Having checked it out with archives, they found out the remnants were the old temples of Adera-benefactor goddess that had prospered almost two thousand years ago when the capital officials hadn't dared to force their way into these surroundings calling the local dwellers "bandits" but not, however, making any attempts to eradicate them.
This Adera lady had quite an irritable disposition, she had a tendency to appear in people's dreams extorting gifts and even human sacrifices, threatening with floods; indescribable orgies took place at her celebrations. The sovereign Irshahchan obliterated the temple mercilessly, recognizing this cult to be a crime against humanity and disobedience to the authorities.
Having being trained to respect any ruin, Bemish stopped all the construction there and asked Shavash and Kissur what he should do. Kissur told him to clean up the damned temple and recycle it for construction materials, if needed. Shavash took a look at the altar where boys were rumored to be offered as a sacrifice and said that the altar was not impressive as a cultural monument since carving was too crude.
The newspapers did hear about the temple however. The newspapers demanded the Earthmen to take their dirty hands away from the national heritage. Bemish snapped back tactlessly that the Weians themselves had destroyed the temple while the Earthmen actually found it.
Soon, the most unbelievable myths related to the temple riches emerged. They had dug out a large two hundred meter deep well in the temple, and a rumor emerged that every local dweller had thrown his most valuable belongings down this well as a sacrifice to Adera for centuries. Half-drunk construction workers and deranged religious peasants believed every inch of it and were climbing over the fence built around the temple twenty four hours a day. Bemish ordered an exploration of the well's bottom and, in the presence of the authorities and the journalists, loads of flint arrowheads, brass round handles and clay female figurines with huge bellies was extracted. There was a possibility that the local denizens had indeed thrown their most valuable belongings down the Adera well but, during these times, flint arrowheads had been the most valuable things here.
That, of course, didn't hurt the myth. Everybody saw how much equipment was thrown at the well and that a hundred men spent three days around it! No need! The rumors assured that the well appeared to be empty because the managers had robbed it earlier. The money amounts, the names of the spaceships used to transport the treasure to Earth, the names of the museums, the name of the construction director and Shavash's name were specified.
The morning of the eighteenth, Bemish found himself in the capital at a conference dealing with developing countries investments issues. Bemish was presented there both as a speaker and an exhibition object.
Bemish conversed with the relevant people and, immediately after the talk he left for the spaceport, having picked up a man named Born — a United Galactic Fund representative who was observing the situation with the stabilization credit allocated for the Empire.
A flock of local journalists waited for Bemish at the helicopter and attacked him with their questions.
"Mr. Bemish, is it true that when an old catalpa was ripped out at your construction, blood appeared at its roots? Doesn't this omen foretell misfortunes?"
"No."
"Is it true that a she-goat nearby changed to a he-goat?"
"A she-goat didn't change to a he-goat."
"Is it true, that they dug out a rock that had been buried during White Emperor's times and it had words written on it, "In a month after this rock is extracted the construction will perish."
"It is true. The words were, however, written with phenyl paint developed and set in production five years ago. If the zealots decide to counterfeit the White Emperor's words again, I would advise them not to buy paint in the nearest kiosk."
"Mr. Bemish, is it true that you paid taxes this year with Weian National Bank bonds at their face value?"
Here, Bemish's escort — he, accordingly to a local custom, obtained himself three beefy flatheads — socked the peppiest journalist on his jaw and the newspapermen bolted.
On the return helicopter trip to Assalah, Born inquired why the journalist's had been punched in his mug.
"He is from White Sky," Bemish answered. "This is a newspaper owned by zealots who think Earthmen to be demons crawling out from underground. They say that if we flew from the sky, we would meet gods on the way. He was asking boorish questions."
"Ah, zealot," the satisfied banker drawled, "zealots aren't dangerous."
"It's not dangerous but it's annoying," Bemish agreed.
"What were they asking about taxes?"
Bemish paused deciding whether or not he should explain. But the whole thing had raised a stink and they had mentioned about it in the newspapers couple times.
"There was a bank," Bemish said, "that went bankrupt. The government nationalized it, restructured its loans and turned them into bonds."
"And what is the bonds' value?"
"It's seven-ten percent of their nominal value."
"And at what value were your bonds appraised?"
"They were appraised at hundred percent of their nominal value."
The banker grunted with astonishment, but he controlled himself and didn't say anything.
Bemish asked Born what Weian official he liked the most, and Mr. Gerald Born named Shavash without hesitation. And he added, "What do you think — would Mr. Shavash agree to resign from his Empire appointment and head the developing markets department in our bank?"
Bemish almost gaped.
"Why do you think," He asked cautiously, "that Shavash may want to retire?"
"Because of all this slander directed at him! I can tell you with total frankness that not a single tranche of our credit would reach its destination if it was not for Shavash! The local officials would have embezzled everything! This is the only man who is doing something to save the country's economy. And what does he get back? The best Empire economist languishes under a dimwitted minister and the officials fling disgusting slander at him being unable to endure one honest man in their midst. I think that the best solution for him would be to leave this planet. Do you disagree?"
"No, not really," Bemish said, "Shavash is an amazing man — you are right."
Bemish wanted to pass Born into Giles's hands, so that the latter dealt with the guest till the take off, but Giles vanished somewhere and even his cell was off — Bemish resolved to thrash him soundly.
Bemish personally walked his old acquaintance to the boarding ramp. The latter was pleasantly surprised having learned that the spaceport had an extraterritorial status and the spaceport's management collected taxes and had independent jurisdiction."
Bemish had barely returned to his office when a phone rang.
Bemish picked up the receiver.
"Hello, Terence," the fairest Empire economist told him. "What's the story with Golden Deer Company? I heard that you detained their freight."
"There is no story," Bemish said. "It's just that there is forty tons of electronics there and they paid tariffs for five tons only. Why don't they pay everything required and pick it up."
"Terence, be so kind. Their guy will drop by — stamp his papers and let him go." And Shavash put the receiver down not waiting for a reply.
Giles announced himself in half an hour. He shakily walked in the office. His face was smashed and his expensive suit was splattered in mud.
"Oh, my God, Giles what's happened to you?"
"Somebody attacked me."
"Who was it?"
"Who was it? It was some hoodlums. It was all the damn hoodlums of this planet who don't have anything better to do than to get hired at this construction!"