by Isaac Asimov
“Explain.”
“A global investigation initiated by the Eurosector Civil Enforcement Agency into kidnapping and infant brokerage produced charges of conspiracy to illegally traffic in orphaned and stolen children involving several orphanage institutions and several medical labs. Nova Levis was part of the overall investigation, but no charges were filed against it. It closed down several months after the case was declared closed.”
“Any direct links to Nova Levis colony?”
“One of the chief researchers emigrated there a year after the laboratory was closed.”
“Anyone else? I mean, what about the other people who worked for the lab?”
“There were five department heads, all of them founding associates of the company. Three are now dead. The fifth is listed officially as missing. He was a Theian native living on Earth named Kyas Vol.”
“Missing. That could mean anything. Did anyone look into his disappearance?”
“Not that I have been able to ascertain.”
Ariel wrestled with her curiosity. Earthers maintained profound prejudices regarding anything that suggested humaniform robotics, even prosthetic limbs. Prosthetics were available, certainly, but people never talked about them. Like any prejudice, it manifested in bizarre fashions and displayed many blind spots and innate hypocrisies. Artificial intelligences proliferated on Earth, in many areas, and nonsentient robotics were employed liberally, so long as none of it came close to resembling a human. Prosthetics occupied a tolerated space within the complex hierarchies of Terran bigotry. She had no idea how advanced the technology was, or if any new research was currently underway.
“Stay with the colony, Thales. If you come across any more direct connections, explore them.”
“Very well, Ariel.”
“I’m going to my apartment now, Thales. I need some things. I’ll be back.”
“I should have a preliminary report for you when you return.”
She thanked the RI and left.
R. Jennie met her at the door. “Welcome home, Ariel. You have a message from Ambassador Setaris.”
“Thanks, Jennie. Pack an overnight bag for me, would you? I’ll be sleeping elsewhere tonight.”
“I had intended preparing crayfish almandine tonight, Ariel.”
Ariel gave the robot a look, startled at the note of disappointment she thought she heard. It was so easy to personalize robots, so easy to “inform “them with emotion and human expression, but it still caught her by surprise to detect it.
“Change of schedule, Jennie. Place the menu on hold for the time being.”
“Yes, Ariel.”
R. Jennie walked off to pack. They had devised a standard kit a long time ago when Ariel had spent more time away from the embassy, in the company of others–particularly Jonis Taprin, now Senator Taprin. It had been over a year since their last tryst and Ariel had spent most of her time confined to her suite of office.
Ariel sat down at her comm and keyed the ACCEPT but ton. Setaris’s face appeared on the screen.
“Ariel, I’m giving a dinner party tonight, I thought you would like to come. I’m appending a guest list. I’d appreciate it if you’d put in an appearance. We don’t see enough of you.”
“My my,” Ariel mused. “I must be coming up in the world.” She resisted the urge to call Setaris back and ask why. Instead, she scrolled through the list of invitees: The usual collection of ambassadors and close aides–Gale Chassik of Solaria, Trinik Hapellon of Capella, Frish Ioseco of Osiris, others–and a sprinkling of Spacer émigrés and industrialists.
And Jonis Taprin.
“What the...” Ariel stabbed the CONNECT on her comm and tapped in Setaris’s code. A few moments later she worked through Setaris’s secretary to Sen Setaris herself.
“Ariel, how are you?” the ambassador asked.
“Puzzled. You’re serious about this invitation?”
“Of course I am.”
“You’ve invited Jonis Taprin.”
“Yes...” Setaris frowned briefly, then her eyes widened knowingly. “Ah, yes. I forgot. My apologies, Ariel. The event is partly for him. He put out some feelers a few weeks ago to see if we might arrange some talks.”
“Concerning?”
“Concerning precisely the subject we spoke about earlier. I thought it might be worthwhile to have you there. If, however, you feel uncomfortable–”
Ariel shook her head. “No. I merely wanted clarification.”
