Just as Captain White had promised, he contacted Kier right at midday. The youth was still lying on his bed, thoughtlessly staring at the screen. The image of White appeared from the depths of comm-net, as if a demon out of hell. But the ImpSec officer started from the wrong side of it, despite Kier’s expectations.
“Greetings, my lord. It was reported you didn’t like my gift.”
Kier decided to enjoy the comedy. “Why did you think so, Captain?”
“The cameras in the corridor showed that the girl was with you for no longer than ten minutes. And then, it seems that your henchman, Underman, used her.”
Kier summoned all his storytelling abilities.
“I really didn’t like her. When I decided to take her, she fought back. I had to ask Underman to hold her. That’s why, after the first time, I gave the girl to my bodyguard, so that he would tame her well.”
“I thought she was pretty gentle.” There was doubt in White’s voice. “However, taming wild horses is even more fun. If I were you, I would train her myself.”
“I’ve already told you I was ready to give the girl to you, Captain.” The young aristocrat decided not to cede to the ImpSec officer.
“Oh no, thanks, my lord. Let’s say, I have another specialization.” White beamed an unpleasant smile at Kier.
“And you do know that homosexual contacts are banned, per the emperor’s decree?” Kier couldn’t restrain himself from a pin-prick.
“Yes, a fine of ten thousand dariks or a prison sentence.” The captain smiled again. “But to his loyal servants, our emperor—may he rule forever!—allows a little more than to some, as one sorts cattle. Being a vor, you know that well. So what have you decided on the question we discussed yesterday?”
“I’d like to think some more,” began Kier, before a brief pause. “The question is very complicated for me and I’m afraid to make a mistake. Besides … after the girl, it was really impossible to think about anything else.”
“I see. So you want to stall for time!” White understood Kier’s intentions at once. “Personally, I would have given you another couple of days, but I have obligations. I’ll contact you later.”
The image of the boss of the local ImpSec branch disappeared.
At that same moment, the doorbell rang. The youth tensed, but after seeing Underman on the monitoring display, he let the henchman in.
Once inside, Kier turned off the comm and retold the short talk he had with White.
“For now, it is going as planned, just as your father foresaw,” Underman commented. “At present, they would probably want to meet you in person.”
“My brothers? What for?”
“The Barons Petr and Mark will try to convince you to accept their offer. Or they will try to sway you to their side. Do not concede by any means, but do not refuse at once! Demand some time to think it over. Meanwhile, I’ll try to get some evidence of their plot. That way, the count will be able to address the out-satrap directly.”
“I can hardly believe that …” Kier was full of pessimism. “Eventually, they will move from words to actions, and then we will both be in big trouble.”
“We have already discussed this, my lord. We don’t have another way out. By the way, do you remember the weapon that I gave you?”
“I have the pistol armed and under the pillow,” said Kier, shrugging his shoulders and revealing the gun barrel to Underman. “Yesterday, it was with me all day long. When it comes to action, it won’t help me.”
“Who knows, my lord?” the bodyguard said. He turned to the door, intending to leave, but Kier stopped him with a question.
“Sergeant, yesterday we watched the death match of two vor-officers. My brothers, or somebody else … could they use this way to eliminate me, lawfully?”
“Don’t you worry, my lord.” Underman yawned and sat down on the plastic chair standing in the corner of the room. “Empire law prohibits the summoning of counts and their official heirs to duel. If a conflict arises between two counts, it is solved by an out-satrap.”
“I didn’t know that.” The young aristocrat felt relieved. “So it turns out that outs allow ordinary vors to thin each other out a little, but the counts and their heirs are out of question, ‘cause it’d be a political affair then.”
“That’s right, my lord,” confirmed the bodyguard, pleased with the youth’s quick thinking.
“But are you sure?” Kier was worried again. “You are not a lawyer, and anyway, there must be some loopholes.”
“You can check my words on the comm-net, my lord.” Underman went silent for a second, and then added, “Just as you’ve said, I’m not a lawyer, but my father was, and a well-known one, back in New Roma. So I’m somewhat familiar with the Empire laws. If you have any questions on jurisprudence, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Kier nodded, and then asked, “And your father?”
“Dead. Long ago, together with my mother. Formally, it was a heart attack, though I’m sure they were killed. How can two people of middling age die simultaneously from a heart attack? Moreover, neither ever complained about their hearts. At that time, I served in the Special Corps in Southern Gomorrah. I’ve learned what happened afterward from my youngest sister.”
“Is this somehow connected with the Vorsmiths?”
“Most probably, no. Back then, I wasn’t the count’s henchman. In case you’re interested, I can tell you, my lord …”
Underman then told Kier how his father took the case of a powerful client (Underman didn’t know what was the case about or who the client was) not long before his death. As with all lawyers, his father was acting as an intermediary between various clients, and the judge, in the competitive financial and juridical process. He had learned how much the client was ready to pay for one or another judicial decision and told the judge. In addition, he was informing the client of the actions of the opposite party. Lawyers dealt with the money transfers for the court, knew the precise sums of fines for crimes, and could help the client minimize his expenses through the numerous and dodgy loopholes of the law. For all these operations, a successful lawyer earned good income and Underman’s family had lived sound and well.
