The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera

by Guy Antibes

  “Mr. Smith?” the man touched Jan’s elbow. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. We have no such record of dealings with your mother or the trustee.”

  “Can you point me to someone who could help me?” he responded.

  “No, I’m sorry, we have enough trouble keeping track of our own accounts with the impending destruction and all.” the man said.

  Jan could hardly keep a smile from forming on his face. He shook his head and offered his hand. Encountering an extremely weak grip, Jan thanked the man and left.

  Strike one off the list, Jan said. He didn’t expect to get it on the first try, anyway. Five more banks during the day yielded depressingly uniform results. Jan reeled from the oppressive attitude of the inhabitants. If he didn’t find the right bank from his list, he’d have to expand it to a lot more banks.

  He walked into the hotel, ready to call it a day. He remembered his cash shortage and walked to the counter. This time, he was met by a cheerful young desk clerk.

  “Hello sir. Can I do something to help you?” she said with a smile and a little life.

  “Why, yes,” replied Jan taken aback by the relatively blazing light of life emanating from the clerk. “I need to get some additional Rexalt dollars. Do you know of a bank close by that can do that kind of exchange?”

  “Of course. It’s in walking distance. If you turn left and go around the hotel and down the street two blocks, there is a small bank that does currency exchange. Its called Androvny Accounts, Limited. My uncle owns it. They used to be much larger, but when my grandfather died, my uncle took over and sort of let the bank go. He is exceptionally Rexaltian in his outlook and I’m afraid he has just about killed the bank except for a few large old accounts. But he’s about ready to retire. He has made enough money to leave Rexalt. I don’t think he’ll go, though.” The clerk paused for breath. “Oh please forgive me. I just love to talk to someone whose face won’t pinch up after a few words. So you’re from Impollon IV, huh? I hear it’s work, work, work there,” she asked brightly.

  “I’ve found it’s really work, work, work everywhere, if you need to get things done. I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t quite a bit done here on Rexalt II, in its own due time, of course.” Jan said smiling. His spirits were lifted just seeing someone else smile. “How do you stand it here when you are the only one so cheerful?”

  “I guess I’m just a throwback. That’s what my parents called me. Randine, the throwback. I guess there was a time when people actually wanted to be happy. I don’t know what happened to make them so glum?” she said.

  “Beats me.” Jan said. “I’ll go see your uncle. Thanks Randine.” He waved as he left the lobby and turned left.

  With the ever-present cold, Jan turned up the heat in his suit some more and continued down the street. The dinginess permeated everything. So little color. Does the sun ever make these people happier? Probably not, but then he did walk the streets in the middle of an arctic winter. No sun. But then it would only be a reminder to them of the Big Day. He came to Androvny Accounts and walked in.

  The place looked even more derelict than any of the other banks he had visited. There were no customers and only two employees. Jan went to the older man sitting at a desk amidst five empty ones. They looked like they hadn’t been touched for years. He wondered how far down his list Androvny Account would be. “Are you Randine’s uncle?” Jan said.

  “Randine, do you say? That dratted girl. A throwback she is. That’s what we all call her. So cheerful. Makes me uncomfortable, she does.” He peered suspiciously in Jan’s face. “What does she want me to do for her now?”

  “She doesn’t want you to do anything. She told me you could get me some Rexalt dollars. Can you? I need about a thousand dollars to see me through my stay here.”

  “Yes. I can do that. The sooner I get Impollon credits out of my bank, the sooner I can leave. A thousand you say? I guess can deal with an increase that small. That will be 1500 Impollon credits.”

  Jan handed a credit card over to the banker. “Smith, Jan Smith?” The man said as he read the name on the card. “What is your mother’s name?”

  “Efrena Smith.”

  “What a coincidence. Why do you know you are my last customer? I have your trust in this bank. My father set up your trust a few years before he died. Let me see.” the man was getting agitated. There was an excitement building up in him. “Rollum Freemen? Know him?”

