by Amy DuBoff
* * *
Cris closed the holograph of the report projected from his handheld. It was like countless others he had presented to the High Commander in his time as Lead Agent. “Anything else?”
Banks steepled his fingers. “We’re getting close to prototype assembly for the independent jump drive.”
“That’s a polite way of saying we need to get the licensing terms established, isn’t it?”
Banks smiled. “You know me so well.”
But never as well as I think. “How will this even work? I guess Wil is essentially an independent contractor.”
“That’s a fair characterization, given the agreement he made with Taelis. And TSS technology holdings are handled by the Priesthood.”
Cris sighed. “Of course, that figures.”
“I know you’re wary of the Priesthood.”
“With good reason. They did try to kill me, after all.”
“Well, you’ve certainly demonstrated you’re worth more alive than dead.”
“How reassuring.” And I’m sure that opinion can change at a moment’s notice if I say the wrong thing.
“And without a doubt, Wil means a great deal to them. He’ll come to no harm.”
Cris groaned. “You’re not suggesting he go Tararia?”
“I don’t need to explain business custom to you,” Banks replied. “They must have a chance to woo on their own home turf.”
“Then the question is, do I go with him or not?”
Banks nodded. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
Wil might be safe, but I’m not sure I would be. “I won’t send him in there alone.”
“All right, then make your travel arrangements,” Banks instructed. “The sooner we can get going on production, the better.”
CHAPTER 11
Wil realized he had been staring into space when Saera cleared her throat. He straightened in his chair and looked back at the equation they had been working through on the study room’s desktop. “Right. So—”
Saera tilted her head. “You seem distracted.”
“Sorry.” Wil sighed and slumped back in his chair again.
“What is it?” Saera asked.
“I won’t be here for our next session.”
Saera looked almost hurt by the news. “Where will you be?”
Does she value our time together that much? “I need to go to Tararia. Preliminary licensing negotiations for the independent jump drive design.”
“That sounds… really tedious.”
Wil smiled. “Yeah, it’s going to be awful. Believe me, I’d rather be here with you.”
Saera flushed. “Well, business. I understand.”
I need to watch my wording. “Well, anyway, just keep working through these scenarios. You’re getting it.”
She nodded. “Thanks. Have a good trip.”
“I’ll try.”
*
Wil stared out the window of the shuttle at the island of the Priesthood. Few had ever stepped foot on the island. It was an honor to be invited, but Wil didn’t consider himself lucky. It’s just another way for them to use me. The independent jump drive is a tool of war for them, not something to benefit Taran society.
The rock cliff on the island’s western coast rose from the expansive ocean, forming a jagged gray wall two-hundred meters tall. Sea birds circled in the air as the shuttle swung around to the southern side of the island. The land sloped downward toward the sea, forming an open valley that looked out to the east. A sandy beach curved along the southern coast, and white stone one- and two-story structures were perched on stilts along the waterline, connected by ornate bridges.
The shuttle passed over the beachfront buildings and headed into the valley. Manicured gardens of tropical trees and flowers were terraced up either side of the broad ravine. Nestled at the crest of the valley at the center of the island, a white stone castle towered above the hills. Large windows with arched tops lined open breezeways connecting the different spires. Figures in light gray robes roamed along paved paths through the lush gardens.
Wil looked over to his father, who was staring out the window on the other side of the shuttle. “How many people are out here?” he asked.
“I have no clue,” Cris replied. “The Priesthood may be in charge, but there isn’t really a face to the organization. Maybe we’ll have a better idea after this meeting.”
Wil shook his head. “We’ll be meeting with legal reps. Whoever is really in charge here won’t be debating licensing terms.”
“Good point. They’re too busy controlling our fate.”
Wil noticed that the shuttle pilot shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I hope we get a tour. It’s a beautiful island,” Wil said aloud. Then, telepathically, “We need to be careful what we say around here.”
“All about appearances, right.”
Wil swallowed. The Priesthood had made him. They had a plan for his life and what they wanted him to do. History had shown the Priesthood would do anything necessary to make sure their plans came to pass. He and his father needed to tread cautiously.
Cris took a deep breath and nodded. “Well, I’ll let you take the lead on the discussion since it’s your invention, but I’m happy to jump in if you want me to. I’ve been through enough of these types of negotiations to know how to get a good result.”
Wil smiled, forcing back his nerves about being face-to-face with the Priesthood. “That’s precisely why I was happy you agreed to come along.”
The shuttle landed on a paved square to the eastern side of the main castle. Wil and Cris unstrapped from their seats.
Cris reached inside his jacket as he stood, producing a pair of tinted glasses supplemental to those he was already wearing. “I’ve been meaning to give you these. It’s far overdue.”
Wil’s heart leaped. Receiving a pair of tinted glasses from a TSS officer was a rite of passage for a Junior Agent. My training is almost complete. Normally there would have been more ceremony for the occasion, but his father knew him better than that. It was perfect.
