by Ramsey Isler
“Sounds like my kind of company,” Sam said
Yusef popped a plastic pen into his mouth and continued. “About two years ago, the company’s founder started putting money into big chunks of land that appeared unimportant at the time. In terms of land area, Tanzania is bigger than France, but with twenty million fewer people, so they’ve got a lot of land to spare. Most of Tanzania’s business comes from agriculture, so people just thought the guy was buying farmland. Nobody thought he was actually snatching up the richest deposits of platinum, palladium, and rubies on the whole damn continent.”
“Is he some sort of geology expert or something?” Sam asked.
“Nope,” Yusef said. “He studied international business. No one really knows where he got his eye for prospecting, but he’s damn good at land grabbing. But there’s a catch. Nobody, not even citizens, can actually own land in Tanzania. Only their government can own land. So Kalagho has a ninety-nine year lease on all these properties.”
“So the Tanzanian government is his landlord,” Sam said. “He can’t be too happy about that.”
“There are other ruby mines in the country,” Yusef said, “all of them owned by European companies, and they seem to be doing okay. But the key here is that Kalagho is a native and his company is only staffed by Tanzanians. That makes him super popular with the locals and the government. He’ll probably get cut a lot of slack, and get a lot of advantages his competition won’t.”
“How do his financials look?”
“Great,” Yusef said. “He had to invest a lot initially to get the mining equipment and staff set up, but the mines are spitting out crazy rocks that go for hefty sums on the market. Apparently there’s a special type of ruby that can only be found in his mines.”
“Why aren’t the luxury goods companies beating down his door?” Sam asked.
“Their operation is popular but still relatively small,” Yusef said, “but the main reason is that Kalagho won’t deal with just anybody. He’s really picky about his partners, apparently.”
“We’ll just have to make our case then,” Sam said.
“But do you think it will be worth all that effort?” Yusef asked.
“Of course,” Sam said. “We need to increase profit and decrease production time while keeping volume pretty much the same. Adding value to the pieces through rare gems, and doing it all in-house will achieve all those goals, right?”
Yusef chewed on his pen before answering. “That’s all true. If you employ the gemcutters yourself you can dictate the schedules and eliminate the problems with moving the gems from the distributors to the cutters, and the cutters to us. Plus, if you can get this Kalagho guy to give us a deal on palladium for our white-gold alloys, we can cut out some middle-men there too. ”
Sam nodded. “I’m glad that logical head of yours never changes.”
Yusef shrugged. “It’s not a bad plan. I talked to Kalagho’s people, and they’re open to at least meeting with you. But they want to see what we’ll do with the gems.”
“Buy one from them and have it delivered,” Sam said. “I’ll have my cutter work his magic.”
“Wait a second,” Yusef said. “You have someone to cut for you already?”
“A few people we already employ have the skill,” Sam said.
“Huh? I don’t remember seeing that in any resumes.”
“They’re freelancers with the same group doing our assembly,” Sam said. The lies came out so easily these days.
“Ah,” Yusef said. “How much extra is this going to cost us?”
“The labor charge will be negligible,” Sam said.
“Oh boy,” Yusef said. “We’re already in trouble.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Skilled labor never comes cheap,” Yusef said. “The upfront price may be low, but there’s always hidden costs.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Sam said. “You can go now.”
Yusef smiled, and waved goodbye. Sam dove into the reports on Kalagho Mining, and spent the rest of the morning forming her strategy.
Chapter 18
For Sam’s plan to work, she needed to be sure the elves could deliver top-notch cut gemstones. They had always proved remarkably adept at any type of craft so she wasn’t truly worried. But she needed to be sure.
When she finally tracked Piv down and brought him up to speed, he tackled the problem with his usual exuberance. “Pogonip is the best gem chipper I’ve ever, ever known,” he had said. “Yes he is.”
So Sam decided to give Pogonip a visit.
Sam had to revisit her photo database to remember which of the hundreds of Kith was Pogonip. Once she memorized his features, she went down to the workshop to set things in motion.
Piv told her that Pogonip kept odd hours for an elf—he worked mornings. So Sam visited the shop in the daytime for the first time in weeks. She keyed in the security code for the back door and entered. The place was quiet, quieter than it had ever been since the Kith moved in. Initially, she thought this was because the workshop was empty and the elves were off doing whatever it is that elves do in their spare time. But as she ventured deeper into the factory she found a surprise. The elves were sleeping.
They were scattered in clutches of four or five, and huddled together like resting kittens. Most of them slept under the work desks and benches, but a few had decided to cuddle up in dark corners. They slept soundlessly; there was no snoring. In fact, the only sound in the place was a faint grinding. Sam went off to find the source of it. After tiptoeing around groups of snoozing Kith, she found Pogonip busy at work.
Like most of the elves, Pogonip was a slender fellow. But he was one of the few bearded elves. His gray facial hair grew down to the middle of his chest and ended in a little curl like a pigtail. Piv had told her he was one of the oldest Kith. But besides his beard and a few skin spots, his face bore no signs of advanced age.