The sergeant suspected that his father mentioned a smaller sum to the judge than his client was ready to pay. The judge made his decision and the lawyer got illegal, deferential payment from the opposite party. This was a rare occasion, but it happened. Most likely, the powerful client didn’t like such a development.
Of course, Underman didn’t know if this was true or false. He didn’t dare to dig too deep.
“I’m sorry,” Kier said sincerely, sympathizing with the bodyguard.
“That was long ago, my lord. But I’ve just decided that it would be good for you to know.” Underman yawned again and continued in another tone, “By the way, thanks for Olga. The first time, she was screaming so temptingly! Now, I will contact the brunette I bought yesterday and will have fun with both. If you’ve changed your mind, then join in. I’m willing to share the brunette. The four of us can have a great time together.”
The bodyguard winked at Kier, who shook his head in response. Underman shrugged his shoulders and silently went out.
To distract himself from the thoughts of sex, provoked by the last words of his bodyguard, Kier started reflecting on the legal system of the Empire.
It consisted of the emperor’s decrees, which had the power of the highest law, as well as multiple normative acts of a secondary character that were published by ministers, out-satraps, counts, and other bureaucrats. They were deliberately made unclear and often contradicted one other. Besides, all the normative acts officially existed only in the electronic form, which could be changed with ease.
And if the emperor’s decrees were, as a rule, left without noticeable alteration, the same couldn’t be said about the secondary acts. You could see one thing on the comm-net today, and the next day it was different. None of the printout, copies, and other artifacts had legal power and were mercilessly declared as fakes. With such juridical relativism, everything was settled depending on the social status and the administrative and financial resources of the parties.
A murder could be declared “necessary defense,” burglary could become “debt collecting,” and rape defanged as “coupling by mutual accord.” The judges and their subsidiary court investigators were appointed by the counts and could pronounce almost any decision. This setup made the judicial ‘puppets’ rich and influential people. Intermediary lawyers also got their piece of the pie, but at their professional risk. Underman’s story confirmed that once again.
Some really serious questions are solved by the out-satraps, ministers and counts, but not the lawyers and judges, Kier mused. In the hardest cases, the final word rests with the emperor, who is the Chief Justice of the Empire. I wonder how they choose new emperors. The out-lords never talk about that. They just say that the previous emperor “went to the gods” and the new one has come. It has never been stated that the emperors are some sort of a dynasty or even close relatives …
Kier’s treacherous thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the door alert sounding. Harry Karlsen showed on the display. The young lord allowed him to enter, and then cast an inquiring look at the private.
A bit confused, Harry appealed to Kier, “I need your help, sir.”
“I told you many times not to call me ‘sir’ when we’re alone,” Kier snapped.
“Sorry …” Harry appeared nervous. “The thing is that when Olga hit me yesterday, she broke my glasses. I don’t see a thing without them. Almost nothing. Strong myopia.” He fidgeted at bit, then added, “And I don’t have a spare pair.”
“And you need new glasses as soon as possible,” said Kier, deciphering Harry’s request. “I doubt you can order them here, but I’ve seen them in the Morosev’s boutique. I’m ready to help you with that.”
The young men left Kier’s apartment and went down to the local shop. Harry chose weak, but relatively-fitting glasses, which Kier paid for with ease.
To his own surprise, the young lord splurged and bought a game of mini-chess for nine hundred yellows. This purchase practically zeroed out Vorsmith-junior’s bank account, but he justly thought that he wouldn’t be allowed to die of starvation. Kier loved chess, although he was a weak player and usually lost to the computer program. The young vor could only win at the novice level, where the computer was programmed to make serious mistakes. Such a game wasn’t much fun.
Previously, Harry had let it slip that he played chess pretty well, and now his overlord remembered that comment. The chess figures were created of natural amber and were more of a decorative than practical character. The white pieces were of pure pale-yellow amber and the black pieces were of darker amber filled with trapped insects. There was also a small playing board of ancient varnished wood. Kier realized that the set he’d bought was worth much more than nine hundred.
The local ramrods don’t even know the true value of such things, the young aristocrat thought.
“Do you want to play them or is it just a beautiful souvenir?” Karlsen inquired, as they ascended back to Kier’s apartments.
Vorsmith-junior didn’t have time to reply, as he was cut off by a cold, commanding voice booming in the elevator.
“Attention and obedience! There was a breakdown on the WestStream pipeline under the Stabilnaya River. Water is breaching the pipeline! All unoccupied civil servants listed in the repair and construction battalion are to immediately report to the accident site! I repeat …”
The voice continued the call for pipeline repairs and Harry mumbled, “Those guys got the raw end of the stick. The repair and construction battalion is the worst place at the Civil Service. At least, here.”
