by John Scalzi
“Of course. Lord Marce, Lady Vrenna.” Ghreni gave a head nod to each, which they returned before sitting again. Formalities thus satisfied, he turned his attention back to their father. “My lord, my duke has sent me on a mission of some delicacy, and I wonder if it might be better if we spoke alone.”
“My children are my foremost advisors and I don’t keep secrets from them. You may speak to me in front of them with the same assurance of confidentiality as you would if we spoke alone.”
Ghreni paused for a moment and Marce was certain he was going to insist on speaking alone with their father. He glanced over at Vrenna, who had a wry smile on her face. Then he nodded. “Yes, very well.”
“What is your business, Lord Ghreni?”
“As you are no doubt aware, the duke is facing a serious challenge with the rebels.”
Vrenna snorted at this. “You mean to say he’s on the verge of losing his dukedom, my lord,” she said.
“The duke is somewhat more optimistic than your daughter,” Ghreni said, to Jamies. “Nevertheless, the challenge is real and the duke is now looking for ways to increase his tactical advantages.”
“Such as?”
“Weapons, my lord.”
“I have an antique bolt thrower left here by the previous count,” Jamies said. “And I believe Vrenna carries a sidearm at all times. Other than that I don’t believe we have any weapons.”
“The duke is aware that you don’t have weapons, my lord. But you do have money.”
“Not really. The title ‘Count of Claremont’ comes with remarkably little rentable land and no local or larger monopolies. It’s largely a courtesy title. I have my salary as chief auditor and an upkeep allowance for the palace. I recently sold some properties, but it’s still not a lot.”
Ghreni laughed. “Not your money, my lord. The emperox’s. We want to use it to buy the weapons the duke needs.”
Jamies’s expression darkened at this. “Explain yourself, sir.”
“The duke is aware that in your role as chief auditor, all imperial taxes and levies run through your office before they are sent forward to the treasury at Xi’an.”
“My office doesn’t send them forward. That’s the role of the chief of the imperial bank here on End.”
“Of course. And we have spoken to Chief Han, and she is willing to assist the duke in this endeavor. Chief Han also informed us that any transfer of imperial taxes or levies outside of their usual route to Xi’an must also be approved by your office.”
“That’s correct but simplistically presented. I may approve direct application of taxes and levies to imperially approved projects, like construction or infrastructure. Things that those taxes would go to anyway. That saves time, rather than sending the money away and then bringing it back.”
“Yes. And if you consult your records, you’ll see that two years ago, when this current uprising began, the duke asked for, and the imperial parliament approved, funding for the purchase of weapons to help suppress the uprising.”
“I don’t need to consult the records, Lord Ghreni, to be aware that the funds for those purchases were already allocated and the weapons purchased and shipped.”
“Then you’re also no doubt aware that the ship carrying those weapons, the Tell Me Another One, was attacked by pirates and boarded when it came out of the Flow. Its captain and crew fought valiantly to repel the attack but in the end many of the crew died, including the executive officer, security officer, and the owner’s representative, and the ship’s cargo was taken. The Tell Me barely limped into port intact.”
“I’m aware of the Tell Me,” Jamies said.
“The point is that the weapons are now in the hands of pirates. Pirates who intended to sell them to the rebels but who can be persuaded to sell them to the duke.”
“That’s what the duke’s own treasury is for,” Marce pointed out.
“Alas, Lord Marce, two years of fighting have depleted the duke’s treasury and also made it more difficult to collect taxes and other revenues. He needs help.”
“He got the help,” Vrenna pointed out. “The parliament authorized the weapons. But it’s also the duke’s responsibility to patrol the space between the Flow shoal and the planet. If pirates are operating there, it’s because the duke hasn’t been doing his job.”
Ghreni turned his attention back to the count. “The duke is aware that asking for this disbursement is unusual. His argument, and I think it’s a good one, is that parliament intended those weapons for the duke, and therefore in allowing these additional funds to go to the duke to repurchase the weapons, you are following their intent.”
“I don’t think that argument is as good as the duke thinks it is,” Jamies said. “As I’m also aware that the imperial garrison here has been told not to intervene in the matter.”
This got a nod from Ghreni. “The duke knows full well that the only noble currently under the protection of the imperial military is you, Count Claremont. He finds that interesting.”
“It’s not interesting at all, Lord Ghreni. As you’ve noted, the Interdependency’s money goes through my offices. The emperox values his money. Which is why I’m not convinced he will be happy to see it unexpectedly diverted. Nor would he be happy with me.”
“The duke is prepared for that eventuality.”
“That’s nice,” Jamies said. “Considering he will not be the one sent to prison for it.”
“Come, now, Count Claremont. Give the duke credit for some intelligence. Remember that we are nine months away from Hub and Xi’an. In those nine months, the duke can crush this rebellion and return with interest any funds lent to him. He will lend his authority to yours to argue to the emperox that you and Chief Han were acting in the best interests of the Interdependency. And in the meantime the duke promises that your loyalty will be rewarded.”
Jamies laughed at this. “There is irony in attempting to bribe someone who you are trying to get money from, Lord Ghreni.”