At the moment, Pogonip was hunched over a broad workbench covered with an array of spotless tools, each one precisely lined up with its neighbors. It was very similar to the way Piv arranged his own work areas. Sam wondered if all the Kith suffered from a genetic predisposition for obsessive compulsive disorder.
Unlike all the other elves, Pogonip did not stop working as Sam approached. He was engrossed in grinding away at one of the tiny artificial sapphires used as bearings in the timepieces. He worked fast, but each stroke of his grindstone was exact and smooth. He looked up from his work, gave Sam a toothy smile, and said, “Hello, lass.”
“Uh...hello,” Sam said, somewhat surprised that Pogonip’s voice was gravelly. “I assume you remember me.”
“Of course. You’re the one that gives us work to do and toys to play with.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it,” Sam said. “Sorry I haven’t had a chance to chat with you until now. Things have been busy. I hope you’ve been happy here.”
“Happy as a bear in springtime,” Pogonip said. “Quite a fancy workshop you have here with the shiny machines and whatnot. A curious person could spend an age tinkering with these marvels.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay.”
“Indeed I am. Worth waking up for.” He yawned, opening his mouth wide and taking in a huge gulp of air.
“You could be asleep like the others,” Sam said.
“Oh, they’re young. Let them have their sleep. I was asleep for a very long time. Many, many years. I’ve had enough sleep.”
“Years?” Sam asked.
“Yes, lass. Piv found me in my den and woke me.”
“Den?” Sam asked. Then something Pogonip said a few moments ago set off an epiphany. “You were hibernating. Like a bear.”
Pogonip blinked at her. “Hiber whatsing?”
“Hibernating. Sleeping for a long time.”
“Ah, yes,” Pogonip said. “That’s it.”
“Do the Kith do that kind of thing often, or is it just something for the older ones like yourself?
“The Kith
take long sleeps whenever it feels right,” Pogonip said. “But sometimes some of us sleep too long. We all start out fresh and green like Piv, but if those lads out there sleep too long they’ll end up faded and gray like me.”
“Really?” Sam asked. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen any other older elves.”
“T here aren’t many longbeards like me anymore,” Pogonip said. “The ones that are still in the world have been sleeping so long they’ll probably never wake up. Things have changed too much, and lots of my brothers would rather live in dreams of the way things used to be.”
“But you’re not like those others,” Sam said. “You came here, after all. I don’t think you slept to escape from the world. You were just waiting for a time when the world wanted you back in it.”
Pogonip nodded. “Piv tells me you need a stone cut.”
“That’s right,” Sam said. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the tiny case that had just arrived that morning, accompanied by an armored truck and a pair of guards wearing bulletproof vests. She handed it to Pogonip, and when he opened it his gray eyebrows shot up.
“That’s a pretty rock, that is,” he said. The ruby that Kalagho Mining Corporation had sent was indeed impressive. It was about two inches long, an inch wide, and somewhat triangular. Even in its rough uncut state it caught the light and sparkled a brilliant red, accented by thin silvery strands embedded in the rock like trapped gossamer.
“It’s also a very expensive rock,” Sam said. “So please be careful.”
“Dear lass, I am always full of care. How do you want it cut?”
“Whatever you think is best. How long do you need?”
“Well I’d like to keep it forever! Never have I seen such a beautiful red stone. But if you want cutting, cutting is what I’ll do. Give me two days, and you’ll have your stone back.”
“Just two days? That’s shorter than I thought. You can take more time if you need it.”
Pogonip gazed into the ruby, and spoke to Sam without taking his attention from it. “Lass,” he said, “stones like this have a way of enchanting a Kith’s heart. If I were to spend much more time with it, you might never get it back.”
* * *
Several days passed and nothing particularly remarkable happened in Sam’s life until a cadre of very special guests paid a visit to Better Timepieces.
“I think they’ve just arrived,” Yusef said as he stared out of the tall windows in Sam’s office.
A pair of shiny black Lincoln Town Cars pulled up to the building’s front entrance. A quartet of dark men in darker suits exited the lead car with military precision. Two similar men exited the front of the second car, and one of them opened the left rear passenger door for their employer.
He stood half a foot taller than his companions. He was lean and young, and he moved with a graceful swagger. His suit was perfectly tailored, and he wore it well. As he surveyed the exterior of the MacPherson building, he smiled and revealed an immaculate set of white teeth.
“They look like a bunch of hitmen,” Yusef said.
Sam nodded. “Judging by how many people fear their company, I’d say that’s exactly what they are.”
A bubbly intern from the marketing department (one of Jessica’s protégés) greeted the troupe from Tanzania as they made their way up to the Better Timepieces office with much haste and little fanfare. The intern handed them off to Yusef, who led the team to Sam’s office.
“Miss Samantha Chablon,” Yusef said, “meet Akida Kalagho.”
“Thank you again for joining us on such short notice,” Sam said as she firmly shook Akida’s extended hand. “I worried that it might be difficult for you to travel all the way from Tanzania.”
“No need to worry,” Akida said in an accent that was a mix of London and faint Swahili. “As fortune would have it, I just happened to be at our New York sales office when you called. I’ll be returning to our headquarters next week.”
Sam’s eyes wandered over to the other tall, intimidating men in the room and returned her attention to Akida. “I wasn’t expecting so much security.”
