Starlight Gleaming Ch. 19

After some fussing around, the contract was produced, fees calculated, and the full payout presented. I produced my charge card.

The manager broke out into a sweat, pointing at a sign on the wall. "I-I-I'm sorry, my lord, but we can only take exact payments."

"What?" I burst out. "This is a charge card guaranteed by the Imperial Bank of Chimorro! This is recognized as being equivalent to cash, and is legal tender for all business throughout the Empire!"

The barrister looked surprised at the manager. The manager might have been able to bamboozle a commoner. However, I was in uniform, and it was obvious I was Warrior Caste.

Glowering, I growled out, "Fine. Will you take a banker's check? Or do you need the amount in cash?"

The fat man swallowed nervously. "My employer insists on cash?"

I glanced around. The three other office workers suddenly looked busy. Aside from the supervisor, they had a single middle-aged armed guard by the entrance, and he wore no vest.

"Where's the nearest bank from here, moron?" I demanded, standing up.

Sweating, he said, "T-two blocks north, one block west from here, Lord Kandikan."

"Present the final full payout amount of the contract in writing, now! I warn you. If you alter the amount by such as a single copper piece, I will arrest you and if you are lucky, you might see daylight in twenty years. While I am gone, you will print out all, and I mean all documents needed to complete the transaction, including preparing a certified receipt for full payment. You will present these documents for Master Ramino to review until my return. Am I clear?"

"That's not our usual procedure," the manager squeaked in protest.

"Give me the damn bill! And you will do as I instruct. Now!"

Suddenly four rifles were charged and safeties went off, and one of the troopers faced the armed guard, who jumped back, jerking up his hands in surrender.

"Please, sir!" the manager begged, going two shades paler.

"Why are you delaying? I am active military and you are a civilian. You are lawfully obligated to follow any of my instructions that do not violate Imperial law. If I have to ask one more time, I will lose my temper and you will get hurt. And then I will arrest you. Am I clear!"

He nervously typed on his keyboard, and then the printer hummed to life. It whirred and a paper shot into the holding tray. The manager gestured to the supervisor, who retrieved it and handed it over.

"Seven hells!" I exclaimed. "This is more than six thousand credits higher than I was quoted two days ago. No, don't you say a single word. I'll pay it. Sowitwee, stay here and assist Master Ramino if he has any questions for you. I will return."

Safeties clicked back on. Sergeant Vaniksl said, "Cooma, stay here with Sergeant Yelts."

Then she and Haytam hustled out after me.

Back outside in the late afternoon air, I recognized Cooma as being Mack's friend from the women's home. Odd how things like that jump out at you unexpectedly.

Haytam got into the front seat, while Vaniksl climbed into the back with me. Corporal Karmek drove us to the bank in short order.

As we entered the financial establishment, the bank guards gave the troopers a nervous look, but the troopers waited in the designated spot for personal guards. The bank was busy, but the window marked for nobility had no clients at all.

I strode with quick deliberation, still fuming from the encounter with those thieves at the contract holding company.

A finely dressed man jumped up from his desk, and as I reached the window, he rapidly unlocked door next to the window, and moved to the teller's seat, inclining his head. "How may I be of service, my lord?"

I took a calming breath. When you are angry with one person or one thing, it's never a good idea to carry it over to others. They don't deserve it, and the fallout is never beneficial.

Taking the printout from my breast pocket, I pushed the paper into the slot under the barred and shielded window.

"I need that in cash," I told the bank teller. I passed along my credit card next.

He asked for secondary identification, and I produced my military ID card. He checked the picture and fed it into a slot, then asked me to put my right index finger into a print-reader. The light came up green. "You are aware, my lord, we must ask the nature of all transactions exceeding ten thousand Imperial credits?"

"I'm paying off an indenture contract. The holder is insisting the payment must be in cash."

"The holder of the contract, my lord?"

"Chantamoco Investments and Holdings. Their name and address are in the footer of that paper you have."

He rapidly typed away at his computer terminal. "Will you please speak your name and the purpose of your cash withdrawal into the microphone, Lord Kandikan?"

