?” That got the obligatory laugh. “Seriously, you should do just that. Refer them to me. I’ll sort out the bank. I do recommend you get some professional financial advice, though. I’d also recommend that you don’t leave very much in the original account. Spread it around. Make it disappear.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “It’s just a feeling I’ve got.”
“Where do I find financial advice; advice I can trust? Back home I’d trust a banker as far as I could see him and even then I’d keep my hands in my pockets.”
He winced. “You have a nasty suspicious mind.”
“Bankers are very good at making money disappear. They’re not so good at making it reappear again.”
“I know someone,” Flerrionna said. “She does my finances and she’s trustworthy and discreet.”
“We really need someone who’s honestly dishonest,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“Honestly dishonest?” Hermes said with a chuckle.
“I mean who knows how to hide money and invest it discreetly but won’t steal.”
“That's what I meant by ‘discreet’,” Flerrionna said.
“Fine, we’ll do it like that,” I said. “Honesty-in-Trust sets up the initial contact then your friend, Flerrionna, does her thing. That takes care of three of my worries. Anyone got any to add?”
“Yes. The Commission or, rather, that part of it that’s perverted the purpose of the Lottery,” Honesty-in-Trust said. “We’ve made a number of powerful enemies and they’re not going to take their defeat lying down.”
“What can they do?”
“They might try to recover what they’ve lost by trickery, bribery, menace or outright theft. They could try to force Crawford to break the terms of his contract. They could put pressure on him to quit… just up sticks and go home. They could simply try to kill him or they could try to get at him through us.”
“I thought they were obliged to protect me,” I said.
“Officially, yes, and I’m sure they’ll do their damndest. But remember there’s at least two factions and one of them isn’t very happy with you just now.”
“What would be the position if something were to happen to Crawford?” Hermes said thoughtfully.
“It would depend. If it was a genuine accident or he got sick or something, then everything would revert to the Commission. That was in the original contract so I left it. That's within a year, by the way. After that, everything becomes part of his estate.
“If there were suspicious circumstances then his heirs, assuming the accident was fatal, could sue for breach of contract. Whether they�
��d win or not would depend.”
“So why did you put the bit in the contract about protecting Crawford?”
“Mostly as a spoiling tactic to force the anti-Crawford faction to be cautious.”
“Actually it was me,” I said. “I was feeling particularly paranoid and vindictive at the time. I made Honesty-in-Trust put it in.”
“This is all very morbid,” Flerrionna said.
“I know but we’re got to have contingency plans for the worst case,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“What are our contingency plans?” Hermes said.
Honesty-in-Trust shrugged. “We don’t have any… yet.”
Something had been tugging at the back of my mind. “I doubt my heirs are going to come charging in with all guns blazing,” I said. “Remember I’m the only man on Earth who knows of the Galaxy’s existence. Wait a minute… Heirs… Heirs don’t have to be family, do they? I mean you can leave your worldly possessions to someone other than your immediate family?”
“That depends,” Honesty-in-Trust said. “Inheritance law isn’t my speciality but, as far as I know, it’s the laws of someone’s home world or religion that apply. If you were a Capellan, it’s Capellan law that would apply whether you lived here or somewhere else.”
“Would Capellan law apply to me?” Flerrionna asked.
“If you’re a naturalised Capellan, yes.”
“I was born here.”
“Then definitely yes.”
“But for Hermes it would be the laws of his home system.” I said, getting the idea.
“Normally. But Hermes could choose to use Capellan law as he’s a resident and a long-term employee of a Capellan organisation.”
“Then, in my case, Scottish law would apply,” I said.
Honesty-in-Trust was grinning. “No-one here knows anything about Scottish law, whatever that is. The case could last for years.”
An idea had gelled. “I’m going to make a will.”
“A what?”
“A legal statement about what I want to happen to my worldly goods should I die. It’s standard practice and difficult to break in court. To contest a will you generally have to prove that the person was mentally insane or unduly influenced or something like that. What I’m going to do is leave the spaceship and the cats to Hermes and divide everything else up equally between you, Honesty-in-Trust and Flerrionna, and my family. That will include my house and things on Earth and my insurance policies and so on.”
Honesty-in-Trust was nodding. “There are systems where that's the practice so there’s precedent.”
“How will that help?” Flerrionna asked.
“It won’t save Crawford’s life but it’ll mean that the Commission will have a hard time getting anything back.” He paused and examined the ceiling. “Yes, my ibic likes it. It suggests that you take some other precautions, too. If, though there’s not much doubt, the Commission decide to fight, we’ll need funds. I suggest you set yourself up as a company and pay us all salaries and allow us unlimited expenses. That way we can use your money to fight the Commission and, of course, there’ll be less for them even if they do win,”
“That’s devious,” I said.
“I rather like it,” Honesty-in-Trust smirked.
“What happens if the Commission is not interested in getting anything back but simply wants revenge?” Hermes asked.
“There’s no legal redress against revenge.”
“I know that. I meant, what’s our contingency plan if the Commission just come after Crawford with, as he puts it, all guns blazing?”
“We run away?” Flerrionna said.
The other two looked at her in amazement. “You know, that’s a damn good idea,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“We’ve got the one of the fastest ships around and it is well armed. I agree,” Hermes said. “I will make some escape plans.” He grinned. “I’ve been in a few tight spots in my time.”
