The Sardonyx Net (53 page)

Indeed, Rhani thought. But you are on my world now, you superior, supercilious son-of-a-kerit. “Are you in exile?” she said.
 

He waved the cigarette. “Oh, no. I'm here on business.”
 

Rhani said dryly. “So am I.”
 

“Oh, dear,” he said, “now I've offended you. I beg your pardon.” He exhaled. Rhani's teeth ached, and she realized she was clenching them. “But you must have suspected, Domna, that one motive behind this rather elaborate charade was to attract and hold your attention.”
 

“Charade?” she said.
 

He brandished his hand at the walls. “Well, as you point out, this is hardly where one would expect to find an officer of a major planetary corporation.”
 

“One never knows,” Rhani said. “People are so strange.” She watched him begin to frown as he realized that he'd been insulted. “And I've never been to Enchanter.”
 

“Nor I to Chabad,” said U-Ellen. “I find it—charming, though a bit bleak.”
 

“It can be, yes,” Rhani said. She wondered how long it would take him to come to the point. “Of course, this is not a typical city district.”
 

“I assumed not. But I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to see Abanat properly. Indeed, officially I am not here.” U-Ellen smiled, and breathed smoke.
 

“How did you do that?” Rhani asked. I have a reputation to uphold, she thought, as a forthright Chabadese. Besides, he might actually be willing to tell me.
 

“Oh, I had help, Domna,” U-Ellen said. “From The Pharmacy.”
 

Rhani felt as if she had just been punched in the chest. She said, “I am astonished to learn that a respectable Enchantean businessman has any contact with The Pharmacy.”
 

He nodded, pleased. “We are partners.” He spread his hands. “You see, I trust you.”
 

Rhani did not see at all. She wondered if U-Ellen were telling the truth. “Who is ‘we'?” she asked.
 

“My company.” His eyes gleamed from his smooth face. His physical perfection—even his hands were unmarred, delicate as glass—made her uncomfortable.
 

“I am flattered,” she said gravely. “What you have just admitted would be of great interest to the Federation Police. How can you be sure I won't go to them?”
 

“Go to the Hype cops?” U-Ellen chuckled. “Domna, I'm not a fool. You would never go to them. Besides, they know it. Or rather, Michel A-Rae knows it. He's known it for years.”
 

“Really?” Rhani said. “Then how is it that you are not in jail?”
 

U-Ellen choked, and coughed. His complexion darkened. Rhani glanced at Dana. His fingers were tapping on the arm of his chair. U-Ellen recovered sufficiently to say, “Domna, you have no idea how humorous that is.”
 

“Enlighten me,” Rhani said.
 

“Michel A-Rae is my cousin,” U-Ellen said. “Michel U-Anasi that was. And even my fanatic cousin Michel is not about to hunt down and incarcerate the members of his own family.”
 

Cousin? she thought. She looked for the resemblance—but you could not trust physical correspondence when dealing with Enchanteans. They were all changelings. Michel U-Anasi, she thought. I'll remember that. “Do you ever see him?” she said.
 

“See Michel? Absolutely not!” said U-Ellen. “It's been years since he communicated with us. Indeed, his rather misplaced sense of duty is part of the reason I am here.” Reaching to the cabinet, he lifted a straw fan and fanned himself with languid strokes. His nails were pale green.
 

Rhani wondered if he knew the value of the information he had just given her. He was so pompous.... But beneath his uxorious facade she sensed intelligence, caution, and malice. She would have to take care with him.
 

She said, hoping to hear more about Michel A-Rae, “He claims to be very moral. I assume he finds his family's connection with The Pharmacy repugnant?” As she said it, she remembered A-Rae describing how he had repudiated his family because they profited from the slave system. Her nerves began to vibrate.
 

U-Ellen said, “Moral is as moral does. He was an unpleasant child, very bossy and possessive. A charming bully. Perhaps you know the type?”
 

Domna Sam, Rhani thought. “Yes,” she said.
 