  Jan could sense tension take over his body. It was only the slimmest of chances that he found his goal. “He should be the trustee for the account.”

  “Yes, yes he is. Do you have any other identification?”

  Jan showed him his pilot license and his Impollon IV citizen’s card.

  “Quite in order. Good enough for now. Come with me. By the way, my name is Osker Androvny.” He held out his hand.

  Jan shook it. Limp handshakes must be the norm on Rexalt, Jan thought, but his visit seemed to put some life in the man. “Do you have the original trust papers?” he said as they went to a back room.

  Osker went right to the only file drawer that looked as if it had been touched in the last decade. He pulled the drawer open and pulled out a data tab. “I update this every three days from the infonet and it contains all of the original paperwork.” he said pulling out a file.

  Osker put the datatab and the file on a table with a viewer. He placed the datatab in the slot, Jan walked around and stood behind Osker. “Get a chair! I want to show you the whole thing.” The man’s whole demeanor had perked up.

  Jan pulled up a chair, glanced down at it, then dusted off the seat and sat down.

  “See, here it’s fifteen years ago. Your mother and Rollum Freemen set this trust up for you. The trust can be turned over when you are twenty-one. What are you now, twenty-five? You can dissolve the trust at any time. Why have you waited so long?”

  “What was your procedure on notifying me that I could get to the trust? I was told it would come due when I was twenty-five.”

  “It shows here,” Osker pointed to the screen, “that Mr. Freemen was notified sixty days before your twenty first birthday, then thirty days, then on the day itself. He elected each time to keep the trust active and has done so annually since that time. If you are who you say you are, you can take over the trust today or continue to let Mr. Freemen remain trustee as long as you wish.”

  Freemen’s complicity in keeping me from my trust has been going on for at least as long Mother’s death five years ago. I can’t believe it, Jan thought. “What is the principal of the trust?”

  “In managed accounts of Impollon credits, over seven billion, and in stock, 37% of Smith Mercantile. That is worth at least forty billion credits. You are a very, very, very rich man, Mr. Smith. Didn’t you know about this?”

  “No. My mother never told me what was in the trust. She just said it was enough to make me comfortable. Rollo Freemen has kept all of this from me. I had thought the trust was situated on Impollon IV. I have a few other misconceptions. Where has the income gone?”

  “Freemen’s latest instructions have been to re-invest 70% of the income in Smith Mercantile stock, send 15% of the income to an account on Trasket VII, 10% in various other fixed investments and 5% of the income to an account on Wyring. The income, interest on the cash and Smith dividends, which are miniscule, amounts to about thirty million credits per month.”

  “Can I share something with you? I want you to continue to do everything following Freemen’s instructions. However, I want to sign the papers transferring the trust over to me. We will remain in contact with one another since I’ll want to withdraw some of the funds, probably from the fixed investments for a project of mine. Mr. Freemen has been helping himself to a bit more of the trustee fees than he should. You have helped me so much, what can I do for you?”

  “Do you know of a nice primitive planet that I can move to? I hate it here on Rexalt II.”

  “Who doesn’t? Other than Randine, of course”
Jan responded amiably. “You can move the trust administration to a bank on that planet and be my personal agent.

  Osker actually smiled. “I need to get out of here, out of civilization. Your trust has been the only thing that has kept me here. As you can appreciate, the fees on such an account are all I need to be comfortable. Even my wife doesn’t know how profitable the bank has been. But I am bored sitting around all day waiting for the sun to implode. I’d rather be bored on a nice little farm far away from the gloom.”

  “Osker, what if I personally set you up on a great little planet. I know of a little farm far away from it all. You can do as little or as much as you would like.”

  “It’s a deal. I have all the money I need. I’d like to do something other than look at empty files all day long.”

  Jan’s thoughts went to the Wankle farm in the outback on Gyron III. The Wankles could use a little tender loving care. “Sure, I know just the place.”

  “Great. Let’s get the paperwork completed. I assume you will let me copy your identity cards.”

