Fine point.
“I do not abandon my people,” I said, thinking for a moment. “Never and for nothing. But teamwork is something that you can only feel and create yourself,” Noticing that it confused the Russian, I explained, “It's all about trust. In any case, I will not leave my people. Whether you trust me or not, it's your choice. If you trust me, you will feel integrity. If you don't, no matter what I do, you will remain just employees. I understand that trust does not come on a whim. Just as I can't prove to you that I'm worthy, nobody can.”
Seeing that Berkutov was not going to answer yet, I reached out for my own pack of cigarettes and lit up.
“This is more or less philosophical reasoning,” I continued. “In any case, everything will become clear only over time.”
“Indeed,” Euge-Euge came back to senses. “Let's talk about more mundane things.”
That's when Svyatov finally brought the tea and coffee.
“See,” I said to Berkutov, wanting to make the atmosphere more relaxed. “We don't even have an aid. Why you may ask? It's a high-security facility. We should have more people here. At least someone who can bring us tea.”
“Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity,” grumbled Svyatov. “They should work harder at the polygon. We don't have enough people as it is.”
“Are you the one who's going to bring tea for me?”
“You can do without tea.”
“And what about giving orders?”
“We've been using walkie-talkies all along.”
“Whatever,” I waved my hand. “But as soon as we get enough people, your excuses won't work.”
I carried memories of five consecutive day-and-night duty shifts throughout my entire life. How could I be easy on anyone after that?
“And how many fighters do you have, if it’s not a secret?” The former Brigadier General asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
I didn’t know if I should tell him or not. Ultimately, all he’d need was a wish to find out how many people I had and he could easily accomplish that goal.
“At the moment, I have just over five dozen. Plus two officers.”
“Not too many.”
“It took me a month to recruit these. It's an active recruitment,” I corrected myself.
“Not that good of recruitment.”
“Damn, Mr. Berkutov, are you provoking me to be frank with you? Take my offer and you'll understand how wrong you are. In the meantime, let's talk about what I can offer you.”
“Alright.”
I was just about to start listing all the advantages when I changed my mind, nodding at Alexei.
“How about we return to this conversation after Alexei gives you a short tour of our base? At the same time, he can give you the low-down.”
It seems to me that he didn't tell Berkutov about our business on the way here.
“He can also explain what I can give you from a practical point of view. You can then decide for yourself what your terms should be. What do you think of that?”
Looking from me to Svyatov and back, our guest chuckled and, after thinking for a few seconds, nodded.
“Deal. I think it will indeed be better. Should I wait a few minutes outside the door?” He asked ironically.
“Be so kind,” I answered kindly.
When the door closed behind him, I waited for a couple more seconds and turned to Svyatov.
“To be honest, I don't believe that he will run screaming at every corner about our dark deeds, but telling him everything right off the bat would be silly, too. It's not even about mistrust. Although, you can hint at that.”
“Got it. Boss, the problem is I know little myself. I was never interested. I only cared about the things that relate to the military aspects.”
“Too bad,” I shook my head. “You don't have to be keen, but you need to be in the know.”
Not the best time to preach, but damn it!
“Do you know how much I spend on ammunition?”
“Uh, approximately,” he answered uncertainly.
“Okay. And how much I can spend on it?” Silence was my answer. “You're probably thinking that it's the accountant’s job to keep track of that?”
“Something like that,” he still sounded uncertain.
“You're right. But the key word in this sentence is ‘job’. You could at least talk to me about this, so you know what to expect next month. And if anything should be and can be added to my orders. You're pretty close to upper management to ignore such knowledge. Frankly speaking, you are one of my closest people, and it is because of your attitude that I can't allow other people to do part of your work. It's time to change your subordinate mindset. If you were a fool, and you are not... Okay, go,” I waved my hand, “If two hours is enough for the tour, come back here. If not, take care of his lodging. It's important that you take it slow.”
“I got it.”
“Don't sweat it. It's fine. You have plenty of time to get better. Ask Kuroda to help if you have to. That stinker has already prepared a couple of reports and a well-timed estimate for next month.”
“Got it, boss! I'll do my best,” Svyatov didn't sound as gloomy anymore.
Two hours was enough for them. When they knocked on my door, I was talking with Akemi, discussing preparations for the weekend.
“One second,” I said into the phone. “Yes, come in! And how much did he ask this time?” When the men came in, I put a finger to my lips, calling for silence. “Actually, that's not much, but the trend is depressing. Bloody policeman, he just needs to look the other way, figuratively speaking. The fatso doesn't seem to understand that he might lose his earnings. The hell with him. Although you know, tell him that we're gonna stop cooperating with him. No, that's too much. Just tell him that. Well, yes, I understand, but he does not know what I know. It doesn't matter. Don't worry, everything will be fine. Yes, I guarantee that. See you later.”
I hung up and looked at the two men.
“So,” I sighed, then took a deep breath to continue my thought, but couldn’t find the words. “That's it. Okay, let's get back to our business. Tell me, Mr. Berkutov, did you get the gist of what I can offer you? Approximately?