“And you have it now?”
“Yes.”
Setaris smiled condescendingly. “I envy you. Will we see you?”
“Absolutely.”
“At twenty, then. Formal.”
“Very good, Ambassador. I’m honored.”
Setaris smiled thinly. “Till this evening, Ariel.”
The screen faded.
Ariel leaned back in her chair and stretched. “Just how much ass-covering am I going to need?” she wondered aloud.
“I packed the standard bag, Ariel. Will it be too much?”
Ariel looked around to see R. Jennie standing there, holding the overnight bag.
“I have a preliminary file on the requested material, Ariel,” Thales said when she returned to Derec’s apartment.
Ariel set the bag down at the door to the bedroom. “Go on.”
“Nova Levis was established as a Settler’s colony thirty-two years ago by special agreement between the Vas Domini Trading Company, a Settler cooperative sponsored by private endowment through the Church of Organic Sapiens, and Solaria–”
“Solaria? How do they figure in it?”
“The Tau Secordis system was originally developed as a mining franchise by three Solarian corporations which eventually became insolvent and were subsumed by the Solarian Department of Resource Development. The second planet, originally called Cassus Thole, after a modest amount of biosome intervention, is suitable for agriculture. Under the terms of a trade agreement with a limited corporation formed by six Settler worlds, Cassus Thole was renamed Nova Levis and subcontracted for settlement and development.”
“Why hasn’t Solaria protested the blockade?”
“Except for being the principal lien holder, Solaria has no representation on Nova Levis and has remained aloof from its operations since the first colony was established. There is still a small mining station with its own port used exclusively by Solaria. Nova Levis has for all intents and purposes represented itself as a sovereign world with rights and titles to its own territories. The colonists themselves have not even admitted to Solarian ownership and have engaged the current crisis as a duly constituted independent state.”
“So it’s not even common knowledge that Solaria owned the system?”
“The conditions of ownership have been allowed to grow vague. Solaria ‘s holding is listed in public flies as Cassus Thole. Except for the mining concession, Solaria officially conducts no business with the Settler government. Nova Levis has, since been regarded as a separate colony.”
Ariel laced her fingers together and tapped them lightly against her chin. She felt foolish now at having paid so little attention to the events of the past year. The Nova Levis blockade was the first and largest aftershock from the failed trade conference last year.
“Give me a brief on the blockade,” she said.
“Two years ago, Terran investigators traced a number of stolen shipments to ships making regular calls at Nova Levis. This was discovered in the wake of the Tiberius incident, which proved to be related to illegal traffic into and out of Nova Levis. Further investigation on the ground resulted in the deaths of three agents and partial evidence that Nova Levis is host to an unregistered spaceport. At this point, warrants were solicited through the Intersettlement Judicial Committee for a task force to visit and inspect all ports on Nova Levis. The governor-advocate of the colony refused and offered to conduct the investigation himself and report the findings. This was rejected. A further proposal was made that a joint task f
orce of Spacer, Settler, and Terran inspectors be deployed, and this, too, was rejected. Fifteen months ago, motions were placed before the Committee to establish a permanent inspection base at the edge of the system with a mandate to forcibly inspect all ships entering and leaving the system. This motion, of course, was rejected in due course when the Spacer legation insisted that robotic inspections be instituted for all traffic to and from any Spacer world. The station was never authorized, but Terran military ships began arbitrarily and at random stopping and searching ships entering and leaving the Nova Levis system. A series of protests were filed. The Committee became tangled with delaying motions by the Terran legation until a Terran ship was fired upon by an unregistered freighter caught leaving Nova Levis. Upon inspection, it was discovered that the ship was carrying contraband. The crew was arrested, the ship impounded, and the 43rd Squadron of the Terran fleet moved in to blockade the planet. That was eleven months ago. Subsequent negotiations have validated the blockade, although only one Spacer world has added ships to the Terran contingent, and no Settler ships have joined it.”