Wil took the glasses from Cris’ outstretched hand. “Thank you.” He barely felt the lightweight frames as he put the glasses on. The tint of the lenses was such that his eyes were completely invisible from the outside, but his vision was unimpaired as though he wasn’t wearing anything.
“Now you look the part,” Cris said, looking him over with approval.
Wil nodded. “Let’s go.”
They exited the shuttle through the door in the side wall. As they came down the shuttle ramp, three men in suits came forward from the garden path.
“Welcome back to Tararia,” the man in the middle greeted. “I’m Allen Verni, and I’ve been asked to represent the Priesthood regarding licensing the independent jump drive to the TSS.” His perfectly combed hair and tailored gray suit fit the part.
“Hello,” Cris replied. “Wil and I are eager to hear your offer.”
Allen inclined his head. “Very good. Let us proceed to a more private setting for our discussion.”
“Thank you.” Wil followed Allen toward the main castle.
The gardens were even more impressive up close. There was incredible variety to the types of plants, with similar species grouped together so at first it wasn’t obvious that each segment was a slightly different type. The beds flowed into each other seamlessly, showcasing the spectrum of natural beauty.
The garden path led to an arched opening of carved white stone. Beyond, a breezeway ran to either side along the bottom floor of the castle, with openings branching off to other paths into the gardens and doors to inside the castle.
They entered the first door that led into the castle. Inside, the coved ceiling was three meters tall and adorned with ornate inlays of stars and flowers. Though clean and well maintained, there was an ancient aura to the space.
Wil looked around in wonder. The craftsmanship was breathtaking, but it all seemed empty—like it was just a shell. It made Wil uneasy.
/> The halls were unoccupied. They made their way to a grand staircase and took it up one level. At the top of the stairs, there were tall double doors into a conference room. The broad window on the back wall afforded a sweeping view of the fertile valley below.
“Please be seated,” Allen said, gesturing to two chairs on the side of the wooden table facing the window.
Wil and Cris sat down across from Allen and his companions.
“To business,” Allen stated. “Edwin Spaera, to my right, and Tim Bolaen are two of the liaisons between the TSS and the Priesthood on technology licensing matters. Their role will be to document the terms we agree upon during this discussion.”
“All right,” Cris said,” so what do you have to offer?”
“The Priesthood requests an exclusive license for the independent jump drive,” Allen replied. “We understand that an arrangement was in place between Wil and the TSS that any technology developed outside of standard operating hours would be retained by him as an individual. For that reason, we recognize that additional financial accommodations are necessary to justify an exclusive arrangement. The discussions here will only be for use by the TSS and all civilian applications will be disallowed until the expiration of the exclusive licensing term.”
“What kind of financial structure will go along with that?” Wil asked. “A fixed-fee term for the technology, or a per-system royalty?”
“Given the nature of the war and unknown future military needs,” Allen continued, “a fixed-fee license would be preferred.”
“For what duration?” Cris asked.
“A ten-year initial term,” Allen stated. “Unlimited number of systems based on the independent jump drive architecture you designed, exclusively for military use.”
“And what would be the fixed fee?” questioned Wil.
Allen folded his hands on the table. “750 billion credits.”
Wil looked to Cris, barely able to keep a straight face. “That’s insane. Why would they offer that much?”
“Because of the exclusivity,” Cris replied. “They’re trying to buy you off.”
“I don’t feel comfortable keeping this technology strictly for military use,” Wil replied. “Complete exclusivity for a ten-year term is off the table.”
Allen frowned. “That’s very important to us.”
“Well, it means a great deal to me, too,” Wil countered. “I began working on this technology out of necessity for the war, but I never intended for it to be held strictly for military use.”
“It’s only ten years,” Allen said.
Wil gazed back coolly. “Hopefully the war will be over well before that term is up.”
Allen cocked his head. “So the length of the term is what’s unacceptable, rather than the idea of exclusivity in general.”
Wil sighed and glanced at his father. “I guess.”
Edwin and Tim took notes on their tablets.
“Then what length of term would be acceptable?” asked Allen.
“Two years,” Wil replied.
Allen chuckled. “That’s not very long at all.”
“That’s more than enough time for the TSS to complete the R&D process and get production underway,” Cris chimed in. “If you can’t agree to two years, then we may as well just stop talking now.”
Allen looked alarmed. “Let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions.”
“We’ve presented you with a mandatory term. Do you accept it?” Cris asked, gaze steady.
Wil watched Allen squirm ever so slightly in his seat. He hadn’t seen his father in action before, but it was the perfect introduction to his negotiating prowess.
After a five second pause of drumming his fingers on the tabletop, Allen bowed his head. “Yes, we can agree to a two-year exclusivity term. After two years, you will be free to pursue civilian licensing.”
“Agreed,” Wil said.
Edwin and Tim made additional notations on their tablets. Edwin nodded to Allen.
“Given the shorter term, we need to look at an alternate fixed fee,” Allen continued.
