Laldasa (9 page)

“That has never happened!” objected Pritam.

“We propose that it never will.”

Taffik Pritam smiled acidly. “How very prudent of you.”

“It would also be very prudent, Prakash-sama,” interjected the Deva, “if you would take your seat and allow Taffik Pritam to continue with his presentation uninterrupted.”

Prakash bowed his head deferentially and sat. Ranjan Vrksa immediately began to whisper in his ear.

“Do continue, Pritam-sama.” The Deva favored the Avasan with a nod.

“Thank you, Deva. I also lodge official complaint against the Kasi-Nawahr Consortium for deliberately standing in the way of our legal free enterprise. They have blocked shipment of our independently contracted ores, which has caused us to default on at least two hard-won contracts. We are trapped, Deva. Even when we can contrive to get the equipment to Avasa to get the ore out of the ground, we cannot ship to more lucrative markets because Consortium associates own the ships on which it must be freighted. Since their Quality Control discounts at least forty percent of our yield as inferior or impure grade, we are left with no choice but to sell to the Consortium at a substantially lower price.”

“Naturally, we pay inferior prices for inferior ores,” muttered Prakash, just loudly enough to be heard.

Before the Deva could utter censure, Pritam rounded on him. “There is nothing inferior about our ores! We have independent analysts who will testify-“

“Then sell your ores to them. The choice is yours.”

“If we are to feed our families, we have no choice!” His face flushed with emotion, Pritam turned an impassioned gaze on the Council. “Noble Varmana, members of the Inner Circle, all we ask of you is the protection of our right as citizens of this Commonwealth to pursue our livelihood unfettered by Consortium interference. Our ancestors migrated to Avasa as adita—free as the world they found. The Consortium would now enslave us. We ask only that you allow us our freedom under Mehtaran law.”

The comment light on the front of the KNC box lit up momentarily.

Deva Radha acknowledged it. “The Consortium Speaker requests leave to comment. Do you object, Pritam-sama?”

“No, Deva. Let him speak.”

Prakash saluted his opponent with a mocking bow. “How kind of you. Let me start by reminding Pritam-sama that Avasa's status, under the law, is far from certain.”

“If you are going to speak to Pritam-sama,” interrupted the Deva Radha, “speak to him, not around him. However, I'd rather you address your remarks to the Vrinda Varma itself ... if you don't mind.”

Prakash colored slightly.

Was it possible the man was embarrassed? Or did he merely possess the good sense to fear incurring the displeasure of the Inner Circle? The former wasn't likely, so Jaya decided the good Prakash had finally realized that Deva Radha was not just a “frigid harpy with a sharp tongue,” or whatever he'd had the poor judgement to call her at dinner three nights ago. Jaya had long ago decided that the man was a pompous idiot, but realized a number of people, Duran Prakash among them, thought of Jaya Sarojin in the same terms.

Just now, the pompous idiot was favoring the Assembly with a deep, courtly bow. “My humble apologies, Deva, Noble members of the Inner Circle, respected Varmana. I meant no disrespect. The issue here is a critical one. An emotional one. I lost my temper at these insulting charges. I meant only to say that the legal status of Avasa is in question. Our petition speaks directly to that uncertainty. Surely it is apparent, Noble One, that the citizens of Avasa no longer consider themselves Mehtaran. They are Avasan. Over time, they have become increasingly independent.”

“May I remind you, Prakash-sama,” said Deva Radha, “that they yet hold Mehtaran citizenship.”

“Yes, but they handle many of their own judicial and legislative matters. They have selectively altered timehonored and established systems and customs. They have even elected their own Colonial Council.”

Jaya gathered from Prakash's dramatic delivery that this last bit of news was supposed to be earth-shaking. It was not.

“As they were instructed to do upon petitioning the Inner Circle for the privilege,” the Deva informed him.

Consternation rippled across the representative's brow. He glanced aside and met Vrksa-sama's dark blue and glittering gaze. It was the KNC Vice-director who spoke.