“Well, that takes care of the bottom line,” I said. “How do we go about preventing the worst happening and how do we handle things in the meantime?”
“The problem is we don’t have enough information,” Honesty-in-Trust said. “If you’re willing to spend some more money, I could start investigating the Commissioners and see if I can find out who the opposition is and what their intentions are.”
“You can spend as much as you like. As I haven’t got any, you’ll find it difficult to collect, though.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. As for the rest, until we know what the official plans for you are, anything we decide is just idle speculation.”
“I agree,” Hermes said. “As long as we have an escape plan I think you should just play things by ear.”
I sighed. “That’s what I feared. Okay, the future. I know it’s a bit premature but I think we should at least have some idea of what we want to do. I confess I’m too caught up in the current situation to even think beyond tomorrow.”
“I know what I want,” Flerrionna said, holding my arm possessively.
“I’m just a spaceship pilot. I fly where you tell me, boss,” Hermes said.
“You’re far from ‘just’ anything,” I said. “Honesty-in-Trust?”
“Other than making my fortune from the Lottery Winner, I have no ambitions,” he said.
“That, too, I find hard to believe. Oh, well, perhaps you’re right. We’ve enough problems today without worrying about tomorrow.”
Chapter 9
The Commission came knocking at nine o’clock the following morning. Fortunately I was up and about and, even more fortunately, Flerrionna had gone.
“We tried to contact you but your communicator seems to be switched off,” the leader said.
Honesty-in-Trust had taken it last night to be checked.
“So it was from you? There was a small problem with the set-up which I’m getting fixed.”
If I hadn’t been alert I’d’ve missed the look of alarm that flashed across his face. “You should have contacted us.”
“As I didn’t know until just now it was from you, that was hardly feasible. Anyway, I’m told it’s a very minor problem and they promised I’d have it back today.”
“Well, can’t be helped. I am Sir Taragis Hlawch. This is Sir Gods-Favoured Devoted-Acolyte and Madam Barbita Brabicoso. We are from the Lottery Commission and are here to discuss your obligations.”
He was from the same system as the Chairman’s assistant Blaggis Hringe, being short, slightly rounded with non-descript features, a sallow pink complexion and straggly brown hair. Devoted-Acolyte was obviously Capellan but Madam Brabicoso’s origins were unfamiliar to me. She was tall, taller than I, and slim. Not skinny or bony but it was as if she had been stretched. Her skin was pale, almost white and her hair ash blonde. Her features were small and regular, except for her eyes which were large and a deep purple shade.
“Delighted, Sirs and Madam. Do come it. Please help yourself to refreshments while I shower and dress.”
They were seated at the dining table with papers strewn around and a flat rectangular thing about the size of a laptop computer with some controls in one corner sitting in the middle when I returned. I made myself a cup of coffee and joined them.
“You are aware of your obligations?” Hlawch opened the proceedings.
“I’m aware of the breeding programme,” I said cautiously. “I also understand that I’ll be required to do some publicity work for Zofi-Brennan and I’ve been led to believe that there might be some commercial sponsorships.”
He nodded and handed me three pages full of Capellan squiggles. “This is your itinerary.”
I glanced at it and handed it back. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He was dumbfounded. “You’re not even going to read it?”
“Give me one I can read and I’ll read it.” I turned to Madam Brabicoso. “Do you have some paper and a writing implement I could use?” She dug into her briefcase and found what I needed.
“Thanks. Now if you’d care to dictate, I’ll take some notes.”
He almost sniffed. “Well, today we have this meeting. In the afternoon, a representative of Zofi-Brennan will contact you about the ship. You will meet with them tomorrow to discuss final fitting out. This normally takes several weeks. This evening you will dine at the Kitchen of the Gods, a vulgar name but one of the best restaurants in the city, with one of the twenty three ladies selected for the breeding programme. You will spend the night with her. The following day you will attend the Merciful Blessings Hospital to open a new day-care wing and tour the hospital. That will take all morning. In the evening…”
“Before you continue,” I interrupted. “May I clarify a few points?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” I was doing my best to remain polite despite his tone and the obvious fact that the Commission were still trying to dictate my life for me. “The young ladies involved in the breeding programme are all volunteers?”
“Naturally.”
“And they are all compatible with me… I mean biologically?”
“Yes.”
“How compatible?”
He looked non-plussed.
“Perhaps, Sir MacAdam, if you were to explain your concern…?” Madam Brabicoso cut in smoothly.
“Sorry. I don’t know how to put this delicately so forgive me if I overstep any bounds. The purpose of the breeding programme, at least as far as I’m concerned, is to get the young ladies pregnant. Is that so? For it to be a success, all of them need to be impregnated.”
“Not necessarily,” Devoted-Acolyte spoke for the first time. He had a deep, resonant voice. “Anything above 50% would be acceptable. The record to date is 56.5%.”
“Would I be right if I said that the ones that weren't impregnated were those least compatible with the Winner?”
He closed his eyes and pursed his lips as if he was sucking a lemon. I realised he must be communicating with an ibic. Neither of his colleagues did and that made me wonder who was really in charge.
“You are correct,” he said, opening his eyes again.
Madam Brabicoso looked at me with a degree of respect.
“Hence my question about the ladies’ degree of compatibility.”
I Won A Spaceship Page 19