"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…"
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?"
Bemish suppressed a desire to burst into hysterical laughter. Then he recalled the stories about the zealots' cunning and how they enjoyed placing a man in absurd situations and watching his actions. What if the old man understood everything about space ships? He knew exactly that Bemish would be able to explain to him what an escape velocity was but he didn't know what Bemish would do after such a question.
Bemish hadn't exactly shown himself in the best light and he stuck his nose in the tea cup.
"Listen," the old man said, having realized that he wouldn't get an answer, "you talked to this puppy and to Kissur and to the great sovereign and even to this briber Shavash and you managed to find the common ground with everyone. How have you managed it?"
"I don't know," Bemish said. "It probably happened because I always try to speak truth. People rarely tell the truth to each other. They either flatter each other and think that they are lying or they are rude to each and think that they are telling the truth. But they tell the truth very rarely."
"What truth will you say about yourself? Will you admit that you are a demon?"
"No," Bemish said, "I will not lie and say that I am a demon and I will not say that you are wrong. You see, I grew up in a country where they think that the people are always right. If so, many people feel themselves slighted, they must have reasons for it. If so many people hate Earthmen they must have reasons for it. I think that the main reason is that you are poorer than Earthmen. And I think that the only way to change it is to help you to become as rich as Earthmen. That's why I am building this spaceport."
"You are connected to some very bad people," the old man said, "For instance, to a man named Shavash. He is a backside of the world, a jerboa turned into a man, a filthy duck with seven tongues and no soul. His black shadow found its way into our counsel and his black shadow stretches over the construction. Think upon my words."
Having said this, the old man stood and left without bowing. Ashinik rushed out with him.
Three more days passed and Ashinik said, "Mr. Bemish, if you wish to talk to the White Elder again, you should be in the capital, in the hotel Archan the day after tomorrow at the dew hour."
Bemish couldn't fall asleep throughout the night. Archan was unquestionably the Empire's most luxurious hotel. It was located in the Emperor's palace territory, where the place where the Cloud Houses for visiting officials used to be. Archan retained all the crazy luxury of the dwellings built for visiting provincial governors and judges of the ninth rank; additionally it acquired all the newest comforts, including computerized climate control. Evil tongues added that Archan also retained hidden passages that executioners had used to visit the governors called to the capital to receive capital punishment. The medieval spy holes had been adapted for communication equipment and much more modern surveillance hardware had taken over.
The fact that White Elder stayed at Archan and not at a five star Hilton demonstrated that the sect not only had considerably more money that Bemish had suspected before but it also had some patrons at the very top. Who were these patrons? Clearly, it was not Shavash. The old man spoke about Shavash with fresh disgust. Bemish was ready to swear that an informer of Shavash's had either been near Iniss or even attended the meeting itself and that crabs had already feasted on him.
Bemish lay in his bed and thought that maybe he, the main demon of the Empire, who never sent spies, never bribed and never intrigued, managed to succeed where the cunning official Shavash failed. He managed to make the White Elder, the Earthmen's enemy, reconsider his policy.
"You are absent-minded tonight," Inis said. "Has anything happened?"
Terence smiled in the dark.
"It's nothing. Sleep little one."
The woman carefully caressed his chest.
"Oh, Mr. Bemish, I can feel that you are troubled. I hope that it's not due to the accounting error I made yesterday. If it's something else, why don't you tell me about it?"
Bemish smiled slightly imagining Inis advising him. She, however, was right — he, indeed, needed advice.
Bemish climbed out of bed and, having walked to the bathroom, dialed a number. Surprisingly, he heard an answer immediately even though it was quite late.
"Mrs. Idari? This is Bemish. I need to talk to you."
"I am listening, Terence."
"It's not a phone conversation. I will be in the capital in two hours. May I see you?"