“The duke believes that money is not the only coin for loyalty.”
“And Chief Han was convinced by this argument.”
“Yes, she was, my lord.”
“So to sum up,” Jamies said, “you wish me to illegally transfer imperial funds to the duke so he may buy the weapons he already bought but lost due to negligence, because the person whom you have already suborned cannot do it herself, and to compensate for executing several crimes against the imperial state, you offer me nebulous, so-called rewards to be determined later, which are not actual money. Is this correct?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Ghreni said. “Nor would the duke.”
“Of course you wouldn’t put it that way. But that’s what you’re asking for.”
“So this means you’re unwilling to help the duke,” Nohamapetan said.
“I didn’t say that,” Jamies said, and Marce, for one, was entirely surprised. A quick glance over to his sister found her unreadable. “I may help the duke. But I don’t want either you or I, or the duke, for that matter, to pretend that we’re doing anything other than this.”
Jamies stood, signaling the interview was over. Marce and Vrenna stood as well. Nohamapetan picked up the hint and bowed. “What may I tell the duke?” he asked.
“You may tell him that I will have an answer for him in a week,” Jamies said.
“With all due respect, my lord, right now, a week is a very long time.”
“Not as long as the fifty years I’ll spend in prison if this all goes sideways, Lord Ghreni,” Jamies said. “That is, if the emperox doesn’t simply decide to have me killed.”
“May I humbly ask that I can say to the duke that he’ll have an answer within five days. Five days, I am sure, would be acceptable to him.”
Jamies appeared to think about this. “Very well, Lord Ghreni. Five days.”
“Thank you, my lord.” He bowed. “If the duke wishes to come see you himself, where may I tell him you will be, these next few days?”
“I’ll be here,” Jamies said. “As I always am. As I always have been.”
Ghreni bowed again, turned, and exited. Marce waited until Vrenna went and closed the office door behind him before speaking.
“You can’t seriously be thinking of doing that,” he said to his father.
“Why not?” Jamies asked.
Marce was gobsmacked.
“You’re buying time,” Vrenna said, coming back up to both of them.
“I am,” Jamies agreed.
“Buying time for what?”
“Until it doesn’t matter anymore.” Jamies pointed at the tablet that Marce was still holding. “I’ve modeled the collapse of the Flow streams, son. It will be years before they’re all gone. But some of them are already about to fail.” He tapped the tablet. “One of the first will be the stream from here to Hub. The model shows it’s already collapsing.”
“How long until it’s gone?” Vrenna asked.
“Another year. But it’s collapsing from the entrance shoal. The best-case scenario has it closing in a month. The worst case is in about a week. After that it will be entirely inaccessible. Any ship that’s here at End will stay here. Forever.” Jamies turned to his son. “Which is another reason you have to go, now. If you don’t go now, you’ll never be able to go.”
“You should be the one to go,” Marce repeated, to his father.
Jamies shook his head. “The duke’s about to be deposed. All the sitting nobles are being watched to see if they’re trying to abandon the planet ahead of his fall. And now I have to give Ghreni Nohamapetan an answer about the money. If I so much as leave this house, the assumption will be that I’m making a run for it. They’re watching me. They’re not watching you.”
“It makes sense, Marce,” Vrenna said. “You’re the only one who can explain this stuff as well as Dad can. And they won’t be paying attention to you.”
“Especially since I’ve made Vrenna my heir,” Jamies said.
“What?” Marce said.
“Yeah, what?” Vrenna said.
“I officially made Vrenna my heir as soon as I knew about the collapse of the Flow,” Jamies said, to his son. “And now you have a public excuse to leave End because you won’t inherit. Even right now no one would question it.”
“I don’t want to be countess,” Vrenna protested. “And I sure as hell don’t want to be imperial auditor.”
“Relax,” Jamies said. “There will be nothing to audit soon.”
“That’s … not encouraging.”
Jamies smiled at his daughter and looked back to his son. “I sold some holdings recently. It should be enough to get you passage on a ship and get you set up at Hub when you get there.”
“How much is it?” Marce asked.
“About eighty million marks.”
“Good lord!”
“Yes,” agreed Jamies. “I may have lied to that Ghreni Nohamapetan character about my net worth. The point is, Marce, now you have means, motive, and opportunity to leave End. Leave. Do it now. Tell the emperox what we know. If we’re lucky, he may still have time to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“The collapsing empire,” Jamies said. “And the darkness that follows.”
Chapter
5
Kiva Lagos didn’t get a miracle, but as far as she was concerned over the next week she got the next best thing: Sivouren Donher.
“He’s one of our franchisees,” Gazson Magnut said, speaking of the pompous-looking man currently loitering on the floor of the hold the Yes, Sir was operating out of in the imperial station. The franchisee was standing by a stack of haverfruit crates, the fruit inside of which had now come close to peak ripeness. The entire hold was saturated with a heavy floral scent that in the next few days would rapidly descend into rancidity. Magnut and Lagos were in a spare office given over by the station to the hold’s current occupants; they were staring down at the poor bastard.
“Okay,” Kiva said. “So fucking what?”
