Here, Bemish's escort — he, accordingly to a local custom, obtained himself three beefy flatheads — socked the peppiest journalist on his jaw and the newspapermen bolted.
On the return helicopter trip to Assalah, Born inquired why the journalist's had been punched in his mug.
"He is from White Sky," Bemish answered. "This is a newspaper owned by zealots who think Earthmen to be demons crawling out from underground. They say that if we flew from the sky, we would meet gods on the way. He was asking boorish questions."
"Ah, zealot," the satisfied banker drawled, "zealots aren't dangerous."
"It's not dangerous but it's annoying," Bemish agreed.
"What were they asking about taxes?"
Bemish paused deciding whether or not he should explain. But the whole thing had raised a stink and they had mentioned about it in the newspapers couple times.
"There was a bank," Bemish said, "that went bankrupt. The government nationalized it, restructured its loans and turned them into bonds."
"And what is the bonds' value?"
"It's seven-ten percent of their nominal value."
"And at what value were your bonds appraised?"
"They were appraised at hundred percent of their nominal value."
The banker grunted with astonishment, but he controlled himself and didn't say anything.
Bemish asked Born what Weian official he liked the most, and Mr. Gerald Born named Shavash without hesitation. And he added, "What do you think — would Mr. Shavash agree to resign from his Empire appointment and head the developing markets department in our bank?"
Bemish almost gaped.
"Why do you think," He asked cautiously, "that Shavash may want to retire?"
"Because of all this slander directed at him! I can tell you with total frankness that not a single tranche of our credit would reach its destination if it was not for Shavash! The local officials would have embezzled everything! This is the only man who is doing something to save the country's economy. And what does he get back? The best Empire economist languishes under a dimwitted minister and the officials fling disgusting slander at him being unable to endure one honest man in their midst. I think that the best solution for him would be to leave this planet. Do you disagree?"
"No, not really," Bemish said, "Shavash is an amazing man — you are right."
Bemish wanted to pass Born into Giles's hands, so that the latter dealt with the guest till the take off, but Giles vanished somewhere and even his cell was off — Bemish resolved to thrash him soundly.
Bemish personally walked his old acquaintance to the boarding ramp. The latter was pleasantly surprised having learned that the spaceport had an extraterritorial status and the spaceport's management collected taxes and had independent jurisdiction."
Bemish had barely returned to his office when a phone rang.
Bemish picked up the receiver.
"Hello, Terence," the fairest Empire economist told him. "What's the story with Golden Deer Company? I heard that you detained their freight."
"There is no story," Bemish said. "It's just that there is forty tons of electronics there and they paid tariffs for five tons only. Why don't they pay everything required and pick it up."
"Terence, be so kind. Their guy will drop by — stamp his papers and let him go." And Shavash put the receiver down not waiting for a reply.
Giles announced himself in half an hour. He shakily walked in the office. His face was smashed and his expensive suit was splattered in mud.
"Oh, my God, Giles what's happened to you?"
"Somebody attacked me."
"Who was it?"
"Who was it? It was some hoodlums. It was all the damn hoodlums of this planet who don't have anything better to do than to get hired at this construction!"
"Security is your problem, Giles. If your crappy service can't pacify two dozen crooks, how is it going to pacify two dozen dictators?
"We will pacify crooks," Giles exploded. "Security troops will be here in a week."
"What? Have you sent a request?"
"I will send it today."
"I forbid you."
"Why?"
"Because, at the moment it becomes public, everybody will start selling my securities! At first, Federation Special Forces will send their troops to devaluate the construction and then they will buy it dirt cheap, won't they?"
"Won't zealots and bandits devaluate it?
"Exchange market doesn't care about zealots! It doesn't know what they mean. It perfectly well understands what the Special Forces mean!"
Giles touched his torn cheekbone.
Bemish picked up the receiver and called Shavash.
"Shavash, my deputy was assaulted today. Who? Crooks! Send your police in and eradicate these hoods."
"Terence, only Federation laws are valid at the spaceport territory. You can call your troops in but not our police."
"Call this stupid immunity off!"
"You grumbled about corrupted officials yourself…"
"Your corrupted officials, at least, will not overload themselves with legalities bashing these hoods' teeth in."
"I am glad that you see some advantages of our officials."
"They have advantages only compared to your crooks."
On the other end, Shavash switched to another line and told his secretary to summon a car. In an hour, a narrow silver car drove Shavash to a decorated gate of a bawdy house, famous across the whole country. Having ignored the welcoming girls who leaped up at his arrival, Shavash walked upstairs.