“I assure you it is only a precaution,” Akida said. “There have been no attempts on my life, but I’d like to keep it that way.”
“That’s understandable,” Sam said. “I’d imagine that you’ve made a few enemies on your rapid rise to success.”
“I could say the same of you,” Akida said.
“And you’d be right,” Sam said. “But I’m still here, and so are you. That says a lot about how we handle our enemies.”
“It does,” Akida said. “But it does not say much about how we treat friends. More specifically, partners.”
“Yes,” Sam said. “Let’s talk about this further. Alone.”
“Certainly,” Akida said. He gave his entourage a reassuring nod, and they departed. Yusef followed and shut the door behind them.
“We bought a ruby from you,” Sam said as she sat in her chair.
“Yes,” Akida said as he eased into the chair across from her. “I’m curious to find out what you did with it.”
Sam unlocked a drawer in her desk and retrieved a metal box. She removed the top, and said, “This is what we did with it.”
Akida tried his best to appear unimpressed, but Sam saw his eyelids lift—an uncontrollable reaction that showed he liked what he saw. The box contained the brilliant red ruby that Yusef bought, but now it was cut in an elegant diamond shape. A shaft of sunlight beamed through a window and made the gem sparkle. The many facets reflected the light inside the ruby and highlighted the unique, silvery gossamer strands embedded in the jewel—the signature feature of Kalagho’s rubies.
“I’ve never seen one of my rubies look like this,” Akida said. “That’s...interesting.”
“I find you interesting as well,” Sam said. “We’ve researched everything about your Kalagho Mining Corporation, and you’ve made a lot of progress in a very short amount of time. I like that. It reminds me of what we’re doing here at Better, and I want partners that are just as ambitious as I am.”
Akida nodded and reluctantly took his eyes from the ruby. “You want a direct source for jewels and precious metals. No middle-men. I believe I can provide whatever you may need.”
“We need remarkable gemstones and all the palladium you can spare,” Sam said.
“I can provide you that,” Sam said. “I will even provide you these resources at a fifty percent discount, in exchange for a small concession.”
“Which is?”
“For as long as you use materials from my mines,” Akida said, “you’ll give credit to KMC in all of your print, television, and internet advertising.”
Sam leaned back in her chair. “You want us to give you free marketing.”
“Can you blame me?” Akida asked. “Your marketing team has proven exceptionally clever, and effective. I would like to, as you Americans say, piggy-back on that. I want the world to know that the best rubies come from Tanzania.”
Sam paused for a few seconds before she spoke again. “So all we have to do is throw you a mention in our marketing materials and you’ll cut your prices in half?”
“I believe there is much value in being associated with your brand,” Akida said. “That value will be worth the large sums of money I’ll lose initially.”
“That’s an intriguing proposal,” Sam said. “But we may be putting your rubies next to diamonds that aren’t from your company.”
“I suggest you don’t use diamonds at all,” Akida said.
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“Diamonds are boring. They are not even rare. It’s a business made up of make-believe and clever marketing to make people feel like they’re getting something special, when the truth is that diamonds are not hard to find, and today’s synthetic diamonds are virtually indistinguishable from nature’s diamonds. But no one can replicate my rubies, and they are not commonplace. Each one is a unique find.”
“Fair points,�
� Sam said. “As for your proposal...I’ll have to consult with my chief marketing officer.”
“Of course,” Akida said. “When can I expect an answer?”
“Give me a couple of days.”
“Wonderful. I’ve decided to spend a little more time in this area. I’ve never been to the Motor City before. I’m hoping to find something exciting here.”
“Just be careful where you go at night,” Sam said with a snicker.
Akida smiled. “Perhaps you’d like to show me around to ensure I don’t get into trouble?”
“I do still have business to take care of here,” Sam said.
“But you will leave the office this evening, correct? I have heard that Americans often work unseemly hours, but I hope that a lovely woman such as yourself appreciates the need for healthy work-life balance.”
Sam pondered his words for a moment before answering, “Will we have to go with your bodyguards?”
“I think I can persuade them to leave me unchaperoned for a few hours.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “Where are you staying?”
“The Townsend Hotel,” Akida said.
“Oh, you’re right in the neighborhood. That makes it easier then. Give me your card.”
Akida retrieved a silvery card case with a single ruby inset on the top, and gave Sam a crisp business card. “My personal mobile phone number is listed there. May I pick you up at eight?”
“No,” Sam said.
Akida frowned. Sam laughed.
“You’re a guest in my town,” Sam said. “I’ll pick you up.”
* * *
Later that evening, Sam kept her promise and arrived at the Townsend Hotel at exactly eight o’clock. Akida was already waiting out front and dressed smartly in a blazer and casual slacks. His bodyguards were nowhere to be seen.
Akida smiled when he saw her pull up to the hotel. He checked his watch and said, “Precisely on time.”
“A habit of mine,” Sam said. “Get in.”
Akida did so, and adjusted the passenger seat so that his long legs had room. “Where are we off to?”
“I thought I’d give you a tour of downtown Detroit,” Sam said. “But we have to take care of your problem first.”