“The Consortium was not aware that the permission of the Inner Circle had been given.”

“The Inner Circle was not aware that it was required to inform the Consortium of administrative decisions that do not effect them.”

“Surely, Noble Deva, it does affect us. It renders our position as a corporate entity rather ambiguous when we don't know whether we're dealing with subject colonies of Mehtar or a sovereign power. However, that's less important than the fact that the Avasans have obviously taken the bestowal of such a privilege as a signal to challenge the authority of the Circle.”

“As your associate pointed out,” said Deva Radha, “the political status of Avasa is ... in flux. But there is no challenge to our authority in that—overt or otherwise. What is obvious is that Avasa is challenging the authority of the Consortium. If you are honest, Vrksa-sama, you will admit that to be your prime concern. Don't try to cloud the issues here by identifying yourselves and your concerns with the Vrinda Varma. There is a difference between government and business, sama. A difference that shall be preserved.”

“Deva, I did not-“

“It is rita,” continued the Deva inexorably. “It is the order of things. Government may often direct business, set its priorities and define its limits. Business should never attempt to reverse the role.”

There was silence from the KNC box.

The Deva removed her light pen from its holder. “Now, if one of you gentlemen would kindly speak to the Consortium's concerns, so that we may consider what are ours.”

“Yes, Deva.” Prakash bowed deferentially, while Ranjan Vrksa reseated himself, his broad face an unbecoming shade of purple. “Our concerns should be obvious. If the Guild of Independent Miners is sanctioned, and if that Guild is allowed to become truly independent, it could result in the Consortium's ruin. Clearly, the first thing they will do is attempt to obtain higher prices for their ores. Prices we will be forced to pay regardless of quality. If they are allowed to sell any amount of ore to any bidder, there is no guarantee that KNC Associates will get the ore they need to do business.

“If they are allowed to ship their products on any vessels at their disposal, then that is just one more revenue the Consortium will be deprived of. Besides which, their ships are not safe. They're old and decrepit. The loss of one vessel would severely cripple monthly ore quotas.”

“Pardon, Deva,” Taffik Pritam interjected. “May I speak to the issue of safety?”

At a grudging nod from Prakash, the Deva signaled the Avasan to speak.

“Our ships are old because that is what we can afford—with few exceptions. But we keep them in the very best condition.”

Prakash objected. “They do not meet with our safety standards.”

“Your safety standards are unduly strict,” countered Pritam. “You will note the Guild proposes that the Vrinda Varma appoint a Safety Council made up of reputable and expert members of the Engineering Guilds who will inspect and pass all ships that carry ore consignments. We propose that the standards”—he glanced at Prakash—“be set jointly by the Consortium, the Guilds and the Vrinda Varma. We then propose that the Miners' Guild be allowed to ship ore on any vessel passed by the Safety Council.”

“Why should the Vrinda Varma go to that sort of expense when the safety inspectors we provide are already doing the job adequately?” Prakash asked.

“They are doing it prejudicially. They are rejecting our vessels on the basis that they lack a new technology we cannot afford.”

“They are rejecting your ships, sama, because they lack a reliable magnetic stabilizer system. The keels of your vessels generate unstable and even volatile fields.”

“Your inspectors specify the VT-255 trim system, which is prohibitively expensive. The old technology is neither obsolete nor unstable. It is merely not the newest system available, which the Consortium has arbitrarily decided to be the only system allowable.”

“There was nothing arbitrary about the decision. The VT255 is the best stabilizer available. We simply cannot allow such precious cargo to be shipped in vessels equipped with anything less trustworthy. The Guild ships must meet our equipage standards ... and they don't.”

The Deva interrupted. “Are the specifications for the VT-255 system available to us as part of your counter-petition, Prakash-sama?”

The KNC Speaker seemed taken aback. “They are ... not with the package we presented, Deva.”