"I, Ranji Kandikan, Field Commander, Imperial Air Service, authorize the withdrawal of forty one thousand, two hundred and twelve credits in cash, to pay off the indenture contract held by Chantamoco Investments and Holdings, operating in Chohinze State, to release one Sowitwee Bancorri, Sergeant, Imperial Air Service and one Daydo Bancorri, civilian, from all further debt and obligation outlined by said contract and restoring them as free citizens of the Empire. Is that sufficient?"

He gave a satisfied nod. "Indeed, Lord Kandikan. Thank you. To comply with the Minister of Finance's tax reporting requirements, with your deposition, Chantamoco Investments and Holdings will need to show that transaction on their tax returns in the coming year or be penalized and subject to tax audit. Would you like an envelope for the cash?"

"That would be excellent, thank you."

Bills rapidly shot along a long, thin rail into a metal holding slot. Thousand credit notes first, then hundreds, a ten, and two singles. Once the money settled in the slot, the teller gathered it up and counted out the cash manually, then put the funds into a large envelope. He passed it back to, followed by my receipt, credit card, and my ID card.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Lord Kandikan?"

Giving him a tired smile, I replied, "No. Thank you. Your service is in marked contract to my experience with Chantamoco Investments and Holdings. I am pleased with my transaction." My ID went back onto my lanyard and the envelope into my breast pocket.

"We have been honored to serve you, Lord Kandikan. Have a good day."

With that, we returned to the vehicle, and within minutes we were back in the parking lot of the business front for the obviously corrupt and noxious Bayloks'mec family.

Everyone looked up at me as I re-entered the office. Vaniksl and Haytam resumed their post near Yelts and Cooma.

I glanced at Sowitwee, then focused on Master Ramino. "Are the documents ready?"

The barrister nodded. "I'm satisfied all the necessary documents are here and ready, my lord."

"Good." Going to the counter, laying out the money envelope. "Here's the money. You get it once the documents are all signed. Master Ramino, you will act as notary for the receipt."

Just then there was a crash. The customer service representative, making her way to the back, slipped and fell, knocking over a chair and landing hard. Her skirt flipped up, revealing bare flesh with something on her butt. Flushing with nervousness, she quickly covered up, muttering, "Sorry. I need to go pee."

With Ramino's help, it was simply a matter of minutes of going through and signing where signatures were needed. Once that was done, the money was counted out and handed over. The supervisor collected it while Ramino pulled out a stamp to apply his name and notary seal certifying his witnessing the payment. While Ramino collected the stack of papers, the supervisor opened a floor safe and dropped the money into it.

That writing on the rep's rear end nagged at me. Then I knew.

Crossing the distance to her desk, I said, "Stand up."

The manager paled even more, an act I wouldn't have believed. Because she was slow, I helped lift her up. I pulled up her long skirt and revealed her bare skin.

It wasn't the lack of underwear I was concerned about. It was the line of numbers on her butt cheek indicating her slave status.

Slaves could do professional work only in a private setting, that is, within the home of their owner. These were the same laws that kept Calia from becoming a teacher or a mid-wife because she was a Personal Servant. In public, slaves were limited to menial positions, and were not allowed to perform technical work or to conduct business transactions with free citizens, and they were especially not allowed to conduct business directly with nobility. Imperial law prohibited such; it was a concession to the Guild and Merchant caste from over forty years earlier, and the penalties were stiff. The slaves themselves could be executed.

I strode over to the other two women. "Stand and uncover."

They trembled as they did so. Like the first woman, they wore no underwear and also bore slave tattoos.

I went around the corner to the supervisor. "Show me."

"No need, my lord," he said quietly. "I'm a slave, too."

"Seven hells. The guard. Him, too?"

The supervisor nodded.

"Lovely." I went back to the manager. "Stand up, drop your trousers, and show me your ass. Now!"

"My lord!"

"Sergeant Vaniksl!" I snapped.

"Haytam, disarm the guard!" she barked. Cooma, cover us. Come on, Yelts."

They marched over and while the burly Yelts held him, Vaniksl unbuckled him and pulled down his trousers and underwear. No marks.

Relieved, I let out a slow exhale. Had the manager been a slave, his signatures would have been invalid, the contract worthless, and they would have had my money. Well, not that I would have let them keep it. "Place him under arrest, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

Ramino looked at me. "They're all slaves but for the manager?"

