The One-Eyed Man

by Modesitt,, L. E. Jr.

  The coincidence of RDAEX buying the sealed Pentura research facility didn’t exactly seem coincidental, but sometimes coincidences happened, even with multis. And … sometimes they didn’t.

  By the time I finally dropped off to sleep, it was close to midnight local, but that was only five in the evening in Passova. The problem was that I didn’t want to tackle RDAEX and Haans Ermitag on six hours’ sleep, seven at the most.

  27

  My link dragged me out of an uneasy sleep on threeday morning, and I struggled to the dining room, ate sluggishly, then returned to my quarters and finished readying myself for the day. Then I met Haans Ermitag at eight, outside the guest quarters, my equipment case in hand.

  The entire day was long, intensive, and exhausting. I used almost every measuring device in my equipment case and visited at least the outside of every laboratory and local ancillary production facility within the RDAEX installation. I didn’t even try to compare readings with those in the Survey Service records, but I did enter all my findings in the link, and used the planetary link to copy them to my console at the Passova survey. As Haans had predicted the night before, everything that I could see or measure seemed to fit well within Survey regulations and parameters, although I wanted to check a few things once I returned to Passova.

  The drilling project—although Haans insisted it was a high-pressure biological investigation experiment—was located two kays to the north of the main RDAEX installation, accessible through a tunnel. The tunnel was, interestingly enough, as old as the original installation, although Haans insisted he had no idea for what purpose Pentura had used the isolated laboratory. My measurements showed nothing out of line in terms of ambient conditions or airborne effluents. There were no other discharges, since all liquids were fully recycled and reused.

  I hadn’t expected anything else from my day-long investigation, but I had thought that I might get some clues as to whether RDAEX was either skirting the rules or, as in the case of upper-level atmospheric sampling, operating totally outside the scope of existing statutes and regulations. I didn’t, and I was more than a little worn-out, with a slight headache, when I walked into the guest quarters and made my way through the reception area to my rooms. I knew I’d have to hurry, as well, since it was already 1830, and the dining area closed at 1900.

  With a sigh, I palmed the door and stepped inside.

  “Greetings,” came a low voice from the study.

  I managed not to gape. Kali Artema stood there. She wasn’t even wearing a security singlesuit, but black trousers, a shimmering pale gray blouse or shirt, and a short black jacket. I suspected there was still a stunner under the jacket, and possibly a few other items of that nature. I wouldn’t have called her beautiful, but more a handsome woman, striking enough that she took my breath away momentarily.

  “Greetings,” I returned. “I see security has its advantages.”

  “How else was I going to arrange for you to take me to dinner? A professional dinner, Doctor.”

  “I wouldn’t dare any other kind with you, Director.”

  “Kali … for the evening, please.”

  “I presume I asked on the shuttle?”

  She smiled. “Where else?”

  “Where would you suggest?”

  “I made reservations in your name at Stellara.”

  “Do we need transport?”

  “No. There is one better restaurant in Rikova, but Stellara is … more suitable, and far closer.”

  “Rikova?”

  “That’s the town name. Most people don’t call it that, but the RDAEX facility is technically within the boundary of the town of Rikova. The town proper is west of here.”

  I managed to nod, although I never would have known—just another aspect of taking an assignment where what was obvious to a local was totally obscure to an outsider. “One more suited to a guest?”

  She nodded. “I’ll wait while you change and clean up.”

  Change? I didn’t question that, although I had my doubts as to what I’d be changing into, since I’d brought only two singlesuits.

  I needn’t have worried. The suit I’d worn on twoday had been cleaned in my absence. Who knew what else had been done to it? So I washed and changed.

  “I like the gray with the black trim,” said Kali as I returned to the small study. “It makes you look distinguished.”

  “It also complements what you’re wearing.”

  “I thought it might.”

  “Thought?” I raised my eyebrows.

  She only replied with a knowing smile.

  “Why me?” I asked, walking around the all too functional settee.

  “Why not? You’re intelligent, single, and well groomed. You keep yourself in shape, and don’t flaunt it. Just as important, I’ve made a point of not fraternizing with coworkers.”

  There was something about the way she phrased that, but what it was I couldn’t put a finger on. “And you can make a quiet point by having dinner with me.”

  “That had crossed my mind. Shall we go?”

  I wasn’t about to disagree, and besides, she was clearly intelligent and attractive, and there was always the chance I might learn something … although no matter how careful I was, she’d likely learn more. Once we were out of my quarters, I offered my arm, and she took it, gracefully but lightly, in a way that signified propriety but neither dominance nor submission.

  “You will have to point the way, so to speak.”

  “To the left at the main entrance, then three blocks to the main down ramp, and turn right at the first level down. It’s two blocks west from there.”

  There was no one in the main reception area or near the entrance, although two tunnelcars glided past us just as we entered the larger tunnel toward the ramp.

  “How long have you been with RDAEX?”

  “Three standard years.”

  “How are you finding Stittara?”