“If you would be so kind as to make them available? Pritam-sama, if you would do the same for the trim system or systems currently in use on Guild vessels?”

Pritam bowed. “I would be pleased to do so, Deva.”

“Very well, now, Prakash-sama, have you any further remarks to address to your original subject?”

“Indeed I have. My original subject, which you may have forgotten during Pritam-sama's rambles, was the financial damage that granting the AGIM petition would cause the Consortium and, in turn, the Mehtaran market and economy. Some consequences are easy to predict, others are more subtle. AGIM is attracting more and more of our independent suppliers. We have even ... ” He paused, seemingly reluctant to continue, and glanced back at the KNC box as if seeking a signal. He got one in the form of a curt nod from Vrksa-sama.

“We have even,” he repeated, “lost some of our employees to Guild mines and foundries. Last month, three of our best pit-lords, two factory administrators and a key marketing manager jumped to Guild establishments. We stand to lose more key personnel and more money if this continues. This issue affects not only every business involved in the Consortium, but it will also be extremely hurtful to Mehtaran consumers, who will be forced to pay much more for the products they need to survive. We foresee that the situation AGIM would thrust upon us will cause a drastic increase in the price of KNC goods and services. I cannot emphasize this enough. The total independence of Avasa could mean the devastation of the Mehtaran economy.”

The Deva nodded, her light pen moving delicately across her monitor. When Prakash fell silent, she looked up. “You have concluded your comments, Duran Prakash?”

“Yes, Deva.”

“Very well. Taffik Pritam, the docket is still yours. I am interested in hearing more of these threats you mentioned.”

The KNC comment light flashed angrily. Before Deva Radha had done more than glance at him, Duran Prakash was on his feet with his mouth open.

“This is a travesty! Don't listen to the ravings of these anarchists!”

“The only ravings I hear presently are yours, Prakashsama.” Deva Radha's voice was like a cool, wet, and heavy stone. “Please seat yourself.”

Prakash sat reluctantly.

As Taffik Pritam spoke, Jaya studied Prakash's face, trying to pry from it some indication of how true the Guild's accusations might be.

“Rokh Nadim has received no less than five threats to his life,” the Avasan claimed. “I, and the other members of the Guild's steering Committee, have also received threats. These threats have been communicated by post, by vicom and via notes tucked into the orders of equipment and provisions we receive from Mehtar.”

A query light flashed on a console three seats to Jaya's right. Behind the console, Kreti Twapar perched like a fat, aging bird on the lip of his seat. “Have any of these threats been delivered in person by people claiming association with the Kasi-Nawhar Consortium?”

“We have been visited by KNC ‘ambassadors,'” replied Pritam. “They substitute words like ‘repercussions' and ‘consequences' for the more straight-forward terms of the covert messages.”

Jaya pressed his own query button and got an immediate electronic nod that displayed as a blinking green icon on his monitor. “What terms did the covert messages use?” he asked.

“A week ago, Rokh Nadim's daughter went to check incoming messages on the family vicom and found this ... ” Pritam consulted his own light-pad. “'If you visit Mehtar, Rokh Nadim, Yama-Death will visit your household. A death for a day. At the end of two days, you will have no sons. At the end of three days, Yama will enjoy your daughter. At the end of four, you will be a widower. When you return to Avasa you will find your family in Yama's Black Palace, underground. The mines you live for will be their death.'”

Nadim's daughter ... Ana had intercepted that message. Jaya shook his head, clearing the image. “So Rokh Nadim stays at home to guard his family?”

“Yes, Lord. He has put his family above all, and the Guilders respect his decision. His children and wife go about armed and with friends and servants watching their every move. No one leaves the compound without protection.”

No one but Anala, thought Jaya wryly. He half-wondered if Rokh Nadim knew that his daughter had come alone to Mehtar for his damn drill bits ... or if he thought the KNC had gotten her. Sending a clandestine message seemed more imperative than ever. He eyed the Guild spokesman speculatively.