“The gist—yes,” he said, tapping his finger against the arm of his chair.
“Then ask.”
The first question he asked did not relate to military affairs.
“How many people can you hire now?” He emphasized the word “now.”
Clever dude.
“I suppose you mean civilians?” I raised an eyebrow and, getting a nod, continued, “Without, let's say, going to extremes, about two hundred families. Those will have work. That is, calling everyone by their own names, ballast. Sooner or later, and I want to hope that it is sooner rather than later, I will find work for everyone. But if you just want me to pay some amount to each family, I can provide for even more, but that’s bad job, as you understand.”
“It sounds a little bit wrong, but I understand.”
“I know that it is wrong,” I chuckled. “But I prefer not to curse.”
“Not until the first battle.”
Well, what should I answer you?
“Hm, commander,” said Svyatov wryly.
“Even so?” his former clan co-member was surprised. “You didn't tell me.” Svyatov shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, I get it.”
That´s right. You don’t need to know some things until you’re one of us.
“Mr. Berkutov?”
“Uh? Yeah, yeah. What about the fighters? How many can you take?”
“All that you have” is probably not a good answer. Neither is some average number. How many, in fact, can I take? A thousand?
After thinking about it for a minute, I realized that I couldn't take a thousand. That would be too many. At least right now. Five hundred? That's more reasonable, but that would be pushing it, too. Not to mention that I don't need that many right now. Four hundred? Three hundred? Having estimated what I could
do with these people, I decided that this was the most optimal number. The ideal maximum, you could say.
“Three hundred people,” I answered at last. “That’s for fighters only. Civilian personnel is separate.”
“Hmmm. Just out of curiosity, how many do you need?”
“Depends on the kind of people. Considering they are the former guardsmen of the clan, then just three hundred.”
“So you can take more?”
Does he have hundreds of former guardsmen just sitting around there or what?
“Up to five hundred,” was my answer. “But I'll have to find work for them.”
“Excuse me?” He did not understand.
“A prince is fed by his squad. Have you heard of such an expression?”
“It's strange that you have,” he shook his head.
“I can give you the Japanese equivalent too,” I shrugged.
“I see. Well, I understand everything. I have a question now. What about the MIAs?”
“Mmm. Can you be more specific?”
“Can you get more of them?”
This question is somewhat strange. Why doesn’t he ask if I can give them weapons?
“Heh, I can get them,” I scratched the tip of my nose. “What's the point?”
“I can... if we agree, initiate the transfer of a dozen former heavy infantrymen. And the fact that they survived the war says a lot about their experience. The thing is that they can fully show their potential only with the MIA.”
I still didn't understand. I had twenty “armor suits” waiting to be worn. Why did he need more? Didn't Svyatov tell him that the Russians, while still military, were not going to stay here? Strange, he should have. I decided to play along.
“Acquiring them is not a problem, maintenance is. Although, I can figure out that problem. But I must warn you: I cannot get just anything. I can get only what's in stock. That is, if we want to buy something decent,” seeing a certain lack of understanding on Berkutov's face, I explained, “There are two markets: the black market and the official one. Both markets have junk goods and some good stuff. I have no connections in the black market. However, thanks to my connections in the official market, I can buy from an elite salon. But the thing is that ordering something there is almost pointless. Because of the aristocrats, I will always be at the end of the line. But it’s not all bad, there is plenty to choose from without placing custom orders.”
“Can't the Koyamas help with placing an order?” Svyatov asked.
“I don’t want to acquire debts for no reason at all,” I frowned. “Even small ones. It's complicated enough.”
“All right, we sorted that out. What about MDs or BRs?”
I almost choked.
“Berkutov, get real. I beg your pardon, Mr. Berkutov, but why in the hell do we need MDs, and even more so BRs? Where, and most importantly, against whom are we going to fight?” I did not even mention the main problem.
What’s already been said is enough.
“H-he. Let me rephrase that. Do you need pilots?”
Oh boy! And here is the main problem.
“Of course! Do you have any?”
“Sure thing. Only where will you fight with them?” He asked with a grin.
“I'll figure it out somehow.”
I'll explain if anyone does not understand. It is not easy to buy walking equipment, of course. Even I, without any connections, can get a couple of medium MDs. Yes, they will be of sloppy quality and not the best models. But that’s not the problem. The problem is that there is simply no one to use them. Getting a trained pilot is problematic, even with connections. Many do not bother with looking, but simply train their own people. Such training is very expensive, by the way. And yes, there are institutions for it. Some for aristos, some not. But one thing is for sure: ordinary people are taught only if they are sent there by their bosses. That is, those people who are already employed. Even in the army, not everything is simple. And tell me honestly, if you left the army, and had some experience operating walking machinery, where would you go? To a firm, company, organization? Aristocrats in a bloodline or clan? A position of the servant of the clan or clan member will be provided to you, if you do the latter. For commoners, the answer is obvious. The thing is, there are very few of those commoners. Personally, I expected to get a pilot ONLY after I got the coat of arms.
