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"I wouldn't say that you have a large state debt," Trevis mentioned, "You just have a very small GDP."

"That's what I have in mind," Shavash nodded, "when I suggest restructuring the debt."

Trevis bounced in his chair about to protest against this idea but Shavash's next words caused his eyes to pop out.

"I think that it would be possible to create a private company that will be responsible for paying interest on certain state debt tranches and this company will obtain Chakhar."

"What do you mean, Chakhar?" Trevis was astonished.

"I mean Chakhar or any other province where this company would be able to collect taxes, make laws and build factories. If a province frightens you, you can limit yourself with some mining deposits."

A long silence ruled the table.

"Shavash, aren't you afraid that someday they will arrest you for treason?" Trevis finally inquired.

The small official shrugged his shoulders.

"Why? It's just a way to decrease budget expenses. If a company doesn't pay the state debt out, it will, of course, loose the license. I've already talked to Dachanak and Ibinna and they are ready to be the company's co-founders. Mr. Bemish will fit perfectly there and as for you," here Shavash smiled charmingly at the banker, "I would like you, Ronald, to handle the negotiations with the bonds' owners."

Ronald Trevis leaned forward — his eyes reflected the lights from the candles burning on the table and the green illumination coming from the counter surveillance device. "He will never stop," a thought passed Bemish's mind, "He will handle the most fantastic deals for Shavash because Shavash can offer him what nobody has ever done in the Galaxy yet. He will be a consultant if Shavash asks him to privatize the ministry of finance."

Three days later, Bemish dropped by Assalah, for a couple of hours — he was accompanying a Galactic Bank committee.

The committee was shown a new section of finished launching pads, numbers seven to seventeen, and was escorted down the unfinished but already working spaceport building with twelve underground service floors and a fifteen story tower that housed Bemish's office on its very top.

Bemish entered his office with the bank vice president and contemplated, smiling slightly, his table covered with a barely perceptible layer of dust.

After the committee had left, Giles walked into the office.

"How is Kissur's castle?" the spy inquired.

Bemish mumbled something vague.

"By the way," Giles said, "satellites observed a space boat explosion in this area. It was something like a Colombine or a Trial with a boosted up engine — they use them to traffic drugs. By any chance, have you heard about it?"

"I witnessed it," Bemish said. "Kissur blew up the boat. Before that, he torched ten million worth of drugs and killed sixteen men. Afterwards he almost cut his own brother's head off. Ashidan was involved in the business."

"Did you memorize the space boat's license plate number?"

"It was D-3756A Orinoko, if the plate wasn't a fake."

Giles paused.

"Do you think that Kissur took you with him on purpose? Did he know that we suspected him in drug trafficking and that they had refused his application to the military academy exactly because of this?"

"Yes. Only, Kissur is a proud man and he will die before he says it out loud."

Giles was biting his lips.

"Where is Ashidan now?" he asked finally.

"Ashidan stayed in the castle. More precisely, he stayed in the castle's cellar." Bemish specified.

He paused and added,

"You said that you had proof of Kissur's connection to drug dealers. Where did you get this proof?"

"Make a guess."

"Shavash?"

Giles nodded and spoke,

"But he could just be mistaken."

Bemish blew up and banged his fist on the table,

"There is no way this bastard could be mistaken!" he screamed, "You can fool the Earthmen from a sky far away and tell them that Kissur traffics in drugs! You can't fool Shavash! He has better spies that all the local gangsters combined! He knew for sure that Kissur had nothing to do with it! But he also knew that Kissur, if cornered, would sooner or later break his head!"

"But Shavash is Kissur's friend…"

"Friend? The only thing he wants is to get into Idari's bed! If Kissur keels over, before a year goes by, Idari will have a choice — either to go bumming or to marry Shavash!"

Giles looked at Bemish and said suddenly,

"I think that Mrs. Idari will also have the third alternative — to marry the Assalah spaceport director. Not that a barbarian from the stars could really allure her…"

THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER

Where Terence Bemish's assistant goes to the sectants' meeting in Imissa while Kissur the White Falcon looks around the Galaxy for abandoned warheads

Two days later, Ashinik returned to the spaceport and he didn't drop a word about the Inissa meeting. It could not be ruled out that the zealots had made certain decisions and that these decisions could include an order for Ashinik to plant a bomb for Bemish or to throw it down a launching chute. But Bemish didn't have time to think about it.

Three days later, Bemish wandered into his office for half an hour to dictate a whole pile of documents, Ashinik interrupted him calling from somewhere in the port.

"Mr. Bemish, could you find an hour for me? There is a man here who would like to meet you. "

"What man?" Bemish asked.

"It's an… old man."

Bemish was quite impressed. He cleaned up his office and changed his jacket, just in case; he hung his regular one in the closet and picked out a light grey jacket that had one very useful feature — it could resist a laser burst at a three meter distance.

Ashinik led into the office an eighty-year-old man in peasant clothing, with white and bushy eyebrows, straight back and a square cap on a seemingly bald head. The old man looked at the Earthman with scary bulging eyes.

"You," the old man said, "are the boss of this place. And who am I?"

"You are probably," Bemish said, "the boss of the people who don't like this place."

"We don't have bosses," the old man declared, "We have students and teachers."

Bemish had nothing to reply, so he asked, "Would you like some tea?" Strangely, the old man agreed. Bemish ordered it and soon Inis entered the office carrying a tray with a teapot, cups, and several baskets filled with sweet cookies.

The old man disapprovingly stared at Inis' skirt. It was exactly one meter shorter than what he would consider decent. Even Bemish, in the back of his mind, disapproved of Inis strolling in this skirt anywhere outside of his bedroom. But what could he do? Inis enjoyed very few things besides skirts and earrings and Bemish felt sorry for her and never contradicted her about her skirts.

The main demon and the arch foe of the demons silently drank tea for a while.

"How are you going to scamper from here to the sky?" the White Elder asked. "I walked around your construction and I saw holes going down but I haven't seen any ladders going to the sky."

"We don't use ladders," Bemish explained patiently, "to go to the sky. We use space ships. Before starting, these ships stay in underground chutes, like pigeons resting in a pigeon house between flights."

The White Elder looked at him with interest and Bemish started explaining where to and why ships flew. He tried very hard. He even got to the concept of an escape velocity when the old man interrupted him and asked, "Ok, I believe that you fly to the sky and not underground. But why wouldn't you still build a ladder so that people don't get confused?"