Bemish didn't interrupt the man yet. He had realized a while ago that sooner or later the bandits would visit him but he hadn't suspected that they would choose such an original way. And this knave is also reminding in a subtle way — I have no problem knifing a boy down or you, boss…
"That was not a good idea," Bemish grinned, "because they will cut your head off now."
"Our authorities?" the bandit laughed out, "Boss, it's not my first murder, and my head is still with me. Do you think you will find witnesses against me?"
That was true. The witnesses were available when the bandit had to meet Bemish. Concerning his head though…
"What did you want to offer me in person?"
"Let's get things in order."
"What order?"
"What's all this mess around? They pick up stuff, swear — you know what's going on — steal materials, drink people away. Say, yesterday, a gang came in and started to play, six people sold themselves into slavery. So they are slaves and what happens next? They work and their owner rubs his belly and gets paid. We, on the other hand, would tidy things up."
"And what do you want in return?"
"Appoint me the landing field security manager."
"Do you want to traffic drugs?"
"Why should I traffic drugs, people make fortunes just on cigarettes. Say, you boss, made a company with Shavash and everybody says that the company hauls everything it wants and doesn't pay any tariffs."
"Is that it?"
"Pay us ten million dinars."
"Why should I pay you exactly ten million dinars?"
"You carried away two hundred million worth of Adera treasure and this treasure belongs to the people. The brothers think that if you return people one twentieth part it would be fair.
Bemish froze.
"The Adera treasure," Bemish said, "doesn't exist. There is neither gold nor silver in Chakhar, where could the treasure come from two thousand years ago?"
"Don't bullshit me, boss," the bandit said, "and don't act like a little white lamb. You hang around with Shavash, he stole half the country and we only pick up the crumbs…"
"I won't collaborate with you."
"Aha, you can do it with Shavash but you can't do it with us."
"There is a certain intelligence gap," Bemish said, "that makes our collaboration impossible. Shavash can pocket several million after a financial trick but he will not believe that a well with emerald walls exists in a God-forsaken hole."
And he barked into the intercom.
"Escort the prisoner!"
In a moment, the security department guys were dragging the thief out of the chair.
"Remember," he turned around at the door, "you stole more than your underling, boss, but it would be just as easy to knife you."
"Move it," a beefy guy, barbarian Alom, said and jabbed the thief in his ribs.
Bemish turned the air conditioner on and opened the window wide to clear the office of the thief's smell.
The night air was stuffy and soaked by the dust raised by the dozens of excavators and the hundreds of trucks. Far away a compressor station rumbled and the stars, large and jagged like the shards from a bottle that the gods smashed at the stone firmament, were cooling off above him.
Bemish was dismayed. Life was a disgusting and useless thing. He was building a military spaceport on a crazy planet with corrupted officials and an illiterate population and, as if it was not enough already, mafia coming to him and offering to transfer cars and cigarettes via the functioning spaceport's sectors. At the same time, it was totally clear to Bemish that the thief acted on Shavash's hints and all his castigations against the vice-minister were probably staged by this same small official. Idari is right this man will not stop pestering him till he starts exporting drugs via the spaceport…
The door squeaked.
Bemish span around and darted to the table where a gun was stored in a drawer. Needless to say, the thief's warning made a strong impression on him.
The gun, however, would not be needed. On the doorstep, Kissur stood in fancy velvet pants and a multihued shirt embroidered with kissing ducks.
"Oh, my God! What brought you here?"
"Ah," Kissur said, "I spent too much time at home. I thought, "I haven't inhaled that gasoline smell at Bemish's for a while." But I should get used to it. Soon, my whole country will stink like your spaceport."
Bemish was silent.
"Why are you so sad?"
"A thief today told me straight that if I didn't collaborate with mafia, I would regret it. Do you know what he asked as a proof of our friendship? He asked me for the Adera treasure."
"Hm," Kissur said, "Maybe you should give this treasure away to the bandit? I've heard it brings misfortune to its owner, anyway."
Terence stared at Kissur with astonishment. The latter suddenly broke into laughter and slapped the Earthman on his shoulder.
"I gotcha!" Kissur cried out, "I gotcha again! Don't you get jokes?"
A phone squealed. Bemish picked up the receiver and slammed it back down.
"It's not that I just stopped getting jokes," Bemish screamed. "I will start believing in this treasure myself tomorrow! I will believe in a field witch that is born of a rotten pole, in a tin can witch that is born of an old tin can and in a carburetor witch coming from a carburetor dumped in a swamp. I will believe that I am building a hole to hell, put a white robe on and go preaching to the Following the Way that Earthmen are demons and everything made by them is a phantom because I am not able to prove it's not true."
"Actually, it's very easy," Kissur said.
"What?"
"It's easy to prove that Earthmen don't send phantoms."
"Be so kind, tell me."
"It's a very old trick," Kissur said, "I used it myself eight years ago when I ran across a gang of crazies in some province. Their chief assured that he was invulnerable to arrows and I told him that if it was the case why wouldn't he stand next to a wall and I would shoot at him with my bow. And he believed what he was saying and he stood next to a wall. I struck him so that my arrow entered his chest and stuck out of his spine for a full elbow and he pulled his legs from under himself and hung from this arrow and his followers ran away, disappointed. It would be enough for you to take an assault rifle and suggest to their preacher to place his belly in the way of a rifle burst. If you, say, stay alive than all our hardware is a phantom and I promise you to leave, and if you die than you lied. Don't you like it?"
"No."