“That’s how it stands today.”
“Yes, Ariel.”
“Stolen shipments... any kind of manifest on what those shipments contained, or who they were stolen from?”
“That is a protected file. It will take some time to open it.”
“Do it. What about Solaria? What did they say when all this happened?”
“They have made no official statement to date, content, apparently, to follow Aurora’s lead.”
“Are those Auroran ships with the Terran squadron?”
“No, they are Theian ships. Aurora is remaining militarily aloof.”
As usual, Ariel thought wryly. “And no one has brought up Solaria’s past ownership?”
“No, Ariel,” Thales replied.
“Not even Aurora... but Solarian ships are still entering and leaving the system. How is that possible? As I understand it, a blockade like this is enforced at the port of origin as well. Solarian ships heading for Nova Levis would be stopped or at least noted and identified as blockade runners.”
“That is how the law reads. I will look into it.”
Something else teased at Ariel. “You said there were three Solarian firms that initially had title to the system. Who?”
“Strychos, Incorporated, M39-Viavel Corporation, and the Kysler Solar Industries.”
“Kysler... that sounds familiar.”
“Kysler Diversified Industries, Ariel. They are a Terran firm based on Titan, though no longer Terran-owned. The three Solarian firms I mentioned have all been subsequently purchased by the Hunter Group. Only Strychos remains as a semi-independent corporation, dealing in agricultural products.”
“Hunter owns Kysler?”
“They own a controlling interest.”
“What did they do? The Terran firm, I mean.”
“Primarily a holding company. Pharmaceuticals, raw material development, shipping, finance–”
“Stop. Any other correlations through their dependent companies?”
“No. However, Kysler purchased the physical plant in which Nova Levis was housed.”
“Really. What became of the rest?”
“After it closed down it was split up and sold. The REtD division went to Imbitek, which folded it into a subsidiary: Captras Biomed. Various pieces of hardware went to a number of small firms.”
“Imbitek owns the research and Kysler owns the shell... what did they do with it?” Ariel asked.
“Unknown. Current data suggests that the structure is sealed and unused. A retrofitting company was hired to convert it into a raw materials distribution plant a few years ago. After that I find no records.”
“Thales, I want a list of shareholders for each of those three companies: Kysler Diversified, Hunter Group, and Nova Levis. Prepare a hard copy for me. Let’s return to the colony. You said that a Settler cooperative took it over?”
“That is correct. Through private endowment.”
“Through a church, though. What was its name?”
“The Church of Organic Sapiens.”
She thought for a moment. “That’s Rega Looms’ church.”
“It is currently the church with which Rega Looms is affiliated. However, he has stepped down from its directorship for the duration of his senate campaign. He was not its director at the time the colony was established.”
“Did he belong to it?”
“I do not have access to those records. Would you like me to try to obtain them?”
“Maybe. Hold off for now.” Ariel drummed her fingers on the edge of the console. She could not shake the feeling that she was missing something. “Rega Looms despises the whole idea of offworld colonization. So does the COS–now. I suppose it didn’t then.”
“The Church of Organic Sapiens has undergone a number of fundamental changes in purpose in the sixty-eight years of its existence. The current one has been in place since Rega Looms became its director.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Eighteen years ago.”
“Display the exact dates.”
Numbers scrolled across one of Thales’ screens. The settler colony of Nova Levis was established eleven years before Rega Looms took directorship of the Church of Organic Sapiens. Ariel could see nothing significant about that, but she felt certain she should.
“When was Nova Levis–the lab–incorporated?”
The date appeared between the first two displayed. Nova Levis Incorporated opened forty-two months after the colony.
“Closing date.”
Fourteen months before Looms took charge of his church.
“There is a correlation,” Thales said. “Rega Looms was one of the initial shareholders in Nova Levis Incorporated. Not in Kysler Diversified.”
“All right... he couldn’t possibly have maintained it and represented a church that condemns prostheses. When did he divest?”