  “As opposed to what? Teppera? Bachman? RDAEX or Rikova?” Her words were mild, not challenging.

  “How about all of them?”

  “Bachman I don’t know. You’ll have to enlighten me on that. Teppera is far more … established in its ways than many places.” She paused. “I’d have to say that Stittara is far more set in its ways than I would have thought.”

  “Often frontier worlds or those with small populations are,” I suggested. “Especially if the conditions are challenging.”

  “Unless those set ways are contrary to survival,” she pointed out.

  “That’s true, but then, you have a world that no longer has a viable population … or none at all. That’s happened more than once in history, even on Old Earth.”

  Before long, we arrived at Stellara. The entrance consisted of two pewter doors set in a flat wall of nonreflecting black tiles edged in pale green. I opened the right door and held it for Kali. She didn’t complain. A hostess in a long pewter skirt and a black overblouse looked to me.

  “Paulo Verano. I believe we have reservations.”

  “Yes, sir. This way.”

  I took in Stellara as quickly and thoroughly as I could. The overhead was a dark and starry pattern that shifted, if slowly enough that it took a moment to determine that it did. From the relative size and position of the Arm, I suspected that the projection was what would have been visible overhead, were not Stittara’s atmosphere so translucently impermeable. The tables and chairs were templated to resemble ebony, and every table was set far enough apart that if one talked quietly casual eavesdropping would have been difficult. The table linens looked to be off-white, tinged with violet.

  At least one and possibly two men took long looks at us as the hostess guided us to a corner table. That might have been because Kali was more stylishly dressed than most of the women, or it might have been for other reasons. Once we were seated and before the server arrived, I said, “You definitely made an impression.”

  “So did you.”

  “I have my doubts about that …
unless it’s because they know you professionally.”

  “There might be something to that.” She smiled, an expression that was surprisingly demure.

  “They’re wary of you.”

  “Aren’t you?” she asked lightly, the corners of her mouth turning up.

  “Absolutely.” I managed a hint of humor in that single word. “Any man with sense would be. You’re extraordinarily competent, as well as attractive. That’s a dangerous combination.”

  “Flattery yet?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m the one who’s been flattered.” I looked at the menu. The fact that it was on actual paper suggested that the fare would command serious duhlars. Browsing just the appetizers confirmed that. “What would you recommend?”

  “That always depends on individual taste. I’ve preferred their fowl dishes, especially the ones with locally grown mushrooms and natural cheeses.”

  “Fowl and fungi … that sounds like some multis.”

  “I fear that is an old cliché, Paulo. Most multis are antiseptically clean.”

  “Ah … so antiseptic that nothing vital long survives there?”

  The server, a tall man with a complexion so dark that he and his black jacket and trousers almost faded into the dim light, appeared at the side of the table. “Something to drink, lady, ser?”

  “I’ll have the Windling,” said Kali.

  “Zantos, please.”

  The server vanished as quietly as he had appeared.

  “You might say that,” replied Kali, “but let’s not talk of business right now.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “Politics might be nice. In the general sense … on Bachman. I’ve never quite understood how a system with such a great income disparity among the people has lasted so long.”

  I laughed softly, then stopped as the server reappeared with our drinks, then asked, “Are you ready to order?”

  “The fowl picattina,” said Kali, “with the heather bisque first.”

  The server nodded and turned to me.

  “I’ll try the fowl marsalana,” I said.

  “An excellent choice, sir, especially tonight.”

  “I’ll also try the bisque.”

  The server nodded and slipped away.

  “Politics on Bachman?” Kali prompted.

  “First,” I said, lifting the beaker, crystal tinged purple, “to you with thanks.” I decided not to call it her invitation, since nowhere in public was truly private.

  “Thank you.”

  We both sipped, and I cleared my throat. “From what I’ve seen, the income disparity on Bachman is less of a disparity than it seems, especially if you look at it over time. Very few people or families remain in the top five percent for more than a decade or two.”

  “How is that when Bachman and the Unity don’t have significant inheritance taxes?”

  “You might call it predatory capitalism. Earned income is taxed moderately, but all physical property and everything of monetary value that is not money or not clearly defined as a publicly traded security that is held by any individual, except that received through inheritance, is subject to capital gains taxation. All other compensation is defined as earned income. The shorter the time period one holds any asset subject to capital gains, whether property or securities, the higher the tax rate. On securities held for less than a standard week, for example, the capital gains taxation is fifty percent, and no deduction for capital losses is allowed. Dividends and interest are considered earned income. Houses, conapts, or other owned quarters used as principal residences have the lowest capital gains. Properties held as rental units have higher rates, and the income generated is considered earned income.”

  “Doesn’t that make the economy sluggish?”