“He wants to buy passage for himself and his family. On the Yes, Sir.”
“Off of End? To where?”
“He said that he would figure that out later.”
Kiva snorted at this. “It’s not like there’s anywhere in the Interdependency that isn’t already maxed out in population. They haven’t built a new outpost or dug out a new city in decades.”
“I pointed that out to him. He said that would be his problem.”
Kiva looked at the man again. “We’re not running a cruise line here, Gazson.”
“No, ma’am,” Magnut agreed. “But if I may say so, it wouldn’t really do us any harm, either. We’re not running a full crew at this point, and we’re not recruiting as many new crew as I’d like here on End. If nothing else we can put him and his family on custodial detail and make them pay for the privilege.”
“Why are you having trouble hiring?”
Gazson shrugged. “There’s a war on.”
Kiva pointed. “He wants to leave.”
“It’s not the same, ma’am. He wants to leave forever and take his family with him. Everyone who has family here wants to be with them right now. Down on the surface there are huge numbers of people moving away from the open war zones. There’s a refugee crisis down there. Honestly, even if we hadn’t been barred from selling the haverfruit we wouldn’t have sold much anyway. There’s almost no market right now.”
“We still would have had our license fees and profits,” Kiva noted. Then she stopped, looked again at the man in her hold. “What’s this dude’s name again?” she asked Gazson.
“Sivouren Donher.”
“Has he been a good franchisee for us?”
“One of our most successful. It’s one of the reasons why he’s asking. I think he thinks we owe him.”
“Does he,” Kiva said. “Then I guess you better bring him up.”
Gazson nodded and went to retrieve him.
Close up Sivouren Donher was middle-aged, a little puffy, and had a look on his face that twitched between arrogance and anxiety so quickly that Kiva was certain he wasn’t aware his head was doing that. It was a look of someone who until the last few days was pretty sure he could ride out whatever nonsense this rebellion was about, and then suddenly realized he couldn’t.
“Lady Kiva,” Donher said, bowing. He looked at the seat Gazson Magnut had recently vacated in order to retrieve him. He clearly expected that he would be offered a seat, this meeting being between equals and all.
“You want off End,” Kiva said, not offering the seat. Magnut, who stood in the corner of the room, also not taking the seat, raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at the intentional breach of courtesy.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kiva nodded in the direction of Magnut. “Gazson here tells me that you’re one of our most successful franchisees.”
Donher smiled and nodded. “I have done well for your family, Lady Kiva.”
“Define ‘well’ for me.”
“For this current payment period, House of Lagos received four million marks from my companies. Uh, will receive, once the current unpleasantness you are having with the Duke of End is resolved.”
“Four million marks,” Kiva said. “That’s not bad. That’s not bad at all.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“So why the fuck would I want to mess with that?”
Donher blinked. “Ma’am?”
“You’re one of my biggest moneymakers. If you leave End, that money dries up. Logic dictates I tell you to go back to your orchards and factories and keep at it.”
“Ma’am … there’s a war on.”
“And? My people here tell me you idiots do this shit on a regular basis. In a few months you’ll all be back to life as usual.”
“Not this time, ma’am. This one is different. The duke is about to be overthrown. People who are known to be in his favor are being targeted and killed. They and their families.”
“And I suppose yo
u are best friends with the duke, aren’t you?”
“I am frequently at court, ma’am. As is my wife, who is especially close to the duchess. We have had them to our estate on occasion.”
Kiva squinted. “But you’re not noble yourself.”
“No, ma’am.” Donher shrugged. “There was some talk of knighting me this year. My wife and I made a considerable donation to the duke’s hospital charity. But such things are up in the air right now.”
“Uh-huh.” Kiva looked this fearful little social climber up and down and figured she had his number, all right. “Four million.”
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“You’re not just asking me for passage, Donher. You’re also asking me to let you out of your franchise deal with the House of Lagos. To abandon our income on this planet. Fine. That’ll cost you four million marks.”
“I have reached an agreement with my senior vice president to continue operations—” Donher stammered.
Kiva cut him off. “Our agreement is with you, Donher.”
“With my companies, ma’am—”
“They’re not your companies anymore,” Kiva said, cutting him off again. “You’re getting your ass out of town. We never made an agreement with whoever the fuck this senior vice president is. We don’t know if they’re competent to find their asshole with a flashlight and a map. We, the House of Lagos, are going to have to vet your company again. We are going to have to assess whether this vice president is worth doing business with. If he’s not, we are going to have to pull the franchise, which will inevitably lead to a bunch of legal stupidity and this asshole suing us, and then we are going to lose money because of it.”
“Lady Kiva, I can assure you—”
“You can’t assure me of a goddamned thing, Donher. Not anymore. You’re already off the playing board. You’re literally fucking useless to me right now. The only assurance here is money. A lot of it. In this case, four million marks. In cash, on the proverbial goddamned barrelhead. That’s the deal.”
It was interesting to watch color drain out of someone’s face. Kiva had read about it in books, but had never seen it happen in real life until now. Donher’s face went from ruddy and sweaty to pale and clammy. “I’m not sure I have that, ma’am,” he said.