“Naturally,” Wil said. “What’s your offer?” I really couldn’t care less about the money. I just don’t want the Priesthood to have complete control.
“Well, proportionally, 150 billion would be fair,” Allen offered
Cris shook his head. “There’s more value than that for the exclusivity, especially without any per-unit royalty. 200 billion.”
Wil took a slow breath. The dollar figures were only a fraction of his total assets related to SiNavTech as a Sietinen heir, but the number was still staggering—especially knowing it would all be his. He’d be able to buy an entire small planet if he wanted.
Allen consulted his tablet. He bit his lip and then nodded. “Fine. 200 billion credits for two years of exclusivity.”
Cris looked to Wil for his approval.
“Done,” Wil said.
Edwin and Tim made entries on their tablets.
“Now, to the details,” Allen said.
And the details were endless. For three hours, Wil actively engaged in discussion of minutia surrounding the licensing terms. By the fourth hour, he was slumped in his chair, bored and annoyed by covering the same ground over and over. Eventually, he sent out a telepathic plea to his father for a break, and Cris called a recess.
With reluctance, Allen allowed Wil and Cris to step into the hall.
“Thanks. I couldn’t hear ‘conditional modifier’ one more time without throwing him against the wall,” Wil commented as soon as they were away from the negotiation room.
Cris smirked. “This guy’s a real charmer for sure.”
“Aside from the unendurable tedium, I think it’s going pretty well.”
Cris eyed the door with suspicion. “Well enough. They’re offering concessions now, but I think they’re gearing up to hit us hard in the second half.”
“Second half?” Wil groaned. “I was hoping we were almost done.”
Cris stretched his legs down the hall and Wil followed. “That’s how they get you… Lure you into a false sense of finality only to bombard you with a whole new wave of demands. At that point, they hope you’ll agree to anything just to make the torture end.”
Wil shook his head. “I don’t know how you deal with this all the time.”
“Just have to keep the goal in sight.”
They reached the end of the hall, which terminated in a set of double doors. To their left, the hall opened to a balcony overlooking an atrium. The glass ceiling three stories above was etched with vines and foliage, and planters on the ground level contained assortments of flowers in deep red hues. Centered on one of the walls between the planters, Wil spotted two panels that resembled elevator doors.
“Where do you think that goes?” Wil asked, stepping over to the railing.
His father looked down to inspect. “Probably the Priesthood’s secret lair,” Cris replied in a tone that was only half joking.
As they leaned against the railing of the atrium, the doors below started to part. With the opening came a sudden hum of electromagnetic energy, almost as if an Agent was nearby.
Wil looked to his father. “Do you feel—”
“This area is off-limits without an escort,” Allen said from behind.
Wil and Cris wheeled to face him.
“Doesn’t status as a High Dynasty heir grant access to anywhere?” Cris retorted.
“We still have much to discuss,” Allen replied, dodging the question. He headed back toward the negotiation room.
Wil glanced back over the balcony but the door had resealed. The energy buzz was gone.
“Something isn’t right here,” Cris said telepathically.
“Problems for another time. Come on.”
They plodded through another three hours of negotiations. Though several of the remaining items would require finalization after Wil had completed the jump drive designs, most of the contract terms were in place by the end of the discussion. Wi
l and Cris signed some preliminary paperwork to solidify the terms, and they were escorted back toward the shuttle parked in the gardens.
As they returned to the shuttle, some of the figures robed in light gray were returning from the gardens. Of the three groups Wil and Cris passed, all of the robed individuals were men varying in age from early-twenties to elderly.
“Have you noticed there aren’t any women here?” Wil asked his father telepathically after they passed the third group.
Cris frowned. “Yes, I was thinking the same thing. It’s strange.”
“I wonder why.”
Cris shook his head. “Very little about the Priesthood makes any sense.”
They passed another group in the gardens near the shuttle, also all men. Wil and Cris exchanged glances as they passed. The group of men paid them no more than a subtle glance.
When Wil and his father arrived at the shuttle, Wil relaxed into his chair with a deep sigh. “Thanks for your help today.”
Cris smiled. “Of course. Finally a negotiation I could really get my heart into.”
Wil chuckled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of that money.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
* * *
Saera stared at the equation on the study room’s tabletop. It just wasn’t the same without Wil. Though it was scheduled to be a freefall training day, she didn’t have the clearance or the skill to practice in the spatial awareness training chambers alone. Working on advanced navigation was the next best thing.
She sighed, staring past the equation. Her heart wasn’t in it. I miss him. I actually miss him.
Wil had become a genuine friend to her. He was patient and kind, and he pushed her to learn and grow in ways she’d never imagined possible.
Saera wasn’t ready to admit that she wanted the relationship to be something more. Just having a real friend was enough. All the same, she wondered if Wil was thinking about her, too.
She hastily returned her attention to the equation in front of her. There was no sense thinking about what could never be. Wil was her friend and her commanding officer. That’s the way it had to stay.
After struggling to focus for another half-hour, Saera finally gave up and returned to her quarters.