48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 44: Igor 02

The contrast in the pair was interesting. Harry, the less personable but the more practical operator, against Larry, the friendlier and more theoretical one. There didn't seem to be much of a friendship between the two men. Idly, I wondered if Harry might, one day, think about Larry as a candidate for slavery. My own experience showed how easily it could be done!

Albert did not really have a Marketing Department. As he told the story, his House of Slavery had "just grown, like a mushroom" from simple businesses he'd joined in Macau and Hong Kong after he'd left the Corps. Now, I was the "young whippersnapper" who was following in Albert's wake. Still, the idea of serving a universal and time-honored want or need of rich folks seemed stable enough. The ceaseless churning of new ideas in the industry would present just as many new opportunities as problems, I thought.

In that light, Larry was a more useful instructor for me. His ideas about Account Management business planning sounded reasonable. I was reminded about how some men in the Corps had so catered to their bosses "up the line" that their careers had looked brilliant. My own assessment was a bit more moderate. These guys had moved faster, yes, but they hadn't moved farther than they deserved. It was rare that any of them made it to Flag Officer status. I wondered if my career in the slavery business would make it that far.

There was another Festive Dinner to mark the completion of my internship and I left the UK with an appreciation of more than the beauty of Shakespeare's language: a group of friends and contacts I would work with over the years.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 130: I Put the Internship Experiences to Work

Back at Albert's School, I went through each of the Departments and Bureaus, learning the details of all the operations. From some of my internship experiences, I was able to make some suggestions for improved efficiency and cost reductions in a few places. At least, Albert and some of his inner circle thought I was a "comer." I was relieved to learn that this wasn't just a shortening of "newcomer," but a mark of respect, that I was coming into a useful place in the business.

Only a few years later, Albert invited me "out for a drink." This was not his usual practice, so I was instantly on alert. The Corps trains you for these occasions, so I wasn't so much worried as curious. It turned out that one of Albert's customers, an Englishman named Martin, was building a business in Hong Kong. He already had a few slaves and wanted to add a Training Department to develop these slaves and, possibly, to deal in the aftermarket for slaves. This involved slaves whom the original Houses did not want back: they were too fixed in their training to take on new skills or too rebellious to be worth much to a new Owner. It was a low-profit but potentially large market, Martin thought, and was not being adequately served.

He'd asked Albert about the business and Albert had confirmed his ideas. Martin had then asked Albert if he could recommend someone to head up this new Training Department. Before he answered Martin, Albert wanted to see if I had any interest in such a job.

We talked about the industry we were in and the business Martin wanted to develop. I had seen some of the "Rejects" that had been returned to our House. By and large, we'd managed to "Recertify" almost all of them, selling them on to a good Owner. Only a few had been shipped off to waterfront bagnios in the Southern Hemisphere. By the time we had finished a few bottles of wine, I had told Albert he could pass my name to Martin and we'd see what happened.

What happened, of course, was that Martin had me come to Hong Kong, where he was building The Enterprises into a world-wide conglomerate where his slaves could be fitted into any number of accounting slots without difficulty. We hit it off pretty easily and, several months later, I "retired" from Albert's School and became Training Executive for Martin. The idea of a Slave Rework and Resale Market never really took off, probably because so much new merchandise was coming to market and the waterfront bordellos kept taking any slaves their owners wanted "gone."

I had gone to one or two of these to see what they were doing and was startled to find that, in contrast to the care our industry was extending to slaves, these places were, literally, working their slaves to death. In a way, it did make sense: these girls were so available that they cost very little. The cash they brought in was never going to be very impressive. Thus, their owners had little incentive to do more than provide basic food for the girls.

One owner noted, sadly, that his Security costs for the girls were higher than his food bills for the girls. "After all, each of my guards has a wife to support and a kid or two who wants to go to college," he said. I commiserated with him briefly, but I could see the economics he faced. It was no wonder that most of the girls lasted about six or eight months. Then, they were generally tossed out on the street, sometimes with only the skimpy dress they were wearing at the time. Lucky ones found a home with the cop who picked them up. Most got taken into the gangs that ran the waterfronts, where they were used until they died. Each gang, I learned, had a favorite river or forest where a body could be left until the environment reclaimed it.

My report to Martin included my resolve never to supply that market. Martin agreed and found other tasks and projects to keep me busy as The Enterprises grew.

All in all, I thought I had done a pretty good job for the folks in East St. Louis who had shipped me off to the military to "straighten me out." I had served well enough in the Marines to make each promotion about on time and had collected a few medals and battle stars along the way. I had helped any number of kids from poverty find new homes and careers. I had provided new opportunities for many young women and men to serve their betters in satisfying ways. Now, I was helping build an economic engine that would bring progress to the world. It wasn't a bad picture, if I had to say so myself.

I still had a few things on my Bucket List. I hadn't run my own business, for example, but had always worked for others. On a personal level, I hadn't found a woman to be my soulmate, and I didn't have the first clue how to go about finding one. There was a sizable population in Hong Kong and Macau, but the "right" woman never seemed to show up. Unfortunately, this was a problem for which even the Empress was not going to be helpful. But, as with everything else, you never knew where lightning would strike. So, I kept coming to work.

Author's Note: This takes Igor's Tale up to the present. Again, my sincere thanks to Freddie Clegg and Phil Lane for permission to "interact" with the FCE and AKE universes they have created in their narratives. For further events, please follow the next Parts of 48 Hours on Blue Bayou as detailed by Carole99 and by Taliesin1 and by me,

— J Spe

P.S. And please keep your Comments, Questions, and Suggestions coming. We read and discuss each one, aiming to provide what our Dear Readers want!