  “Of course. Here you go.”

  Androvny took a fistful of cards and placed each one in an authorization box. “Please look in the eyepiece and place your hand on the plate.” Jan felt the prick of the pin on his palm as the DNA sample was taken. When the green light went on, the Osker handed the ID card back and did the same on a few of the other identification cards.

  “Now what about the petition?” Osker asked. “According to the copy I have, it is in force because you were just about to be declared dead. You’ve passed my ID tests, so I can ignore it. Rexalt II law has been satisfied. Petition or no, you have full rights to your trust now. But do you want me to file an update to the registry for you?”

  “No.” replied Jan. “I’ve already verified that I’m alive and back. If I can start tapping into my trust funds now, that’s good enough for me.”

  “Good. Now what is this planet like?” Jan spent a very pleasant afternoon describing Gyron III to Mr. Androvny.

  Jan’s next stop on his journey back up the trust trail was Trasket VII. He knew where the 15% went on Wyring.

  ~

  Compared to Rexalt, Trasket VII was the picture of normalcy. Jan carried authorization papers from Osker and didn’t have to find the bank this time. Freemen had chosen the Central Bank of Trasket for the first transmission point for this branch of income distribution. Trasket was a conventional planet, well within the active sphere of Impollon IV.

  When he arrived at the bank, upon presentation of his papers he was ushered into an opulent conference room. The room was paneled in a black stone. Depictions of ancient Trasket naval battles adorned the walls, inscribed into the stone. Active form fitting seats cradled Jan as he shifted nervously waiting for the manager to arrive.

  “Can I help you?” the manager asked Jan.

  “Yes, my name is Jan Smith. I’m afraid there has been some chicanery with my trust and I am conducting some discreet enquiries personally. Osker Androvny of Androvny Accounts, Rexalt II, has authorized my investigation.” Jan presented the data tab.

  “This is a little extraordinary. Can you prove your identity?”

  “Of course.” Jan handed over his ID card.

  “Please wait while I get a viewer and an ID box. The manager left the office and quickly came back with a viewer and ID box under his arm.

  After verifying Jan’s ID, the viewer was turned on.

  “Let’s see what we have here. Hmm. It appears the trust instructions are very complicated. The amounts are sent to seven different locations. I’m sure they go elsewhere. It seems that these instructions were set up by the trustee, Rollum Freemen. You see, all of these are transit points go elsewhere. Since Central Bank is merely a transit point, I can’t help you any more than that. Do you have any changes from Androvny or from Rollo Freemen?”

  “Not at this time. I may get in touch with you later, though. Please be discreet and tell no one. Especially, don’t tell Mr. Freemen. As you can see from these papers, I am now in control of my trust. Any change in the instructions from Mr. Freemen are to be made only upon authorization from me. When I give you the word, cut off the flow of funds. I may authorize others to trace the funds and I’m sure you will cooperate with them. Can you do that?”

  “Of course, Mr. Smith. I will follow your instructions exactly. Do you mind signing this?” The manager spoke into a small bulb that he pulled from his pocket. He showed Jan the viewer with the instructions now on the screen. Jan placed his hand on the ID box and pressed a stud on the viewer. Authorization was made.

