Should I ignore her? Go to the Boards and buy an aluminum and sell one just to spite her? I had already seen what happened and it wasn’t pretty. Now I knew the reason why.
Had Zeti sent me to the Boards with the purpose of upsetting the market?
It seemed too much of a coincidence. He wanted me to go personally and didn’t care I hadn’t succeeded. And his fourth cousin probably owned a planet-sized world-ship, so I can’t imagine a single share of aluminum from our little space station was that important to him.
So what did Zeti get out of it?
He had told me that he hoped I wasn’t betrayed again. And previously he said he hoped we weren’t shackled in despair for ten thousand years.
I couldn’t do much with ten grand of shackles but betrayal was something I could comprehend. As far as I saw it, you couldn’t be betrayed by people you disliked. Betrayal meant they were people you trusted. Your friends.
I didn’t have a lot of friends, really. Not good friends. I had a lot of acquaintances and people I was friendly with, but if it came down to it, they’d sell me out if the price was right. Maybe they’d feel bad about it later—when the money ran out—but probably not.
MTB was a friend. Zadeck had been a friend. Rendrae, for all my making fun of him, was a friend. About a few dozen gang bosses and strong-arm thugs might be considered friends or close to friends. Garm had been a friend. Delovoa was probably my best friend, which was sad.
Of all those, only Garm really had the power to betray me. Zadeck was dead. Rendrae had already proven he wasn’t capable. MTB I don’t think could even spell “betrayal.” Delovoa could betray me a thousand million ways, but just about all of them would have left me dead decades ago. Everyone else simply didn’t know enough about my operations to have much influence.
But maybe I was putting too much emphasis on Zeti’s words. He was a big floating crystal. It was like trying to guess the motivation for a sentient sugar cube.
Still, I had to get more information and I decided to use alternate sources.
“Look who’s back,” aRj’in smiled. “I told you he’d come around. Didn’t I tell you?”
We were in aRj’in’s club and he was seated at a table. Four of his men were in discreet corners of the room.
His men stood there stony-faced, smart enough to not answer rhetorical questions from their boss. I was visiting alone, so none of my own Stair Boys would know about this operation.
“So. I want to hire some of your men—” I started.
“You do? Well, la-la-la. The Supreme Kommilaire and Big Secretary Guy wants to hire my men. From my gang. I should be flattered.”
If anyone was going to betray me, it wasn’t a boss I was barely on speaking terms with. At least it wouldn’t be called betrayal.
“You interested or not?”
“Why can’t you have your pretty boy Kommilaire do it?” he asked.
“I thought you said you don’t ask people what their reasons are when you lend them money.”
“Yeah, and you convinced me that that wasn’t, uh,” and he waved his hand in the air looking for the right word. He looked to his men, who didn’t help. Finally back at me. “Wise.”
“I need it because my men are busy.”
“Busy, he says. And my men aren’t? You all aren’t busy?” he asked his thugs. “Should I fire you guys?”
I wasn’t going to take a lot more of this. I think he got that vibe.
“Fine, Hank, what do you want?”
“Someone is hiring the feral kids. I want to know who and when,” I said.
“What, are we going to go ask feral kids their business? They don’t even speak Colmarian. They’re vermin.”
“No, just watch them. I was told they have some… handlers who go to the same spots and farm out jobs to them. Sometimes even knocking over gang businesses. Don’t try and attack or break it up, just tail them.”
“Tail the ferals?”
“No, I know where they are. Tail the buyers. The people hiring the feral kids.”
“And what do I get for this? That’s a lot of time in a dangerous area. Ferals will tear your liver out and roast it on a fire for supper.”
“It depends on what you can give me.”
“What is the best? Assuming we give you gold?” he pushed.
“Your brother. He’s on the Royal Wing. I can get him out,” I said.
aRj’in lost his smile and was stunned.
“Don’t never anyone leave Royal Wing,” he said slowly.
“There’s always a first time.”
He thought long about that.
“What if I don’t want him to come out? Guaranteed,” aRj’in said in a quiet voice.
Damn. I came here ready to offer this great boon. And he wants me to do the exact opposite. To be a crooked judge. I mean, no one had left the Royal Wing before, but I was now open to the idea.
His brother was a standard murderer who had been caught too many times. Probably just a dumber version of aRj’in himself. Maybe he expected a power struggle if his brother was let out.
Now that I made the leap to making Royal Wing sentences non-permanent, I wasn’t comfortable about negotiating away the life of someone based on the back dealing with a third party.
“No,” I said. “I don’t have any plans on letting him out, but I don’t want to touch that.”
“What’s the difference? You were going to let him out based on this job. I’m just saying don’t let him out based on this job.”
Yeah, what was the difference?
“I guess… leniency can be given. A second chance. But you can’t take it away just because we made an arrangement.”
“What the holy hell are you talking about? He’s been in Royal Wing for seven years. The guy’s a cutthroat—and I mean that literally. He cuts throats. He should be dead and you’re talking about leniency?”
“If he’s as bad as you say, he won’t be eligible for parole,” I said.
“What’s that? ‘Parole?’ Are you making this stuff up?”
“Yeah. Who else is there to make it up?” I said.
aRj’in was shaking his head.
“This city is a joke. Parole. Look, if you keep my brother in for another seven years, I’ll give you a dozen of my men. You can dress them up in frilly skirts and call them all Miss Chee-chee.”
It would be so easy. I had the power to do all this. But those speeches I gave my Kommilaire had to mean something.
“I can’t guarantee it. I can’t make those deals. Look, he might never get out. We haven’t made the criteria yet.”
aRj’in jumped up, slamming his fists on the table.
“So you come here asking my help and tell me you’re going to let out one of the craziest killers in Belvaille who has a personal vendetta against me? Is that how you do business?”
Yeah, this wasn’t going well.
“Isn’t there anything else you want? Besides thumbs. I’m poor,” I said. “Up until a few minutes ago, you wouldn’t have been negotiating about your brother.”
“Up until a few minutes ago I didn’t know he was about to get out of the Royal Wing!”
“He’s not! No one is. Put that out of your head.”
“Easy for you to say, you didn’t help get him shipped away.”
“Of course I did,” I said. “If he’s on the Royal Wing I had something to do with it.”
“Yeah, but your fat neck is too thick to cut. He won’t have a problem with mine.”
“What else do you want?”
“I want my casino on Oelisht to be able to have fully-nude dealers and servers,” aRj’in stated quickly.
A lot of establishments had nudes. Many more didn’t because it just became a hassle to deal with lechers and the Kommilaire were far too short-staffed to bother. I couldn’t remember offhand why his casino wasn’t allowed to have them. Presumably it had been restricted for some reason.