As he was cuffed, the manager began to say we didn't know who we were messing with, that we'd pay for the insults today.

"Vaniksl, stop that racket! Yes, Master Ramino," I confirmed. "Look, there's only thirty minutes before the courthouse closes. They've broken so many laws it's going to take the JAG people and the Imperial auditors a while to sort everything out. Let's go. Once the contract is filed, your part is done. This is my mess to sort out, and trust me, it will get sorted. Sergeants, keep them here, and no outside communication allowed. Come on, Wit."

At my gesture, Ramino handed over the forms needed for the court to Sowitwee. Cooma and Haytam fell in behind us, leaving Vaniksl and Yelts to mind the prisoners.

We followed the barrister since he knew the way.

Driving quickly, we made it the building, up the marble steps and then down the inside stairs to the clerk's window within five minutes of closing. The clerk behind the glass window sighed in exasperation. I was obviously a nobleman, and they were constrained to complete the transaction begun, even if the official time for closing the doors passed.

The clerk worked quickly, filing the documents. I paid the court fees, and the transfer fee of one hundred and fifty credits. I had the clerk make certified copies, and to make certified copies of the original filing documents, and any signed amendments.

Disgruntled, the clerk looked at his screen and tapped away at the keys. Two other clerks helped with collating the copies. The printers spat out another hundred or so sheets, pages were stamped, and I paid still more credits.

A court supervisor waited behind the clerk, and two courthouse guards stood patiently nearby. I was pleased to note that my own two guards were more stoic. It was already twenty minutes past the hour of closing.

When the transactions were at last completed and the documents were in my satchel, the guards escorted us to the doors, unlocked them, and politely but firmly pushed us outside into the evening.

On the marble landing before the wide steps down to the sidewalk, I said, "Wait a moment."

Street lights were coming on as sunset reached completion. Overhead, starlight gleaming from thousands of far-off suns glittered and sparkled like jewels on an ebon tapestry, flickering in the overhead sky in their ancient colored lights.

I took a long, deep inhale and an equally slow exhale. "Smell that, Wit? You and your father are now free Guildsmen again. Congratulations!" I held out my hand to him.

Surprised, he have me an emotional smile as we shook hands.

Then I pulled him in for a quick embrace. "You are my aide, Wit, but you are also my brother in arms and I hope my friend."

"I can never repay all you've done for me, my lord." Understandably, his voice was quite emotional.

"Llam nuqan. After we wrap up things at the holding company, let's say we go get your father."

"Yes, sir!" He grinned in anticipation.

I turned to the barrister. "Master Ramino, thank you. You earned your fee today."

"What about what I've seen? I know about the slaves performing guild and business tasks in public. As an officer of the court, I'm obligated to report the crime."

"How long have you lived around here?"

Startled, he glanced at me sharply. "All my life, my lord."

"Like it here?"

"It's a good life."

"You know the area and the politics pretty well, don't you? Well, here's what I believe. For whatever reason -- and the actual motive isn't relevant, only what transpired afterward. Sowitwee's father was deliberately targeted and his master's license revoked under false evidence, his business and reputation werr destroyed, and his family scattered.

"With his father's humiliation, Sowitwee could either run away to another city or do what he could to help his father, and his only real option to improve his situation was to join the military. While in the service, he met and fell in love with a fine young woman named Nariya, and shortly after they became serious, she was brutally attacked and badly hurt. Her medical costs required her to be indentured to repay them. She was a singer, and after she was beaten and raped, her tongue was cut out, and thus her livelihood was destroyed. Nonetheless, Sowitwee and Nariya were married and being good citizens, trusting in justice and the goodness of others, they undertook to repay her medical debt as well his own. Last year, I paid off the balance of Nariya's indenture contract. The very next day, the contract binding Sowitwee and his father was amended, and while I haven't had a chance to look at the documents we just received from the court, I'm betting those documents either weren't signed or the signatures were forged. What do you think my odds are?"

"I wouldn't even hazard a guess, Lord Kandikan," he answered thoughtfully.