“Why?” Kier asked. “In my opinion, the corporative brothel is much worse. And what about these so-called “personal contracts”? I don’t envy the guy bought by Captain White!”
Karlsen jerked with fright and hurriedly said, “You’d better not pronounce his name aloud, sir. Everything is tracked in here. Any allusion to his name would certainly attract attention; plus, there’s probably an automatic keywords search.”
Kier was surprised. “Are you that afraid of Captain White?”
Harry waved his hands desperately, and the young aristocrat shut up obediently.
After returning to the Vorsmith’s apartments, Harry relaxed and cheered up.
“Thank you, sir,” he began, but now it was Kier’s turn to clamor.
“Cut it out! You had better sit and tell me what’s so scary about this repair and construction battalion. If I understand you, serving there is even worse than serving White. And you are so afraid of White that you don’t even mention his name. By the way, what do you call him here, in this case? I mean, the civil servants.”
“Usually we don’t mention him. Sometimes we say he or the one, or You-Know-Who. In general, it’s not only the civil servants who are afraid of White, but also many people from Heartland Oil and Special Corps officers. But still, it’s better being under White than going to repair and construction! The servants from this battalion live on the base territory in separate barracks, their discipline is much stricter, compared to the others. But that’s not the worst part of it …”
Harry spilled his guts about new details of the Civil Service to Kier. It seemed more like a scary tale, but after the last days’ impressions, Kier didn’t doubt it was all true.
Harry said that the pipeline, WestStream, was built more than one hundred years earlier by the Heartland Oil Company. Since that time, it had considerably deteriorated and needed constant repairs. Due to the extreme temperatures, and the age of the metal pipe, cracks and leaks often occurred. When this happened, the oil flow had to be shut off and the leaks patched.
The civil servants in the repair and construction battalion performed these repairs in severe cold and wind, while standing waist-deep in mud created by the hot oil melting the ever-frost. Even in the depths of winter, this would happen, causing the giant pipes to practically drown in a hot oil-created swamp. In addition, most of the old pipe supports had crumbled. Therefore, the civil servants had to be ordered to dig out the pipeline with shovels and other makeshift means. Frequently, the molten oil-soaked dirt sucked people in and they would find their grave under the pipeline.
“They don’t usually dig out the bodies,” Harry said. “Too much meddling. Unless, of course, they discover the poor fellow dead in the dirt while digging out the pipeline itself. Then, the corpse is sent to the relatives. Otherwise, it’s just ‘missing.’” He paused a moment, and then continued. “There are also cases where water gets into the pipeline—just as today. The most dangerous sector of the pipe is situated under the river bed. They must shut off the oil flow, drain the water, and then launch the repairers into the pipe. Last time, around a month ago, one of the civil servants drowned. There was a large breach of river water into the pipe. The pumps came up short and the repairer drowned right inside the pipe. The ImpSec qualified it as an accident.”
“I knew nothing about this.” Kier felt uneasy. “So you served under Passat, under a personal contract. How come you know so much about the pipeline?”
“It was my father, way back, who used to tell me a lot about the Heartland Oil activity. He was an economics teacher at the university in New Roma. In general, Heartland Oil is the largest company of our satrapy, and the oil is the main economic branch of Northern Heartland. During the year I’ve spent here, I’ve seen and heard a lot. To be honest, they don’t even conceal such things … what for?” Harry paused and looked at Kier. “Strange that you, the heir of the Vorsmiths, don’t know anything of the local business. This deposit and pipe are within your territory. The Heartland Oil payments are the basis of the county’s budget and the personal wealth of many generations of the Vorsmiths.”
Kier felt his face go red. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he’d never been interested in this side of life. Of course, he had some understanding of financial matters. He knew that oil was a valuable and expensive resource, and that his family had a large profit from this business. But all the details concerning the location of the pipelines, or who maintained them or how, never bothered the young aristocrat.
Harry noticed Kier was confused and conceded, “Earlier, my interest toward all this biz was purely theoretical. Afterwards, I had to get a closer look at the realities. I was lucky to get to Passat, because if I had been with repair and construction I wouldn’t have lasted even a month. But there was no worry; only physically strong men are selected to go there. Those like me don’t live up to even minimal costs.”
“But why doesn’t Heartland Oil use some special equipment and professional workers for the maintenance?” Kier asked. “Besides, you can build a new pipe out of durable materials with reliable supports. I’m sure there are available technologies. The price for the oil is so high, the project will cover all the expenses!”
“I don’t know; perhaps using the civil servants is more profitable. The living expenses aren’t much and, in large part, are shouldered by the relatives. They send the food and warm clothes. This is encouraged in every way. Heartland Oil optimizes the expenses and the money from the human trade goes to the ImpSec budget.” Karlsen went silent, and then added, “Or maybe they really do believe that labor makes happy.”