“One man's morality,” U-Ellen intoned, “is another's prison.”
 

Rhani had heard the dictum before. She wondered if U-Ellen was feeding her a tissue of lies. She did not think so. She sipped the punch again. U-Ellen continued, “It's fascinating you know, how history alters according to who writes the books. Michel now claims he has always hated the slave system. Yet at one time he wanted to be a medic, and to work on the Net. His ambition was quite vigorous, really.” He smiled, and stretched his arms. “But I did not come to Chabad to talk about my cousin.”
 

He seemed quite at home in the hot courtyard. Rhani's neck hurt. She wanted badly to shake him up, but could not see how to do it. Isobel would have known, she thought.
 

“I have a proposal to make,” U-Ellen said. “More punch?”
 

“No.”
 

“Then let me begin by acquainting you with a few simple facts about the drug trade.”
 

Rhani's muscles stiffened. “Citizen,” she said tightly, “I doubt there is anything that you can tell a Yago about the drug trade.”
 

He stubbed out his cigarette and looked at her. “Domna, please. I am not insulting you. There are facts that neither you nor any other Chabadese resident knows. Just listen.”
 

Rhani said, “Go on.” A sand lizard, impelled by curiosity or perhaps drawn by the smell of the smoke, wriggled through a crack in the stone by U-Ellen's right ankle.
 

“You know the drug laws,” U-Ellen said. The sunlight winked off the jewels on his hands as he brought the tips of his fingers together. “The Federation, in its wisdom, forbids the inter-sector sale of certain drugs, among them dorazine. Many decades ago, a criminal consortium known as The Pharmacy began to manufacture dorazine and transport it to this sector. The dorazine formula is a carefully guarded secret—so secret, in fact, that chemists working in the Enchanter labs have been unable to analyze the drug or discover how it is made.”
 

“I know this,” Rhani said.
 

“Bear with me, Domna. More wine?” He lifted a decanter. Dana shook his head, declining. “Domna, more punch? No? Well, to continue—about fifty years ago, The Pharmacy approached us, Pharmaceuticals, Inc., I mean. They were having manufacturing problems. They had started out as a transport network, and had no real idea of efficient production methods. You can imagine how they tried to run a plant! They asked us for advice. We agreed to sell it to them.” He lit another cigarette.
 

Rhani watched the lizard. It had settled next to U-Ellen's discarded gown, and was tasting the green fabric with an orange tongue. Stay detached, she told herself. Don't get excited. Remember what Isobel said...."That's very interesting.”
 

U-Ellen was somewhat nettled. It pleased her that it showed. He sucked hard on the cigarette and blew the smoke out with force. “In exchange for this assistance, we bought a twenty percent interest in The Pharmacy.”
 

“What?” Dana said.
 

“Yes,” said U-Ellen. “We had hoped to buy the dorazine formula from them, but they adamantly refused to sell it. However, everything we could learn about them convinced us that we would not regret our twenty percent.”
 

“And have you?” Rhani said.
 

“Our profits have been on the order of thirty million credits per year.”
 

Dana said, “Sweet mother.” His lean face was awed.
 

Rhani scowled. “I would like some more punch, please.” She handed U-Ellen her glass; startled by the movement, the lizard scurried to its hole. U-Ellen refilled her glass with the sweet, cool liquid, and she sipped it. “Thank you.” She watched him over the rim of the glass. “How has Michel A-Rae's behavior as captain of the drug detail affected those profits?”
 

U-Ellen studied the fabric of his pants with great interest. After a pause, he said, “Badly. The Pharmacy now wishes to halt the manufacture of dorazine.”
 

Rhani's nerves quivered. “That would be foolish.”
 

“We think so, too,” U-Ellen said. “Not that Pharmaceuticals, Inc., would not survive. We would probably do quite well, since we hold the sector manufacturing patent on pentathine.” He coughed. “However, our pentathine plant, while adequate for current manufacturing needs, is quite small, and in order to upgrade it we would need to pour money into it, money which we will not get if the present trade restrictions convince The Pharmacy to cease manufacturing dorazine....”
 