“Well, what about the equipment,” Berkutov repeated.
“If there are pilots, there will be equipment,” I growled. “My firm can have eighty tons of walking equipment. That’s either two medium MDs or a light BR.”
More recently, I had mistakenly believed that the limit of Shidotamoru was two medium MDs or one light BR. It turned out—thanks to Tanaka, who enlightened me—that the limit is not the quantity of equipment, but its tonnage and class. My company could get the first three: a light MD, a medium MD, and a light BR. There are six total, and further, as you have already understood, there are heavy MDs, and medium and heavy BRs. Fourth class was the limit for a private organization. That was in Japan. In some countries, fifth class was possible. That is, whatever I did, as long as I did not have the coat of arms, my limit was a heavy MD. Actually, I didn’t care. I had nowhere to use all that equipment. But it would not always be so, and I needed pilots no matter what.
“Eighty tons...” Euge-Euge uttered. “That's four light MDs.”
“A little more,” I corrected him. “The French AX-30 is ten tons.”
“What’s the use of them?” frowned the Russian.
In some ways, he's right, of course, but... well, let's not argue.
“It's an example.”
“Only an example,” he must not be a big fan of small equipment. “Okay, I’m glad we sorted that out, too.”
“No, no, hold on. What about the pilots?”
“If we get to a deal, you’ll have your pilots,” he decided to change the topic.
“How many? And why haven’t they found jobs for themselves?”
“Four. Because no one wants to take them,” he replied unwillingly and then clarified, “ALL the pilots of the clan died, and they survived because they did not participate in the war. More precisely, at its apogee, when everyone died, and the main bloodline was exterminated. I cannot tell you the details, but I assure you they are not cowards. On the contrary, they had a mission, and they fulfilled it to the end. Knowing what reputation it'd earn them in the future.”
“Okay,” I said, tapping my fingers on the table.
These pilots can become perfectly loyal subordinates for those who risk taking them. Cripes, it will be a disaster if I cannot recruit this guy.
“Clear enough. Any other questions?”
Actually, I had expected to give Berkutov about an hour. And another hour tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. In short, I wanted to act slowly, but systematically. In the end, this bastard kept me for two and a half hours, and as a result, I went home during rush hour. It took me another two hours to get home, and I did so many useless things while I was getting there. It would have been better if I went to bed instead, though. Considering that I had to be at work... school, god damn it, in the morning.
Standing in my hallway, I looked deep into the house and tried to understand what it was I did not like. No, I didn’t feel any danger, it was something else. And when I realized what it was, I sighed heavily. Was I getting old? It was silence that made me tense up, the hollowness of my home. Despite all the crap I had to deal with, it was much more fun at the base. Or rather, not as sad.
What came over me? I should go make dinner. Although to hell with it, I'll survive. It's too late now, and tomorrow I still have to get up early and go to school.
The doorbell caught me in the kitchen, as I was making coffee. Whether it was all garbage that coffee woke you up, or maybe it just didn’t work for me, but I never really bothered to drink it. I went into the hallway, opened the door, and stared at the visitor.
“Good evening, uh, Kagami-san. Did somethi
ng happen?” The woman was dressed in a light purple yukata and was holding a picnic basket.
“Tell me, Shinji, did you have dinner tonight?” She asked sternly, and a little annoyed, and thoughtfully. I’d only heard such a tone from my mother. Back in that other life.
“No, Kagami-san, I didn't have time. I was going to...” I waved somewhere behind my back, “but it's too late now.”
“Well. Warming up,” she lifted the top slightly, “will not take long.”
I wouldn't be able to tell her to leave even if I could.
“You are a great woman, Kagami-san,” I said, stepping aside.
“I'm just a woman, Shinji,” she replied, walking into the house. “Just a normal woman.”
While I was eating dinner, Kagami was busy in the kitchen, preparing what looked like a salad. At the same time, she was chatting me up about my life. But very lightly. Such things as when was the last time I had a real dinner, for example? Or if Shina behaved well at school? When I mentioned something about a new line of clothing coming out, Kagami changed. It didn’t last long, but enough to catch it. Surely witches have a specific name for such a phenomenon. We, men, just know that if you felt something like this, it meant that somewhere nearby there was a pregnant woman.
***
Aketi did not have their own neighborhood, but the downtown mansion was located on their ancestral lands. I'm sure that the nearest houses were occupied by members of the clan, as well. Arriving at the gate in my brand-new Maybach, I was shown into the house by a doorman. From there, I was led to the living room and left alone for a while. Not for long, though.
“Good evening, Sakurai-kun,” a young man walked into the living room. If I'm not mistaken he was Aketi Takeichiko—heir to the clan, twenty years old. “Welcome,” he said with a half-smile on his lips. “Did you get here okay? Are you tired? Would you like some tea?”
“I would appreciate it, Aketi-san,” I bowed my head.
After my words, Takeichiko pushed aside the door panel near which he was standing, and quietly gave the order.
“Well, do you want to tell a little about yourself? It’s not every day you meet a child who has independently created and retained such a company as Shidotamoru.”
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