"That's good news," said Aino, with a tender smile.
Starlitz turned to Eero. "Is that enough bread to get you and your friends set up in the Alands with the networked Suns?"
Eero blinked limpidly. "The workstations have all arrived safely. No more problems in America with computer export restrictions. We could ship American computers straight to Russia if we liked."
"That's swell. Any problem getting proper crypto?"
Eero picked at a purple wisp of hair with his free hand. "The Dutch have been most understanding."
"Any problem leasing the bank building in the Alands, then?"
"We bought the building. With money to spare. It was a cannery, but the Baltic has been driftnetted, so... . "Eero shrugged his bony shoulders. "It has a little Turkish restaurant next door. So the programmers have plenty of pilaf and shashlik. Finn programmers ... we like our pilaf."
"Pilaf!" Raf enthused, all jolliness. "I haven't had a decent pilaf since Beirut."
Starlitz narrowed his eyes. "How about your personnel? Any problems there?"
Eero nodded. "We wish we had more people on the start-up, of course. Technical start-ups always want more people. Still, we have enough Finnish hackers to boot and run your banking system. We are mostly very young people, but if those Russian maths professors can log in from Leningrad -sorry, Petersburg--then we should have no big problems. The Russian maths people, they were all unemployed unfortunately for them. But they are very good programmers, very solid skills. The only problem with our many young hackers from Finland... . " Eero absently switched the grenade from hand to hand. "Well, we are so very excited about the first true Internet money-laundry. We tried very hard not to talk, not to tell anyone what we are doing, but ... well, we're so proud of the work."
"Tell your mouse-jockeys to sit on the news a while longer," Starlitz said.
"Really, it's too late," Eero told him meekly.
Starlitz frowned. "Well, how many goddamn people have you Finn cowboys let in on this thing, for Christ's sake?"
"How many people read the alt newsgroups?" Eero said. "I don't have those figures, but there's alt.hack, alt.2600, alr.smash.the.state, alt.fan.blacknet... . Many."
Starlitz ran his hand over his head. "Right," he said. Like most Internet disasters, the situation was a fait accompli. "Okay, that development has torn it big-time. Aino, you did right to bring this guy here right away. The hell with proper operational protocol. We gotta get that bank up and running as soon as possible."
"There's nothing wrong with publicity," Raf said. "We need publicity to attract business."
"There'll be business all right," Starlitz said. "The Russian mob is already running the biggest money-laundry since the Second World War. The arms and narco crowd worldwide are banging down the doors. Black electronic cash is a vital component of the emergent global system. The point is -- we got a very narrow window of opportunity here. If our little crowd is gonna get anything out of this set-up, we have gotta be there with a functional online money-laundry just when the system really needs one. And just before everybody else realizes that."
"Then publicity is vital," Raf insisted. "Publicity is our oxygen! With a major development like this one, you must seize and create your own headlines. It's like Leila Khaled always says: 'The world has to hear our voice.'"
Aino blinked. "Is Leila Khaled still alive?"
"Leila lives!" Raf said. "Wonderful woman, Leila Khaled. She does social work in Damascus with the orphans of the Intifada. Soon she will be in the new Palestinian government."
"Leila Khaled," said Aino thoughtfully. "I envy her historical experience so much. There's something so direct and healthy and physical about hijacking planes."
Eero couldn't seem to find a place inside his clothing for the grenade. Finally he placed it daintily on the kitchen counter and regarded it with morose respect.
"Any other questions?" Raf asked Starlitz.
"Yeah, plenty," Starlitz said. "The Organizatsiya's got their pet Russian math professors working the technical problems. I figure the Russians can hack the math -- Russians do great at that. But black-market online money laundering is a commercial customer service operation. Customer service is definitely not a Russian specialty."
"So?"
"So we can't hang around waiting for clearance from Moscow Mafia muckety-mucks. If this scheme is gonna work, we gotta slam it together and get it online pronto. We need quick results."
"Then you have the right man," said Raf briskly. "I always specialize in quick results." He shook Eero's hand. "You've been very helpful, Eero. It was pleasant to meet you. Enjoy your stay in the islands. We look forward to further constructive contacts. Viva la revolucion digitale! Goodbye and good luck."
"You don't have the big money for us yet?" Eero said.
"Real soon now," Starlitz said.
"Could I have some cab fare please?"
Starlitz gave him a 100-mark Jean Sibelius banknote. "Hei hei," Eero said, with a melancholy smile. He tucked the note into his cowboy shirt pocket and left.
Starlitz saw the hacker to the door, and checked the street as the cadaverous Finn ambled off. He was unsurprised to see Khoklov's two bodyguards lurking clumsily in a white Hertz rental car, parked up the street. Presumably they were relaying signals from the plethora of covert listening devices that the Russians had installed in Raf's safe-house.
Eero drifted past the Russian mobsters in a daze of hacker self-absorption. Starlitz found the kid an interesting specimen. In Japan there were plenty of major Goth kids, but the vampire people-in-black contingent had never really crossbred with Japan's hacker population. Here in Finland, though, there were somber and lugubrious hairsprayed Cure fans pretty much across the social spectrum: car repair guys, hotel staff, pizza delivery, government clerks, the works.
When Starlitz returned, Raf was hunting in the kitchen for coffee. "Aino, let's review the political situation."
Aino perched obediently on a birchwood kitchen stool. "The Aland Islands are a chain in the Gulf of Bothnia between Finland and Sweden. They include Aland, Foglo, Kokar, Sottunga, Kumlinge, and Brando."
"Yeah, right, okay," Starlitz grunted.
"The largest city is Mariehamm with ten thousand inhabitants." She paused. "That's where the autonomous digital bank will be established."
"We're doing great so far."
"There are twenty-five thousand Aland citizens, mostly farmers and fishery people, but thirty percent are engaged in the tourist industry. They run small-scale casinos and duty-free shops. The Alands are a popular day-tripping destination from continental Europe."
Starlitz nodded. He'd seen the shortlist of potential candidates for a Russian offshore banking set-up. The Alands offered the tastiest possibilities.
Aino sat up straighter. "The inhabitants are Swedish-speaking ethnics. In 1920, against their will and against a popular plebiscite, they were ceded to Finland as part of a negotiated settlement by the now-extinct League of Nations. In truth these oppressed people are neither Swedes nor Finns. They are Alanders."