"The sergeant here is an honorable man and a dutiful son. Just over two months ago, he was in combat and awarded a medal for bravery, one that qualified him for financial emancipation under the Heroes Act. A Ground Service JAG officer pointed out to me that Sowitwee and his wife could have been free from his father's debt. Because he is an honorable son, he's continued paying on his father's debt.

"Previously, his payments went directly to Chantamoco Investments and Holdings. Now, they go to Jade Petticoat Services, a company thousands of rads away in far off Maychee, located in Inharana State. They process the funds and send the money every month to Chantamoco. Because of this new required step in the payment process, the payments always arrive late to Chantamoco's offices, and based on the new contract, this then incurs hundreds of credits in fees and penalties.

"They made a mistake, though. Besides fraudulently amending the contract, the Imperial High Court ruled in Jingsaway versus Je State states that payments received by one company count as received by the other company if both are owned by the same parent company. Through some digging, I found that Jade Petticoat Services and Chantamoco Investments and Holdings are both owned by Ventac Securities. Thousands of credits were illegally added each month to the contract binding father and son. Ventac Securitie is owned by one Pren Bayloks'mec, former Ground Service Commander and the so-called hero of Ventac Two. Pren's two sons, Garan and Ikan also hold shares in Ventac Securities. I assume you know who Pren Bayloks'mec is?"

Ramino nodded. He didn't look happy about it, either.

I watched people hurrying from the state buildings, going home from work. Nearby, restaurants were filling with diners eager for their evening meal. Which reminded me that I needed to be done and back for Cholan. I resumed speaking.

"Now we add the blatantly illegal issue of slaves doing Guild and Merchant work in the heart of the state capital. How many people would go into offices and inspect staff, looking for slave tattoos before conducting business? If I took all this to the Imperial Court here in Copán, how far do you think I would get?"

"Not very far, my lord. They would tie you up in court for years."

"Are you married?"

"Yes, my lord, I am. Happily so."

"My brother says you are a good man. The Empire needs good men. Good women, too. It might be safer for you to take a small vacation. Nothing too long, mind you. Just long enough for the dust to settle around here. A few days or a week perhaps." I took out the remaining two hundred credits, moved in close and put the money into his breast pocket.

"How long should I wait before reporting the existence of slaves doing Guild work?"

"After the weekend should be sufficient. We will be back at High Guard War Base, and everything concerning the slaves themselves should be settled. Because these illegal actions involved a man in active military service, the War Ministry is now involved. They take a dim view of any business cheating their warriors. After you make your obligatory report, do not involve yourself further unless requested by officers of either Air Security or Ground Security. Unless you know otherwise, Imperial Security might be part of the cover-up. In that case, cooperate, but don't volunteer anything."

The man exhaled slowly. "Yes, my lord. I understand."

I held out my hand to him, and he shook it.

"Thank you, Master Ramino. If you need a referral, send me an email and I'll gladly send you one. This situation isn't my fault nor is it yours, but we've both stepped into it. We will do what good men should always do. Act with honor and fight for our loved ones like the possessed. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Lord Kandikan." He hurried to his vehicle and drove away.

We returned to our own vehicle and returned to Chantamoco. I instructed Corporal Karmek that we had a prisoner and five civilians in custody and that we needed transport to the war base for processing. At his look, I said, "Bet you thought this was going to be an easy assignment, didn't you."

Sowitwee snorted, and I was sure I heard some quiet snickers from the two women troopers.

Back inside, I saw the manager was bound and laying inert on the carpet. Yelts stood by the door, and Vaniksl sat on the corner of a desk, her helmet off and beside her. She was tapping onto her tablet. The slaves were gathered in chairs in a semi-circle in front of her.

Seeing me, she stood up. "Commander, you need to hear this. Go on, Kitsi. You first."

Her face had a mixture of hope and fear. "I am Kitsi of House Oporandsa, from South Freeport, Southern Je State. My father was a trader in foreign goods. He opposed a criminal trying to extort money from him. Our home was broken into just over two years ago. I was taken and enslaved. I was sold twice before I ended up here."

I turned to Vaniksl. She nodded. "The others have similar stories. I can't confirm anything until we can get back to the war base, but if it's true...?"