“Four years after its incorporation.”
“Did he start a panic?”
“Apparently not. Only three other shareholders divested in his wake: Kyas Vol, Tenebra Patis, and Gale Chassik.”
Ariel started. “Ambassador Chassik?”
“Yes, Ariel.”
“Was he ambassador then?”
“No, Ariel, he was Chief Attaché to Ambassador Masmo Pedesor.”
Ariel frowned. “Do you have those lists of shareholders?”
“Yes, Ariel.”
Another screen filled with names in three columns. The one for Nova Levis, Inc. was the shortest, the one for Kysler Diversified the longest. Names were highlighted in bright blue.
Ariel raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. Some people just turn up everywhere, don’t they?”
Glowing brightly in all three columns were the names of Alda Mikels, Gale Chassik, and former senator Clar Eliton.
“Thales, get Coren Lanra for me, would you? I think we need to talk before this goes much further.”
Thirteen
COREN KNOCKED ON the office door labeled KELVY TORANS, ACCOUNTS EXECUTIVE. When the woman behind the large desk looked up, he smiled and waggled his fingers at her.
“Coren!” Her grin dazzled. “Come in! You actually caught me with time on my hands.”
“I couldn’t be that lucky, could I?” He sat down across from her.
She touched a button, closing her door. “Yes, you could.” She gazed with mock seductiveness at him until they both laughed. “What can I do for you, Coren?”
“A little inside information.”
“Nothing that will get me in trouble.”
“I don’t think so. What do you know about Myler Towne?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Chairman protem of Imbitek?”
“The very same.”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her face, still and framed by a close-cut helmet of black hair, seemed almost childlike. When she opened her eyes, she drew a deep breath. “Joined Imbitek eleven ye
ars ago, New Accounts, and worked his way into Mergers and Acquisitions. Three years ago, he was on the Logistics and Projections board. The assassinations last year opened a position on the board of directors. He was nominated and elected within two weeks. After Alda Mikels received his sentence, Towne campaigned for the position of chairman, but it was given by the board reluctantly, and with the proviso that it was temporary, ending upon Mikels’ release.”
“How good is he?”
“Not bad, considering that he’s spent most of the past year fending off lawsuits and dealing with TBI investigations into the company. He’s actually turned Imbitek around in the last few months, so I’m beginning to recommend it again as a primary investment. They’re not as robust as they once were, but given this I can’t wait to see what they do when Mikels is back at the helm.”
“I knew Imbitek had taken a tumble–”
Kelvy grunted eloquently. “They very nearly dropped out of the Primary Three Hundred. Within three weeks after Mikels was sentenced to prison, Imbitek stock fell eighty points. Towne has it back up forty-eight points.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “Wish I knew. They’ve gone through a big restructuring, a lot of positions terminated, and he’s trimmed off some of the fat Mikels kept on as pet projects. But a big part is that Imbitek is buying back its own stock.”
“It had the revenue for that?”
“Apparently from the sale of offworld holdings.”
“Why ‘apparently’? Wouldn’t it be in their shareholders’ report?”
“Of course. But the convenient fact about offworld holdings is that local laws are flexible and there are a thousand ways to funnel money that can’t be traced. I say ‘apparently’ because you can never be sure if a holding on, say, Revis Logandi is real or just a fiction to hide funds.”
“So they sold holdings... no other way they might get the money?” Coren asked.
“Sure. The easiest way would be to borrow it. But they’ve made no loans for it and according to their reports over the last few years, their credit has been limited. Banks aren’t quick to count those offworld holdings I mentioned as reliable collateral, so credit is based mainly on available Terran assets and so on. According to that, Imbitek was overextended. Not dangerously so, but enough to limit them. If they were hiding collateral, well... I’m sure it would have angered shareholders to know the company had that available credit hidden from them, but under the circumstances no one complained. The policy kept those shareholders who had remained faithful from losing everything and even gaining a little.”