  Jan was relieved to get a firm hand from a banker after shaking hands on Rexalt II. Back to Impollon IV, for more strategy, Jan thought. He couldn’t risk moving forward too fast and setting off any alarms prematurely.

  ~~~

  Chapter 39

  “Merinnia! How are you?” Jan said as he walked into the basement offices.

  “Jan!” She rose up when she saw him and ran to his arms. He hugged her as she started to sob. “I’m so glad you returned. Things have been so terrible here.” She looked up at his face. He looked down into her reddening eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I promised father not to do this.” She said wiping her eyes with her hands. “It’s not that he made me promise anything. He told me that we owed it to you for me to keep focus on what you are doing for Diltrant and Grethia. But it’s been so hard!” she started to sob again. “It’s been so hard since Gyron III to restrain my feelings. When I left you at dinner, I was so ashamed because I became mad at the whole situation, not at you. You have forgiven me, haven’t you?”

  “Of course. I was frustrated too. I thought we could put our relationship on a little different footing that night. Maybe we weren’t ready then.”

  A knock at the door made Merinnia go to her desk and began to wipe her face. Jan said, “Come in.”

  “Jan you’re back. Great we have a lot to talk about.” Riban stopped and looked at Merinnia, then back to Jan. “Did I interrupt something?”

  ‘Maybe a little homecoming celebration,” Jan said.

  “How was the trip?”

  “Sit down and let me tell you,” Jan pointed to a chair for Riban, but remained standing and recounted his adventures.

  “They’re all vicious people. Even the Freemen’s!” Riban hotly observed. His eyes flashed in anger. “They have no honor.”

  “And I suppose you’d not do the same?” Merinnia said.

  “I’d not do the same. Yes. I would never, I have never, betrayed my friends and family. For me it would be a tremendous weight to carry around. But Jan, does your fabulous wealth change the strategy?”

  “Not really. I am sure the bankers won’t betray my confidence. You would have to go to Rexalt II to experience the meaning of dour and fatalistic.” Jan grinned. “I am still contemplating our approach, but we have now have more than enough resources at our disposal to fund a more expansive launch without waiting to build up our resources. I was a little concerned before, but not now. Even without our scheming, it is still important to re-introduce the portal. Merinnia, how is our development work going?”

  “That part is back to normal. You know about the break-in. There have been two more. This time they are resorting to meanness, just destroying things. It’s so horrible.” The frustration started Merinnia’s tears to well up again. “I’m sorry, I just hate the wanton destruction and disregard. It reminds me of my uncle and his men when they took over Diltrant. Our offices might have burned down, except for Riban’s special security and fire prevention systems.” Merinnia smiled at Riban through her watery eyes. “They still haven’t a clue about our basement operations. Our basement people, still haven’t a clue about the upstairs operation. Riban and I think that the authorities are letting the damage happen.”

  “Riban?” Jan said, looking at his associate.

  “I’m certain someone, your father or a relative, is instructing the police to let the matters remain un-investigate
d. Artis hasn’t admitted to anything, by the way. Upstairs is a virtual mess after last night’s activity. I’ve got our remaining employees cleaning up.”

  “I suppose that has helped your position with my father?”

  “Maybe. I don’t understand. Why do the destruction now? It doesn’t make sense. But I can think of no one else.” Riban answered perplexed.

  “I think the primary source is Trimpnell Smith, but I don’t know how involved my father is. It doesn’t matter who, since we’ll have to take appropriate measures and post guards. Did the intruders install monitoring devices when they destroyed the place?” Jan said.

  “I didn’t think of that!” Riban responded. “I’ll have some men come in and check.”

  “Didn’t you tell me the windows and walls are sonically shielded?”

  “I understand your point. The latest break-ins might have been a ruse to get some bugs past the exterior shielding.” Riban observed nodding his head in agreement. “If you will excuse me, I will get the ball rolling. Let’s talk later.” Riban rose smiling and shook Jan’s hand. “It’s good to have you back. The curtain rises soon, eh?”

  “As soon as everything is in place.”

  When the door closed. Jan looked at Merinnia. The reunion moment had passed. Both could sense it. It was time to return to work.

  “When will the portals be ready for introduction?” Jan asked.

  “In two weeks we will have all the parts delivered for assembly and the new anti-tampering devices have already been designed by our downstairs engineering staff.”

  “Riban will have the upstairs humming again quickly enough, I think.” Jan remarked. “OK. It’s time to plan for our press conference. Let’s schedule it for three weeks from today. I think we will let my relatives sit tight for a little while. I want to concentrate on creating portals, and then on creating a box for my relations. But first, a little gift for you from the Freemen’s.” Jan handed her the book on Grethia.