  “It slows things down a bit, but that’s the idea. Too much money and too many assets moving too quickly have always been the fundamental cause of financial and economic bubbles and disasters. The Unity doesn’t forbid quick turnovers in assets; it just recognizes that there’s a high cost to them and taxes accordingly. The tax structure means that people who speculate unwisely tend to lose their assets rather quickly. Tax fraud, as is any kind of fraud, is penalized rather stiffly.” I shrugged. “It’s far from perfect, but it seems to work. That could be because the definitions of assets and income are set in permacrete, and creative accounting can’t change them.”

  “I hadn’t thought that there was much to admire in Bachman.”

  “There isn’t,” I replied. “Except that the finance and tax laws allow a new group of talented predators to rise every generation and to devour the previous generation, so to speak. That way we have competent predators that have to provide goods, services, or financial transactions that contribute to the Unity’s coffers, because the incompetent ones can’t compete. I’ve seen families economically destroyed in days because of a cascade of bad decisions. So we have very few generationally institutionalized wealthy families, and that gives the impression that anyone can get to the top. And anyone can—if they’re brilliant, well educated, and obey the laws while behaving in ways that are legal but morally corrupt.” I was, of necessity, simplifying, but not overly so.

  She shook her head. “We have our problems, but I think I’d keep them if the alternative was what you describe.”

  At that moment the server arrived with the heather bisque. I wasn’t sure what to expect from a cream soup with that title, but since Kali had ordered it, I thought it couldn’t be too bad … and it wasn’t … almost like a cream of mushroom with an overtone of that heathery taste I could just barely taste in the lager.

  I took several spoonfuls before asking, “What do you see in the politics of the Stittaran Planetary Council?”

  “If you can believe what shows on the linknews, they worry continually about the costs the outies place on the Council and the people.”

  “The Survey people talk about enforcement problems with the outies.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s all surreptitious, though. If the Council or the Survey finds an area where timber has been illegally cut or the land cultivated, it’s almost impossible to discover who’s truly responsible.”

  “So much area, so few people, and so few resources?”

  Kali nodded.

  “Tell me about Rikova, the part that’s not RDAEX.”

  Over the rest of the bisque and the beginning of our entrees, she did. In the end, what it boiled down to was that Rikova, named after some ancient engineer, was essentially a multi town and a miniature of Passova.

  “How do you find working for RDAEX?” I finally asked.

  “You’ve been waiting all evening to ask that.”

  “No … just half the evening.” I grinned.

  “It’s a job. I’ve trained for it, and I do it well. I’d prefer to do the same thing closer to home, but that’s not possible.”

  I understood the “not possible” part, if in a different way. “What about family?”

  “I didn’t have much. Our families are small. My older sister left when I was still in school.”

  “Out-system?”

  Kali shook her head. “Just halfway around the planet. She didn’t think the way my parents did. There wasn’t much else that appealed to me. So I went into security … and here I am.”

  “I don’t think it was anywhere close to that simple. It never is.”

  She leaned forward across the table toward me and said in a low voice, “Were you this charming when your wife decided to leave you?”

  Her question left me without an answer for a moment, because it confirmed that someone had made some inquiries. Kali just waited, although I thought there might have been a hint of mischief in her eyes. Finally, I replied, “I doubt it. Part of that was likely me. Part of it was likely that I was seldom given the opportunity to be charming.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “At times like this, I’d agree.” I paused. “Would you like anything more? Dessert, perhaps?”r />
  She shook her head. “I’ve eaten far more than I should, and I’ll have to up my workouts for a week to pay for it.”

  “No artificial aids?”

  “Genetically, they don’t work the same for us.”

  “Everyone on Teppera?”

  “Most of us, except more recent immigrants. Over time, it seems, every planet changes its people, in one way or another.”

  Was that why Bachman was so predatory? Certainly, the stories of the early colonization suggested it had been touch and go with the reptilian cat-lizards for close to a century, and that didn’t take into account the interstellar border disputes with the Cloud Combine … disputes that still smoldered. “You’re probably right about that. How do you think it’s changed people here?”

  “I couldn’t describe it, but I can look and tell who’s from families that have been here for generations.”

  “I’ve had that feeling.”

  “There’s another thing … you might have noticed.”

  “Some of the women … you mean.” I didn’t want to say more. It would have sounded … well … far too presumptive.

  Kali laughed, softly and not unkindly. “You are sweet. Yes. Out-system men attract and fascinate them. Or good-looking ones do. I don’t know why, but I’ve seen it. There are two women over there who must have looked at you a dozen times.”

  I took a last sip of the Zantos. “I’ve been occupied.”

  “I do appreciate it, Paulo.”

  “So do I.” I paused. “Shall we go?”

  “We should. I’ll be up early tomorrow.”

  “I won’t … well … not too early. The shuttle doesn’t leave until eleven-thirty. I might walk around in the morning.”

  After using my link to pay for the meal, I stood, then watched as she rose, with an ease more athletic than graceful, although it was both. We walked back through Stellara, where every table was still taken, and out into the main tunnel.

  Once we were away from the entrance to the restaurant, I turned to Kali. “That was a most enjoyable dinner.”

  “It was,” Kali replied, and she sounded as though she meant it.