Rhani said, “You have, of course, offered to buy the dorazine formula from them.”
 

“Yes. And this time they agreed to do so.” The words should have been triumphant, but there was no joy in U-Ellen's tone.
 

“And?” Rhani said.
 

U-Ellen stared at his cigarette tip. “They ask for payment of thirty million credits.”
 

“Fitting,” Rhani said.
 

“You don't understand,” U-Ellen muttered. “We don't have it. They want the full amount, you see, and there's no possible way we can liquidate that much capital. Recently members of my family have undertaken certain ventures which have not turned out as well as they expected. A great deal of money was lost.”
 

Rhani said, “I am sorry to hear that you have suffered such vicissitudes.”
 

He scowled. “Therefore,” he said, “Pharmaceuticals, Inc. would like to propose that Family Yago join us in purchasing the dorazine formula.”
 

At last, Rhani thought, at last.... She drew a breath. “That's quite an offer, citizen,” she said. “Tell me, why did you, in order to reach me, involve yourself and me in this—charade?” She looked pointedly at her own, and then at U-Ellen's clothes.
 

Affronted, he said, “Domna, I am wearing usual clothing for
my
world. What you are wearing—well, I assumed you dressed so by choice.”
 

“I don't mean the clothing,” Rhani said. “I mean why not approach me openly? You could have walked to my door and announced yourself. From whom are you hiding, your partners?”
 

U-Ellen winced. “No, Domna. Though we would rather that they remain unaware of this visit. No, the, uh, people I have been avoiding by living in this rather dispiriting and uncivilized part of town are my dreadful cousin and his henchmen-and-women.
 

“I see,” Rhani said. She rolled the glass between her palms. U-Ellen picked up the straw fan and waved it. “But A-Rae is no longer powerful, and is being hunted by the Abanat police.”
 

He said, “Until he is located and in custody, I feel I should maintain my current, uh, distance from him, Domna.”
 

Rhani understood his desire to remain unnoticed by his cousin, as well as his unstated lack of confidence in the Abanat police. “I expect he will be in custody soon,” she said. She saw Dana grimace, and grinned to herself. She wondered if U-Ellen had heard the rumor which Imre Kyneth had passed on to her, and decided to test it. “With A-Rae gone, what do you think will happen on the drug circuit?”
 

U-Ellen's brown hand whitened on the handle of his fan. “There are rumors that the next captain of the drug detail will be someone from Dickson's World. I don't know if you know what that means, Domna.”
 

“I know what it means,” Rhani said. Well, she thought, if I hear it one more time, I'll know it's true. “So if The Pharmacy does not receive thirty million credits for the dorazine formula from us, they will either cease producing dorazine altogether or possibly sell it elsewhere.”
 

“I doubt anyone would be fool enough to buy it,” U-Ellen said. “One could always ask the Federation to legalize it. But the bureaucrats at Nexus Compcenter seem unenthusiastic about drugs now, and by the time the request is received and processed, the drug network will be in jail and there would probably be a major social upheaval on Chabad.”
 

Rhani said, “We do not expect the referendum to take place, citizen, if that's what you mean.”
 

“It isn't. By the time dorazine is made legally importable, Domna, you will have a slaves' revolution on your hands.”
 

“Yes,” Rhani said softly. This was the nightmare all Chabadese citizens lived with. U-Ellen was right; only if the manufacture of dorazine could be brought within the sector within the next six months could Chabad, under the current system, survive. History has its own way of protecting the past, she thought. I wonder if Ramas I-Occad will be the revolution's first martyr.
 

“How much money do you want from me, citizen?” she said.
 

“Fifteen million credits,” he answered. “Fifty percent.”
 

Rhani closed her eyes. Fifteen million credits in liquid assets: she tried to remember the figures Tak Rafael had shown her.